ghaza

توی ذهنم زمزمه می شد

عمری که نه در عشق تو بگذاشته ام

امروز به خون دل قضا خواهم کرد

فال گرفتم از پسری

خوشا دلی که مدام از پی نظر نرود

به هر درش که بخوانند بی خبر نرود

گفتم: دلت مثل رخت چرکمرده ای می شه که هر چی میشوریش تمیز نمیشه

time, clock, BODY

Regular events of the nature helped the human to find a unit for passing on a line, called TIME. These units helped the human to invent clocks: to live in a world with the same feeling of living, passing, or being! Like every aspect of the society forgetting the difference of personal characteristics of its members: humans! forgetting that each human carries his/her own physiologhical clock.
When I’m thinking I almost forget the time and its passing rate…when I finish, I should check the time with a clock…I always forget the date, I check it with a calendar…I try to forget some memories...I try to control the history and program and function of my mind…these are all my mental activities to be an active part of the society. Forgetting that my body has its own time, date AND memories.

Stomach : 6 hours: hunger
Eye: 1 day : sleep
Nail and hair : 1 week : hygiene
(Blood: 1 month : femininity)

And these time, date and memories could just change with longish stable conditions.body hasn’t any interest in society and it’s completely self-centered.
And since I don’t think about my body, it can work regularly in its natural way!!! And suddenly it bells and I find out without any unconsciousness why it bells. It doesn’t let my mind play its master role. Both of them are selfish and of course they fight in me (I’m not sure about it in other people).
To live in harmony with my body is my great wish for saving peace, power, and pride of my human nature…

خزان

تباه شد تباه

خزان شوم به آن زیبایی

به روی عالم ما بارید

هزارویک

هزارویک شب رسوایی

چهار گوشه عالم را

زنی مچاله کرد

پنجره را باز کرد

دور انداخت

اگرچه

هزار قالی زربفت بافت آفتاب نگاهش به باغ بیگانه

ولی ترنج سینه ما را چه نیمه کاره رها کرد زیر پای خلایق

چه نیمه کاره رها کرد

...

درخت توت

همان چتر کهکشانی امن و امان میدانها

شکسته است

می از صراحی حبسش برون نمی تابد

و بغض دلکش آوازه خوان

بریده بریده به گوش می رسد از صفحه قدیم جوانی

و یک سه تار شکسته

کنار سطل زباله

نشسته است

تباه شد تباه

خزان شوم به آن زیبایی

به روی عالم ما بارید

هزارویک

هزارویک شب رسوایی

too

-tea was undrinkable!
-why?
-“why? “? that means you don’t have a taste too!

تهوع

تلخ نمیخوام باشم اما هستم یه چیزی بدتر تهوع رهام نمی کنه تک تک آدمها و خودم رو تهوع برانگیز می بینم هر ضعفی حالم رو به هم می زنه و به خودم فکر می کنم که یا گاهی همونطور ضعیف بودم یا هستم یا می تونم باشم

از راحت طلبی آدمها بیزارم از تلاششون برای هیچ و پوچ بیزارم
از افسردگی عصبانی می شم شادی رو غیرقابل تحمل می بینم
از جدیت متنفرم از بیخیالی چندشم میشه
از شعر بدم میاد از کلام عق می زنم
از سکوت فرار می کنم موسیقی ها احمقانه بنظر میان
از نیاز آدمها حوصله م سر می ره توی نیازهای خودم خفه می شم
از بغضم خفه می شم از فریادهای خفه ی گلوم، صدام خسته و خراشیده می شه لبهام از هم باز نمی شن گوشهام از شنیدن مدام به ستوه میان سکوت اما مثل مرگشونه مرگ اونها مثل اینه که بگن بسه بمیر اما از اینهمه پوچ اونقدر حرصی ام که نمیخوام بمیرم بیشتر دوست دارم همه زنده های مریض رو پاره پاره کنم و وقتی همه مرگ شدند بسوزونمشون تا خاکسترشون روببینم بعد که مطمئن شدم لاشه شون رو هم نمی بینم شاید اونقدر آروم بشم که بخوام بمیرم

شاید اگه واقعا چند بار حالم به هم بخوره بهتر بشم

reality

The mouse moves over the text and when stops the speakers sound "reality"....

