Yes, you are my friend :D

Here are the lyrics, which are the reason why I love this song so much.

We all have a weakness
But some of ours are easy to identify.
Look me in the eye
And ask for forgiveness;
We'll make a pact to never speak that word again
Yes, you are my friend.
We all have something that digs at us,
At least we dig each other
So when weakness turns my ego up
I know you'll count on the me from yesterday

If I turn into another
Dig me up from under what is covering
The better part of me
Sing this song
Remind me that we'll always have each other
When everything else is gone.

We all have a sickness
That cleverly attaches and multiplies
No matter how we try.
We all have someone that digs at us,
At least we dig each other
So when sickness turns my ego up
I know you'll act as a clever medicine.

If I turn into another
Dig me up from under what is covering
The better part of me.
Sing this song!
Remind me that we'll always have each other
When everything else is gone.
Oh each other....
When everything
Else is gone. 

Thank you, S <3

Window Pain

There's a window.
Yes, a window.
Do you see it?
Don't you see it?

I know you.
Yes, I do.
Who are you?
Who am I?

There's a streak
Of purple
Or is it blue?
Is it the rainbow?
No, it's a bruise.

There's the rain.
Pattering on the window.
Do you see the drops?
Is it blood or tears?
Yours or mine?

They're colourless.
No, you are blind.
Or am I?

There's your heartbeat.
There's your voice.
It's my music.
It's the sirens?
Or is it the silence?

There's the light
The lovely sunshine
It's warm and bright.
Where's the sun?
There is no sun?
It's fire.

The fire of love.
The fire of trust.
The fire of hurt?
The fire or dust?

Fall

Often, when I've felt I'm falling, I've thought of it as falling into a black hole rather than some dark pit. This is probably because of my love for all things cosmos but I believe it holds a little more importance in the literary department.

Black holes, as I imagine them, are bottomless dark pits. But unlike other dark pits, the kind you simply fall into and keep falling after biting into the forbidden apple, black holes are quite interactive. When falling into a black hole, you experience immense pressure - both psychological and physical. That originating in your psyche comes partly from the guilt and confusion of biting into the apple and partly from the fall into the obviously hostile surroundings. The physical pressure is what we can regard as interesting. It originates due the psychological pressure, that constantly tries to suffocate you (and this is not because black holes are devoid of air); but what actually makes this pressure unbearably painful is the ability of the black hole to interact with your body. Black holes threaten to crush you into a clump no more smooth than gravel and simultaneously pluck apart the splinters of your existence, not to mention quite mercilessly - they can't really feel much, you see.

The apple was forbidden, wasn't it? But you bit into it anyway, didn't you? Why?

You don't know?

That's fine. You will know, once you begin to fall.

The Odds of the End

Death is painful - something we all know.

For some it's serene - an effortless transition from one content life to another; for others it's a matter of relief and for another lot, it's the most excruciating experience of their life and ironically death.

However, for those who stand by and watch, it's always painful. Always.
It doesn't matter how, when or why it happened, but only that it did. It doesn't matter if you were the cold-blooded murderer or the helpless onlooker whose arms became the final abode of the departing soul. It doesn't matter if the blood that stains your hands was a product of the gash you gave someone or it's there because you held the warm, living body that became cold and dead in a matter of moments. Either way, pain is a constant companion- irrespective of who feels it.

It brings us pain to know that we can't do anything to hold onto those breaths that are softly slipping away. Anguish grips us as we realize in essence how the fire of life is about to be extinguished and leave behind the cold, dry embers of a lost life, a lost soul, a lost world. And we stand and watch, crushed by that helplessness, waiting for the curtains to fall and the lights to explode into the creeping darkness that threatens to engulf us and all that's dear to us.We wait for the burns to heal with the light that can burn this pain. And we wait.

But more often than not, light chooses to travel into the distant depths of the universe, up, above and away from where we are. From the stars, to some other stars and infinity - where every soul travels - at some point in its life, or death. Yes, that's where we believe they are: somewhere within infinity, with that light that left us to reach them, help them, guide them, hold them. It is almost relieving to bear that pain, that suffocating embrace of the dark if we believe that the light leaves us and somehow helps the ones we love.

Up, above and away are all so distant and yet so close. They are so hard to touch but they touch our lives so easily. They define transcendence from our troubles, offer an escape, only a very impractical and untouchable one. But they offer something, even if it is another life - that after death.

My exams finished today and I'd thought I'd write a blog post overflowing with glee of some sort or at least something that reflected freedom. The moon was full tonight and oh so beautiful when I went out for a walk and I decided to write something related to that but then I had an encounter with death. Most of us might consider this encounter a very trivial one and it probably is but I just can't feel that way.

Walking back home, I saw a dead eagle on the road-side. My eyes bulged out for a moment when I realized what it was and I got terribly upset. I actually felt my heart getting heavy! I'm not exactly an animal rights activist (although I do believe that animals should be treated nicely because WE are humans), but grief did grip me for long enough to produce this morose piece.

It was not the eagle or it's death that hurt so much, perhaps. It was the closeness of death, right beneath my eyes, the fine line between the two phases that is so easily lost to sight. Seeing the eagle's neck lolled to its left; its body that was previously vibrant with life, turned into a static wooden frame; the grey shutters on the eyes and the beak covered in dust made me want to kneel down and start weeping. It's been so long since I've felt that way and back then it used to be where humans were concerned. I've seen dead animals before but never have I felt quite so broken by the sight.

I guess it's just because I haven't paid attention to any deaths in the past two months. Also, it was the realization that this living body that soared to great heights of blue oblivion would have bolted to the ground and lost its life in a snap. The simplicity of transition between these two extremes of what lies up above and away against that which takes one beneath the ground is just so paradoxical and ironic. This battle between warm and cold, black and white, heights and depths is what maintains the continuity of life - by ending some.

It is an act of greatly low stature to end a life. It is a matter of great pain, patience and strength to watch an end. I can't imagine how great it would be to have the chance to save a life.