We are young.

Today, we are young.
We are young, but we know where the world is heading. We are young, but we are not ignorant. We know what is happening, we can predict what will happen.

Youth is not our hindrance - it is yours.

We know things are wrong, we know people are in pain, we know friends and strangers suffer, every day. We know that people wake up, wondering if they will live to see another day, we know that some do not sleep at all, haunted by demons of the past, the present, and the unforseeable future. 

We see the world as you may not - in fragments and images, painted with words that are both bright and dull, coloured by actions and emotions - luminescent, shadowy. We see it in flashes of dark and light, in bursts of smiles and tears, in rapid streaks of laughter and pain. We see it with different moods and temperaments. We see it as we are, we see it as a reflection of ourselves, of what is in our heart of hearts.

We know enough to acknowledge that we are capable of both great and terrible deeds, but we choose to do what is right. We choose to stand up and scream when we know something is wrong, we choose to raise our voices in unison when we hear of barbaric acts. We choose to protest, we choose to take action. We choose to make a difference.

We will not sit by and wait, we will not be silent. We cannot be suppressed, and we cannot be bought. We will question everything you present to us, we will not be pacified by assurances, fake promises, hollow words. We will fight.

We will fight, because we know it is what we must do. We live in safety today, but we fight for a safe tomorrow - for everyone we know, for the people we will come to know, for the people we admire, for the people we love. 

We fight for a world where beliefs will remain untouched, but will remain as what they essentially are - beliefs. Beliefs that cannot be forced onto unwilling parties, cannot be twisted to cause pain to others.
We fight for equality, so that men, women, and children do not have to think, 'Today, I will be what society wants me to be, what it expects of me', because we want them to think, instead, 'Today, I will be who I want to be, and I will not be subject to criticism for it'.
We will fight for a world where there is tolerance and freedom, a world which understands and accepts this fact of life: that people cannot be neatly fitted into boxes, that we cannot stick the same label on everyone and call it a truth. We fight for a world which accepts that people deal with situations differently, that not everyone can climb the same mountain at the same pace, not everyone can overcome the same flood of emotion and get back on track at the same time. 

We want a world where people will acknowledge other people as what they are, will acknowledge their rights irrespective of gender, sexuality, or their belief system. We want to give others the benefit of doubt, to offer them the same excuses we sometimes allow ourselves so easily. 

We cannot and will not raise arms, but we will raise our voices, and we will be heard.
We are the future, as we are so often told. Do not tell us that we are uneducated, that we have not seen enough of the world, that we are foolish to think that we can change it. Do not tell us we are ignorant.

We are young, and that is one of our greatest strengths. Because we have learned. We have faced enough naysayers, and we have not been dissuaded. We have faced mocking glances and condescending tones, and we have been able to brush it off and move on.

Yesterday, we may not have listened as hard. 
Today, we are young. We are dazzling, changeable, determined, bold, alert, and eager. We are learning, and we will learn. 
Tomorrow - who knows?
We may just change the world.

'Coz though the truth may vary this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore.

Do you remember the beach, all laid out in front of us, like our own adventure? Our feet digging into the sand, our toes clenching and wriggling in the sand. Under the hot sun, we sat down, feet sliding into the water, half in one world, half in the next. We luxuriated in the coolness of the water, the sand sticky against our skin, and we spoke in whispers of when we could come back, and all the afternoons we would spend walking along the shore, watching the waves. As we were now.

When the tide came in, we pulled ourselves up and moved further back, and when it tugged us into the waves, we let go, and we laughed as we floated. We tasted the salt, inhaled the sharp scent of the sea. The waves pulled us further in, and we let them. We held each other as we went under. We stopped breathing the air, but it was like we had started breathing something else entirely. When we pushed up and emerged, spluttering, inexperienced as we were, too scared to go too far into the water, we felt disconnected once more.

We shared sandwiches and oranges, washing our fingers carefully and wiping them on paper napkins, but when we were done, it wasn't long before they were crusty with sand once again. I didn't mind. We walked down the shore that afternoon, and we waited till sunset, watching as the sun slipped lower and lower in the darkening skies. It bathed the sea with a brilliant beam of light one last time, before it disappeared, plunging us in darkness.