I remember one of my dear friends, who used to write to the hero of her dreams that how she is suffering in his absence…she was the symbol of a dreamer in my thoughts…she married…easily…and that was the end of that dreams…or may be the dreams were dead before….
I think dreams just helped her to wait till the reality change in to a tolerable thing!….I don’t know if that marriage was the choice between a dream and a reality or between different realities, or it was a destiny or it was the conquer of her dreams by the reality of someone else….I don’t know….

I just know I can’t dream anymore…I hate this ….ing reality, but I can’t dream at all…

why in English?

It’s easy to write your thoughts in your native language. We get used to writing in special formats with special words and even with the same concepts; without noticing that we are repeating.
Our mind has a tendency to repeat its products…to improve them…to dive in their oceans…Specially when the concepts are complicated and remain unsolved in its attempts for understanding...just like a good student that one day face a very difficult exam…failing in an exam is less important than facing your inability in solving a problem…the student would struggle to find the solution…this mind would not forget the problem…
To avoid wrong struggles one should return back and trace the ways frequently…thinking in a foreign language, makes it easier to trace your mind, since it decreases the speed of growth of thoughts!!!! ( Specially when you are a beginner in using that language)….
So:
You may improve or stop thinking about a subject…
Besides it helps you to talk briefly and effectively…
And it’s a kind of fresh activity for mind…

A very simple common poem in a foreign language, excites the mind to think and find it, so mind can feel it better, I wanted to make the readers think and feel me better!
Quality is better than quantity….

Recently I’ve decided to have my farsi thoughts written too! Because of two reasons:
in the sudden creation of feelings, they are not English…I want them to be written as soon as they get born…without the delay of a translation or a process of tracing!!!!
And it’s difficult for some friends to understand me in a foreign language…perhaps because of my weak English writing skills…so sometimes I would write both in English and farsi.
I hope it doesn’t make me forget writing!

alive

It’s necessary to run from crowds of pain, but impossible to just go to nothing

Emptiness is strongly opposite of life….like death…and it is unreachable in a real life….life would never decide to walk in the direction of emptiness…since it needs to move, it should make an alive destination…sometimes it’s just wandering to be continued…and may be to find a destination...but it’s so frustrating and time consuming and it may increase the distance if there could be any …
It’s dreaming of course, with a clear or a vague image…and it’s irresistible in going forward in the life…although not enough for reaching or growing…it must change in to a clear image

Some aspects of the soul should be characterized right in the childhood…may be “late” or “wrong” here means “never”.
It should be The first step of the child to learn how to be an actor….life should be played…if no, you have accepted to be a plaything…and that’s a big difference for whole life…after learning to be an actor it should be learnt “how to play”, instead of learning “how to bear the play and go on”…

for a birthday

Every birthday in our family we used to listen to the story of that birth…all of them were fascinating for me, except the one that I knew about it myself…the birth of the last child of the family…the only child born after me…but Maman was a great narrator…I loved to hear her voice, and be amazed of the way she used to express the details of her deep feelings…

Today it was birthday of the last child of the family…the only child born after me…now she is 20…and she has lied there…after 56…I had to be there near her, to tell her details of my deep feelings in the birthday of her child…although she can see and she knows herself….I try to be a narrator…
I just forgot the candles…

lyrics

some lyrics simply calrify definition of words in common life:

(I need a) friend (I want her now)
someone who knows what I mean when I say, that I need
(tender hands to hold me)

waterfalls

Deep shiny love of your eyes would never come to glance in the dark light of lamps and flashes
Deep strong movement of your memories would just get stronger in the blowing of events and time
Deep silent need of your voice would never get satisfied with the rhythm of all dreams and musics
Deep sadness of your life has fallen to the rivers of my eyes
Rivers has become waterfalls … waterfalls are falling to the rivers of my heart

