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…