We packed our things and left the deserted beach, carrying shells in bags, trying to cling to the sand with our toes as we walked back to our hotel. Perhaps we hoped to carry away a part of something that was not, and had never been, ours. To carry away a piece of another world to our hotel room - and beyond, a world that could not be held in  a window view from a comfortable room, a world that we could not be a part of unless we were in it. 
We washed the sand away, under the shower, washed away the stickiness and the sweat. Reluctantly, we packed our bags. We went down to our dinner buffet, and we talked of inconsequential things, like how much we wanted winter to come early, and how late the train would be the next morning. 

Late that night, when sleep failed to come, I tiptoed out of bed and unzipped the suitcase, quietly removing the plastic bag where we had stored our shells. I stole a torch from your bedside and slipped out of the room, down the stairs, into the hotel lounge, where the doors were locked, but the window was just shut, wide enough to climb through when I slowly pushed it open. The shells fell as I did, to the ground - a musical sound. I ran down to the beach.

Standing at the shore, I waited for the water to come creeping in, over my feet. Taking handfuls of shells, I threw them back to the waves - an illogical act, a silly thing to do. But I didn't stop. Four, five, six, seven handfuls fell softly into the cushion of the waves. Some floated. Some, the sea swallowed, the waves spilling over. Some washed up again, swiftly, to fall at my feet. I threw them all till the bag was empty - a gift I wanted to give back, a parting gesture.

I sat there till the sun had risen, the bag light in my fingers, the scent of the sea on my skin, the sand in my clothes. I pulled my shoes off, dangling them in one hand, the empty packet in the other, as I walked along the shore. When I walked back to the hotel, I turned back, and watched, as my footprints in the sand were washed away by the sea, the silvery-foam lost in a blanket of blue. As the morning light lit up this world, I walked back to our rooms.

You asked me later, on the train, what had happened to the shells. When you were looking for a bag of chips and had opened the wrong suitcase, you raised an eyebrow and said, 'Didn't we packed the shells here? Did we lose them already?'
I smiled apologetically. 'Maybe we did. I think I accidentally took them out when I was packing the washed clothes. Maybe I forgot to put them in?'
You shrugged. 'It's okay. They were just shells. The hotel staff will probably must be so sick of those by now. They'll probably throw them away.'
I looked out of the window, at the blurred green flashed past, through the yellow-tinted glass. I didn't understand, so I couldn't explain. I didn't want to take away something, because I didn't want to remember this. I couldn't hold this feeling, of being a part of this, without being wholly a part of it. I didn't want to relive this, even in memory, I didn't want that bittersweetness. 
We would go back now, and we would be engulfed in a world where we belonged, where we were told we belonged. This was just a vacation that we took, there would be pictures, and people would ask how it had gone. But eventually we would all forget, and when we remember, it would be far away from us, a memory, floating, waiting to be recaptured.

One couldn't really know a place, until one was a part of it. I missed it because I had been. When the train chugged into the station -  the last stop, we emerged into the humidity and the mix of a thousand sounds. The atmosphere of the city hit us like a flood, and we let it carry us, threading our way through the crowds. 

I thought one last time of our footprints in the sand, and mine, alone, bathed in the sunlight. I saw them again, deep, clear marks, swallowed by the sea - a promise, a whisper of a secret. The sea would not tell, that I had fallen in love with it, with the brine and the grains of sand, and the undulating stretch of waves. I knew, then, that I would never go back.

We walked into the city where I thought we had belonged.
We never went back. We never looked back.

Lyrics in title from 'Little Talks' by 'Of Monsters and Men'.

Can't really apologise enough for crappy writing. But I've got a million and one blog posts that I started and never finished. I decided I should just write something, whether it's rubbish or not. It is, but that's okay for me. I won't be reading it again.

Also, I would beg someone to tell me how to change the damn font in the comments, I can't stand Arial.

Howling ghosts they reappear, in mountains that are stacked with fear.

I have exams again. I'll be done by March 20th.

Sorry I missed out on commenting and stuff. 

I have had time to blog, I've just had precious little to say.

Don't say 'good luck', because I'm trying to forget.

Tell me how you've been. I'd like to hear that. =D

Goodbye for now.

Lyrics in title from 'King and Lionheart' by 'Of Monsters and Men'.

I have exams.

Not that anyone really cares, it just bothers me that I won't be able to comment on your blogs. So have a good two weeks, and I shall see you soon. Take care all.

In the meantime, have an LOLcat.

Or two.

Or three.

Yeah, I'mma go now. Have a good Jan all. 