I’m certain that I’ve lost you…I’ve lost you as a part of my body, my soul…I’ve lost the roots of my existence, in a desert, unblossomed… I’ve never drunk you as much as I needed, and I can’t anymore
Nothing could fill the emptiness you have left in my soul … Attaching to my existence, sharing with other existences, nothing could fill the empty existence of your absence

Although … you are

hungry

Never shed your tears on a hungry body, thirsty it should be

Never forget to hide your heart when it's not comfortable to cry

Never let your body move senseless

Never decide for others needs, let them ask you to

Never be generous to selfish poor

Never forget Love in loneliness

Never forget pride

...

how beautiful it was if I could sleep as deep as you,

to have or not ?

to have someone and feel lonely or to feel loneliness when you have nobody? which one is more tolerable?


Upon her face there was a tint of grief,
The settled shadow of an inward strife,
And an unquiet drooping of the eye,
As if its lid were charged with unshed tears.

symmetry

it has became a riddle:
every time I watch the clock, there is a symmetry in digits:
11:11
22:22
00:00
22:55
01:01
10:10
and..........................
it's time to do what?

stammering would end in getting dumb

rhythm

http://www.b4death.com/fla/lastbreath.swf

blossoms

This isn't goodbye,
even as I watch you leave, this isn't goodbye


It’s not the sadness of loneliness, and not the consternation of loosing,
Not the pain of a desire, not the envy of an absence …
It’s the weight of responsibility,
And the shame of a familiar looking eye,
And the pride of keeping a secret
That changes my life after her death...

پرندگان به تماشای بادها رفتند

شکوفه ها

به تماشای آب های سپید

آب های سپید

سپید

شکوفه ها

زمین عریان مانده ست و باغ های گمان

و یاد مهر تو

مهر تو

ای مهربان تر از خورشید

وهم بالغ

در ناگهان ِ لحظه ی بعدی شکفته ای
بر قاعده چون وهم ِ بالغی

انبوه کرده خالی ِ هستی م در سکوت
ترسیم ِ تازه ی ابعادِ ساحلی

بر شیب ِ عروقم کرشمه وار
بی گفتگو، تجسم ِ یک واژ ِ صیقلی

می خوانمت آسانتر از نگاه
همچون طبیعت ِ بیدار ِ خلقتی

در ناگهان ِ لحظه ی بعدی که تو
از خواب کهنه به چشمم خزیده ای

interpreter

Body is a materialized simulation of the soul…
When the heart is suffering from a disease, serious damage to the brain is possible which could be more dangerous than the heart disease itself…

I don’t know a woman more sensitive and devoted to her family than my mother…every one can talk about the mothers as symbols of love and devotion…but no one has ever stopped wondering about them…my mother has a body that interprets her soul…and I have read it recently…

independent existance

You can be the leader of your thoughts till the moment that they are not expressed…
Whenever they got expressed to someone, you loose your power over them, while they got the power over you…you can no longer deny them…they’ve got a doubtless powerful separated existence…they’ve got an existence...you can no longer deny them…
You may act against your thoughts…they might change with your actions….but you can’t change an independent existence easily…
You are doomed to their will, while once your will could shape them…You may be happy with sad thoughts in your mind, but you can never feel happiness after telling bitter words escaped from your jail and gaoled you…

change

To be both sensitive and strong is impossible…
(Or may be the definition of strength is different from what people think)

But I would never lose my senses to be strong…

Could it be possible to change the way senses feel?
As you can change your mind, or thoughts…. But you can never change your logic…
Could the senses feel free, in the situations that they normally feel tortured?
I think they couldn’t without a change in the mind, although sometimes they don’t agree with the mind…

Somehow I must make my feelings free…

سخت سرسبز

آبستن خویشم سخت

موزونتر از اندامت

آبستن آن شعرم

تا قابله ی عشقت

-

یا کوه پر از برفم

یا دره ی بی سیلاب

بی بوسه ی خورشیدت

عریان کندم سیراب

-

باران زده دشتم دور

از دست تمنایت

کو دانه ی دردانه ت

فریاد کنم سرسبز

rules

we humans are really crazy...even with our dimensions....
i wonder why we always try to be rational or to seem so....
and why we try to make rational rules instead of finding the rules of madness....

what's that? madness or our true nature?....what are we? what do we search for?

parents

Sadness keeps everything for himself
Happiness shares everything with the others

Sadness is the son of loosing and death…this son hates his parents and being similar to them...but they always accompany sadness. So sadness keeps everything to avoid loosing or death!

But happiness is the daughter of satisfaction and life…she has inherited her parents beauty and feels them in her heart…then she obeys their orders to get closer to them…

Not only soul, but even body is the kingdom of feelings…when I’m happy, I loose weight…and vice versa…

sweeteternalpoison

Coincidence thoughts are not only common among scientists.

He (Homayun Shajariyan) is singing “Oh Love! I call you the sweet poison, since I don’t know any other name more nice for you”…

تو را من زهر شیرین خوانمت ای عشق
که نامی خوشتر از اینت ندانم

And once I called the life: “sweet eternal poison”…I believe that life has no meaning without love…


ای با من و پنهان شده از دل سلامت می کنم
تو کعبه ای هرجا روم قصد مقامت می کنم

holding

Not strong to hold a love in the life
But smart enough to hide it in the oblivion...






writing is confiding in words

morning eyes...

…watched me every morning … I could feel how worried they were…
I couldn’t even look in to those young eyes… although they became the kind good morning of every day…
I respect this talent of touching someone’s soul… with letting it to be as it is, without interrupting it by any word or action…
If they were not so young, may be I could dare to look in to them… and respect them in other ways…
But they were not old and dirty as my eyes…
Now they are gone

still alive

and breathing

THE UTILITY OF NON-EXISTENCE

Though thirty spokes may form the wheel,it is the hole within the hubwhich gives the wheel utility.
It is not the clay the potter throws,which gives the pot its usefulness,but the space within the shape,from which the pot is made.
Without a door, the room cannot be entered,and without windows it is dark.
Such is the utility of non-existence.

drop

I’m leaking, it absorbs me
I’m falling, it lies softly there
I’m disappearing, it appears to hide me

I’m not afraid since I can see there is something if I wait for it to be…

dirty

An Iris of meat with fat all around it, like a red island in a yellow sea… and some bloody scratches like floating boats on the sea…
It was my eye…And I was looking it in the mirror of bathroom in my dream! Wondering if I could wash all that dirt away…

sea

I’ve lost my ability of keeping silence
Like a stormy sea which have lost its calmness
When would I be myself again?

express

It is waste of the time,
But it is what I feel, truly in this moment, by my whole … I don’t know…. What I have……

I’m always afraid of wasting my time the way people do… it’s quite a week that I have not played computer games, since I have met some awful people who are addicted to it, just like me before last week… but this is a different case…even if it’s waste of the time, I would not feel free if I avoid expressing my feelings… whatever they are… I just might be sorry if expressing them hurt someone or me.
In general, there are two kinds of wasting time: when the object of wasting is outside my mind, and when it’s inside my mind… you may prevent the outside from disturbing your mind and life and time, but you can hardly do anything with your mind!

There are some holes, black holes, inside mind… they may be caused by a kind of fear, question, memory, or secret… they got strong gravity… every activity in mind would end in one of them… they absorb thoughts, steal them, eat them, or force them to dance around them… once they created, they won’t calm down during lifetime…
they just overcome each other…
black holes…
in mind...
mine...

1+1

I was thinking about changing my name and surname that suddenly I found out that since I’m a woman, I’m the end of myself…. Nobody would inherit my name…. I’m a point, not a line…. Just a point in the life of an old world…
And it got so easier to delete myself … or to do whatever I like…
It caused the desires of life and death both get stronger…. But any way more disappointed …
What a life!