Much love.

But there are dreams that cannot be, and there are storms we cannot weather

If someone can tell me how we switch font styles for comments (because mine is disgusting, no offence to people who like Arial - I *think* it's Arial) I'd be very happy. 

My friend Weapon tells me that 'Emily' is indeed not a cover, but I'm too lazy to go back and change that text right now. This is actually an opportunity for me to do a shoutout to her awesome site/blog/thing, which is much more interesting than mine will ever be. She's also written a book which is available on Amazon, it's called 'Unlikely Friends in a Forbidden World'. No, I haven't been asked to advertise it, but I figured I should mention it because I find the premise *very* interesting.

Happy Christmas all.
My Christmases always suck, we don't do it anyway. Moving on.

I finally finished The Casual Vacancy. (DEAR GOD CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE)
Yeah, it got better. I sort of like(d) it.
I'm not entirely sure what I feel about it, I'm so conflicted.

Also, I just noticed. I 'liked' 'Deerskin' on FB ages ago. Now, I was under the impression (because I double check nothing at all) that I'd 'liked' this but what I'd really 'liked' for over a whole damn year was  this. I mean, what the hell. (It's a very good book, by the way, just sayin'.)
I'm just sitting here wondering what my friends think of me right now. (Nah, no one notices that crap, but seriously, I in no way endorse the deerskin trade.)

Anyway, it occurs to me that you guys haven't seen pictures of my monsters family, so here you are.

Blogger apparently doesn't do borders any more. I don't even. 

That's Persephone/Pookie.

Yeah, no one calls her Persephone.

I HAVE LOGIC, OKAY. I figured since she was going to have a stupid name to start out with (Imagine being called Pookie) we might as well go all the way and give her another name so thoroughly unsuited to a cat that it's at a different extreme altogether.

This is Zara, the Labrador retriever. She loves food, squeaky toys, and chasing the cats.

This is Zinka. She hates me, but less so  than she hates everyone else because I don't cuddle her or anything. Moving on.

Our older dog, Elsa, passed away in October. She was seven, she was young. She was quite honestly the best dog I ever had. I grew up with her, and while I love having the cats around (first and last time I will say such a thing), having a cat and having a dog...by no means the same thing. This is possibly the first and last time I will post a picture of her. She was the sweetest dog. This picture is probably one of her last few days with us.

I really, really miss her. There's this odd thing about animals dying, people think it's okay. It's like, whoa, just a pet, right? Whether this sounds stupid or not is not really something I care about, but pets care. Living creatures care. Investing in a relationship is investing in a relationship with a living thing that has feelings, that thinks, moves, and breathes. They might think, move, and breathe in different ways, they may not return your feelings the same way a human might, but that doesn't mean that the relationship or the bond that you have doesn't mean anything.
Elsa was always there when I got back home. When I sat down on the bed to cry about a really bad day, she'd put her front paws up and then put her paw over my hand. I don't know where she learned to do that, or how she knew it would help, but it always did. And she didn't mind being hugged or leaned into, she bore up patiently with all the tears and the hysterics.
I've lost family before. 

You cannot compare losing a friend to losing a pet, losing a pet to losing a family member. They're all different kinds of grief, because you cannot fit a personality into a mould. You cannot fit the loss of any person into a shape that will define it, because grief cannot be contained. You lose someone now, next month you'll be shopping for a pair of shoes and you'll think, what a lovely thing to buy for them! And then you'll remember. Next year, when you're making some coffee alone on Ashtami night, you'll think of how happy you were to be spending it with them last year. And on and on, there'll be small things that will make you stop, make you think , make you weep. 

I cried when Elsa died. I was in class when I found out. Half of me knew already, the other half embraced the shock because it was so much easier to feel something else. A teacher walked me down, stood with me outside campus while we waited for my dad to come pick me up, even though it was broad daylight. I'm pretty sure most of the staff thought I was a wimp or something. I didn't really care. Occasionally, they would tell me to stop, they'd look embarrassed. I didn't really care.
I would've been content to cry my eyes out in the bathroom all alone frankly, but they made sure to drag me out. I didn't ask to be left alone, because I never ask. Anyway, that's all over now.
MY RANT IS OVER, WE CAN GO BACK TO CUSTOMARY CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY CHEER.