Why should I see all the kinds of abusive behaviors of people? My eyes get dirty… My soul feels if she has eaten a nauseating food…
How can I tolerate it? I wish I could wash it away… but it’s not so easy… first I should find a structure to justify the situation… then as a false structure I can throw it away… but without finding out the reasons, without understanding I can’t release…

happy

They told me: “He is silly again and we don’t know why… May be happiness makes him so…”
And I was silly too…. Where it means happy…. We were there together to laugh at every silly thing and we seemed silly to others…
I was a frind of their childhood memories…. When they were real kids… now they have grown up… They are young men…. But they still seem kids to me, the way the children always seem kids to their mothers…

carrying

These days I feel like a suicide bomber in an empty world,
who is carrying something heavy and ready to explode: My Heart

fitting

I watch my face in the glasses of the city beside the face of the people around me
And I can see how tired is my face
And I ask myself if I really live a sadder life...but of course not.....
The hard practice in my life that makes me really tired is
Trying to fit my life to my desires, ideals, rules….
And of course every body tries too….
But the difference is in what we try for….

Katherine Mansfield

Now it is Loneliness who comes at night
Instead of Sleep, to sit beside my bed.
Like a tired child I lie and wait her tread,
I watch her softly blowing out the light.
Motionless sitting, neither left or right
She turns, and weary, weary droops her head.
She, too, is old; she, too, has fought the fight.
So, with the laurel she is garlanded.
Through the sad dark the slowly ebbing tide
Breaks on a barren shore, unsatisfied.
A strange wind flows... then silence. I am fain
To turn to Loneliness,to take her hand,
Cling to her, waiting,till the barren land
Fills with the dreadful monotone of rain.

Asana.

Remember that the asana practice is a personal tool to help you to know yourself. Along the way, you will improve your health and build a wonderful relationship with your body -- the ultimate entertainment center.

Asana: Savasana

believing

“love is a miracle”,
but “the sense of closure” would not expire.

Life of some people is like a flat board: You can put every thing in it and take it away at every time. There could be no evidence that if it is a correct positioning or not….
Even there is no right positioning…. You can begin from a point and make any picture that you want……….(if you just know the borders)

But for some people it is a little more complicated…..it’s a puzzle…..so it has been somehow designed before every event. It has a structure… what ever it gets more similar to a complicated puzzle it gets more vague for any consideration…..cause in a case, you see something is fitting to some where, but you have not any knowledge about the whole picture to know if it is exactly the right place or not. Since it fits, the mind would prefer to think that it is the right piece for the right place but with a usual doubt in it. So you would think that you are making something…that it is making a process…you would be hopeful where you may completely wrong…….
After a few such mistakes you would learn that you should not be sure any more…. And there the real problem of these lives would happen: they always think about the degree of uncertainty of their choices…..and it may come that they could not make any choice any more…. They stop accepting the pieces,
accepting fitness,
and believing….

worded

Some times I don’t write because I can’t, but some times because I don’t want my thoughts or feelings to be written, to be worded, to be phrazed, to be memorable….
Last days I was not sure I could write if I wanted to, …but today I’m sure I can write, and I’m sure I don’t want to.
I don’t need any advice or sympathy, so I’m not going to write any story here at all…. I have many stories to be written…..
But
Writing is always a therapeutic way to overcome feelings…. To see them in the contrast of created sentences, used words, their effectiveness, logic power, or strength.
And what is the Logic Power of feelings seen in the sentences? Confusing!!! Right??? That’s a new issue…… I will discuss later….

One may get closer to my feelings with these words:
Anger, pride, closure, vanity, conscious, confidence, love

There was a game we used to play sometimes inspired from making a sentence with a word that was our homework in the school …. Making proses with some words ….

play

patient

I feel weak!
even my hand writing has been changed, and I can't stand watching it on the paper...and that's a disaster...............lines could not be in the shape of my feelings....

sex, lies, & video tapes

Object of your obsession is invariably something negative which you have no control over.

Being happy isn’t all that great. The last time I was really happy I got so fat.

Right now I have one key. Everything I own is in the car. If I get an apartment, that’s two keys. If I got a job, I might have to open and close. That’s more keys. You know, buy some stuff then I’m afraid it’ll get ripped of it. Then I get more keys. You know I just like having one key. It’s clean.

I was a miserable failure in therapy. It was silly for me. So I formed my own theory that you should never take advice from someone who doesn’t know you intimately.

-You always underestimate me.
- I wonder why

I didn’t think it would have veins, ridges or any thing. I just thought it would be smooth. Like a test tube. The organ itself seemed like a separate thing and a separate entity to me.

-I don’t want to talk about it.
-Ok. Then don’t.

-I could have easily assumed that you didn’t want to make love to me because you were having an affair.
-I’m not.
-well, I’m not either.
-then why don’t I believe you?

I just sit around and start inventing these intricate scenarious and then I don’t want to have wasted my time, so I want to believe them.

-Things are getting complicated.
-no, they’re getting really simple.

My life is shit. It’s just shit. Nothing is what I thought it was.

I hate it when I have feelings that she has. It bothers me when I think about men, because I know that’s the way she thinks.

I was a pathological liar. Or I am, I should say. Lying is like alcoholism. You’re continually recovering.

I used to express my feelings nonverbally and often scared people who were close to me.

Am I supposed to recount all the points in my life leading up to this moment and then hope that it’s coherent ... that it makes some sort of sense to you? It doesn’t make any sense to me.

You are wearing blue, I’m wearing blue. Is this some sort of weird coincidence? I don’t think so. I think it’s something more.

-I think it’s gonna rain.
-It is raining.
-yeah

Ses

Just a few minutes after entering to a chat room I did believe that there is nothing remained for people to talk about it except their need for any kind of sex.
Body is an easy stuff to share. But .....................................................
S
O
U
L
?
?
?

new nights

To think different…To feel different…To act different…of course would lead you to touch loneliness…







I’m reaching safety…no feeling would have right to disturb me…especially the one that never could live long in me: HATE







I have not experienced real damage and loneliness simultaneously more than 1 or 2 times in my life. So it’s the second or third time.






How nights would be precious again ………………………………

found

At last, it occurred…
Something is :
tempting me to be awake…
whispering in my ears to stay alive…
nursing me to get strong…
inviting me to dance in a great show…
beating with my heart…
floating in my blood … Hot…

Once I was searching for such feelings,and I was waiting for Love…
now I’ve found it
in Hate…
At last, it occurred…

here is

Dead sleep(every body)
& alive pain(I feel)
need a lullaby(forgot the rhythm)
for naughty children of memories(naughty)
&(here is a drop)
exhausted mother of oblivion(too old)
(and here is another)

(and here is another) (and here is another)


(and here ........)


...........
........ ............ .....
.......... ..........









Don't waste a breath
Don't shed a tear

TO: PLAY

I was not going to play around and waste my time and wisdom and energy and will…………….now I’m just playing…………..
I almost forget everything, which is not part of a play arranged by myself or started so………….. DANGER…… DANGEROUS…….and SO ABSURD………….
Frequently…..new games….without delay…after each other……
playful life….but without joy….

yes, i've lost my mind

perfect

just perfect people would experience perfect love

This night, the rain was dedicated to me,…to see the glory of the sky when moans and relax in rainwalking... that was a gift

شیشه پنجره را باران شست...



از دل من اما


....

All the impossible I wanna do

We are a proud nation…,cause we hold on great international exhibitions for the most educated people…we have the most educated people with high communication abilities selling stuffs at the street corners of the exhibition place or driving the taxies,
He even knows the Newton’s third law in english:

FOR EVERY ACTION, THERE IS A REACTION…

And his young boy was training near him!!!! I don’t know if the boy knows the third law too or not!
I wish so many things……….but no difference…at last I want to forget life and wishes as well as regrets …….
I want to empty my veins

veins

headache at least causes silly dreams:

some one brought me to the hospital that in every scene was one of the men i know in my life!
i was dying, without a clear reason...just like for every old patient woman, it was routine!
the muscles of my left arm were completely seperated...doctor told me my veins,which have the signs of bloody memories, are empty...
i lied on the bed, doctor left, knowing that i need solitude...

i don't remember any other scene.