                                          -------------------------------------------------------------------

I have spent a great deal of my time reading this and it's really been making me laugh. Try it. Unless you like 50 Shades of Grey, in which case, don't try it.

What else is there.

I hope you all have a lovely Christmas/Holiday/other celebration. : )
I hope you're all having a good 25th of December really. And most importantly, I hope you're all *feeling* good. 

Lyrics in title from 'I Dreamed A Dreamed - Les Mis'. Yes, I'm obsessed.

All we love, and all we know, must reach an end.

I leave in my wake these shattered dreams. I don't have time to repair them, to glue them back. I don't have the resources to nurse a broken fantasy.

I don't have the time, I don't have a guardian angel. I am alone.

Today, I'm alone. There's no looking ahead, because I see nothing. But I do it anyway. I see a void, I see a darkness that cannot be expelled. I see no future. I see only memories that I cannot erase, fears I cannot dispel. I see tides of hate and anger, distrust.

I feel that.

Today, I feel nothing else.

Lyrics in title from 'Wonder' by Laura Michelle Kelly (Lord of the Rings Musical.)

Shut up listen to me, dance with me Emily.

If anyone's curious as to why I stick random song lyrics in the title, it's because I'm too lazy to come up with an actual title. Beyond impressive is my skill to take shortcuts.

It's been a while since I watched these videos, but they're really cool and if anyone wants to they should give them a try. It's a modern take on Pride and Prejudice.  At some point my interest sort of...tapered off? But I rewatched some of them and it's a fun way to kill a lot of time. Something we all do and should keep doing really.

I switched the layout of the blog slightly - I think I should be congratulated because the day I'm confident about the way the blogosphere's design option works is a day that is well and truly blessed. Anyway, the darn thing felt out of proportion, but I changed very little, because I don't like change.

OH LOOK WE HAVE OUR TOPIC OF CONVERSATION FOR THE REST OF THIS POST.
(I have all the subtlety of a giant grizzly taking a trip to the Delhi Haat.)
I do very badly with change. There are certain things I look forward to as if my life may depend on them, but the truth is, I have no idea how I will react when those things actually replace everything I know. Complaining about certain things creates a constant cycle for me.

Oh, never mind, forget that.
I actually wanted to talk about Les Misérables, the movie that's supposed to release here in late Jan.
I didn't really care about Les Mis before I saw the trailer for the movie. I mean, I'd heard of it and dismissed it in the same vague way that I dismiss a glass of milk in the fridge when it's set there for a purpose, but then everyone (online, the people I know offline don't really give a damn) was talking about it. So I watched the trailer and was suddenly really excited about it.
After that my brain chucked itself into some kind of quirky mindset and couldn't think about anything else. I watched the 25th Anniversary Musical (I'm aware others are better, but there was one video for the whole thing and frankly I'm just too lazy to load 12 parts or god knows how many of the 10th Anniversary) and really liked it, I downloaded all my favourite songs, and now I can't wait for the movie to come out so I can go watch it and act like a so-called true fan and hum all the songs.
I don't think this excitement is as much a I-love-Les-Mis-so-much-oh-my-god thing (although it is pretty amazing), but more of a gladness to be excited about something. (Gladness is a bad word to use. Sue me.) So if anyone's watching it - I don't quite know WHEN I'll be able to, finals, but I WILL see it - do let me know. I've probably done more advertising for this movie than the publicist has. (In this city. -cough-)

Another movie I'm mildly happy about is The Perks of Being a Wallflower. This is based on a book by Stephen Chobsky Chbosky, sorry. Ahem.
Anyway, I liked the book. It wasn't mind-blowingly amazing but it made me think and it made me laugh and it made me feel, which is the sort of thing I look for in a book. At least, from what I remember. I hope I'm not remembering incorrectly. :/

I'm currently reading The Casual Vacancy by JK Rowling. I know there's been a lot of speculation regarding this, and it has received some negative reviews. But I'm sticking with it. Currently I find it to be okay in terms of speed (not...something that pulls you in first line going, but...) and I find the characters to be...not all that likeable, but I'm hoping that will change.
I'm also reading ArchEnemy, which is #3 in the Looking Glass Wars trilogy, which is a nice series. 

I think I had some other stuff to say, but I've got to go annoy the kitten. I hope everyone's having a good week, and yay, weekend!

Lyrics in title from 'Emily' by Mika (think it's a cover, can't be bothered to look up, that's the version I heard/like).