It snows silently

but it doesn't rain so,
i should remember last night as one of the heavily rainy nights of my life.

how similar close dears could be to hateable imaginations...

takallom mahrami mikhaahad, amma nist
takallom TaKaLLoM takallom
mahram mahrami MAHRAMi MAHRAMI mikhahad nist nist nist nist nistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistnistNISTNIStnisTNist


last night i was going to write about the "conservation of luck",but it was a rainy night......and such writing couldn't make me feel good.....and rainy!

RED fly

No border between meaning of dreams and nightmares:for me, both of them find a meaning by RUNNING

I’m here at the point of reality…dreams are there,far far away… and nightmares are the way to reach them
I can’t see the kingdom of dreams, I can’t even imagine, I just see the way and feel the need TO RUN

How?

with a red fly : my nightmare

( I can’t write even half of half of what I feel)

coin

i don't know where i got that coin...i put it in my bag, NOT where i usually put the changes...
once it fell down on the chair, i collected it...then in the street it fell down again on the earth...but this time i didn't collect it...it was just a coin, for me nothing but a problem, but may someone, passing the street, find it precious.
it was my habit to collect the coin,i didn't need it...
may be i shouldn't collect it at the first time...

no motion

did i prevent with an stop?
going forward is as dangerous as returning back!

may be it's not the problem of the road, danger is in my trend of passing...
or may be this is my only possible road...
or may be there is no danger, it's my illustration...
or may be danger is always all around...
or may be all these feelings are because of lack of my bravery...

any way, now that i'm scared, going forward causes a feeling as fearful as returning back...
there is no motion to feel safe

may be time could help me forget this intense fear from danger...

where...?

all the night asking myself where i can rest.....

touch me with your naked hand
touch me with your glove
dance me to the end of love

to...?

there are not so many stories in the life.....there are many pieces that just a few of them are enough to make the story of someone's life.

even sometimes the life is a doublet of one story with or without different names for characters. this is the most confusing case that the hero of the story knows everything and can't do anything to prevent or force something to happen.

on the other hand "Dreams come true", so i hope the case ends for dreamers with their dreams... may be that could be a solution for self-organizing puzzle of someone's life:

To Dream

In the hospital

Sitting between pink walls,
watching white lights,
hearing various sad cries,
eating without appetite,
talking when you have right …
and turning to the face of someone suffering like you on the other bed :
the circle of senses in the hospital

..............................................

no Power & no Love................................................................
nothing................................................ but Tears

scary

he was kidding with me until i answered the last one....he stood by the phone and told loudly: "i wanna talk to my wife"....i felt a deep happiness when he was talking so sweet to his wife...although a question was in my mind: Y he was so scared?

i feel powerful, but i don't know what kind of power is it...is it the will? or my regained ability for Love? or may be it's not just my power...it's the fear of people from every unknown phenomena or every destroyed place...

a face so similar to "Y"

I was walking & talking to her…I didn’t even notice him riding wheels full of boxes exactly toward me…after crashing,I just noticed a pain in my arm and an smiling face … a happy smile…asking forgiveness by words.
I said nothing. Staring at him I was asking myself “Y”????he was still smiling…
Another young man was shocked and stopped behind me…looking frequently me and the rider…with a face so similar to “Y”

Y

I would like to write here about my daily experiences and their consequences in my mind...
all my friends are welcome to comment about them,

i have noticed that some of people are just interested in my thoughts....here is a place for them too, to enjoy where they should, instead of entering to my private life...

i hope writing could help me pass through my thoughts safely.

1st Question

To Write In English Or Farsi?
This Is The First Question!

For me,Here was somehow like a mobile...everybody asks me if i own any or not...now it differs

so!

i should think how to use it