Monday, December 31, 2007
2007 was a great year...
I travelled all over: NY, DC,Tehran, Shomal, Italy, Spain , SF , Tahoe...
I had fun with lifelong friends
I had fun with new friends
I got over recent mistakes
I found the "Nani" inside me again
I finally belonged only to myself
I've always loved the number 7...
Let's see what randomness 2008 will bring me...
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Mia: Don't you hate that?
Vincent: What?
Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Vincent: I don't know. That's a good question.
Mia: That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.
-Pulp Fiction
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
I have burned my tomorrow
And I stand inside today
At the edge of the future
And my dreams all fade away
And burn my shadow away
Fate’s my destroyer
I was ambushed by the light
And you judged me once for falling
This wounded heart arrives
And burn my shadow away
When I see the light
True love forever
Burn my shadow
Oh burn my shadow away
And burn my shadow away
Oh how I loved you
And I stand inside today
At the edge of the future
And my dreams all fade away
And burn my shadow away
Fate’s my destroyer
I was ambushed by the light
And you judged me once for falling
This wounded heart arrives
And burn my shadow away
When I see the light
True love forever
Burn my shadow
Oh burn my shadow away
And burn my shadow away
Oh how I loved you
Saturday, October 27, 2007
آیدا در آينه
لبانت
به ظرافت ِ شعر
شهوانيترين ِ بوسهها را به شرمي چنان مبدل ميکند که جاندار ِ غارنشين از آن سود ميجويد تا به صورت ِ انسان درآيد
و گونههايت
با دو شيار ِ مورّب
که غرور ِ تو را هدايت ميکنند و
سرنوشت ِ مرا
که شب را تحمل کردهام
بيآنکه به انتظار ِ صبح
مسلح بوده باشم
و بکارتي سربلند ر ااز روسبيخانههاي ِ دادوستد سربه مُهر بازآوردهام
هرگز کسي اين گونه فجيع به کشتن ِ خود برنخاست که من به زندگي نشستم
و چشمانات راز ِ آتش است
و عشقت پيروزيِ آدميست هنگامي که به جنگ ِ تقدير ميشتابد
و آغوشت اندک جائي براي ِ زيستن اندک جائي براي ِ مردن
و گريز ِ از شهر
که با هزار انگشت
به وقاحت
پاکي ِ آسمان را متهم ميکن
و گريز ِ از شهر
که با هزار انگشت
به وقاحت
پاکي ِ آسمان را متهم ميکن
کوه با نخستين سنگها آغاز ميشود و انسان با نخستين درد
در من زنداني ِ ستمگري بود که به آواز ِ زنجيرش خو نميکرد ــ من با نخستين نگاه ِ تو آغاز شدم
توفانها
در رقص ِ عظيم ِ تو
به شکوهمندي
نيلبکي مينوازند
در رقص ِ عظيم ِ تو
به شکوهمندي
نيلبکي مينوازند
و ترانه رگهايت آفتاب ِ هميشه را طالع ميکند
بگذار چنان از خواب برآيم که کوچههايِ شهرحضور ِ مرا دريابند
بگذار چنان از خواب برآيم که کوچههايِ شهرحضور ِ مرا دريابند
دستانت آشتي است و دوستاني که ياري ميدهند
تا دشمني
از ياد
برده شود
پيشانيات آينهئي بلند است تابناک و بلند، که خواهران ِ هفتگانه در آن مينگرند تا به زيبائي ِ خويش دست يابند
دو پرندهي ِ بيطاقت در سينهات آواز ميخوانند.تابستان از کدامين راه فرا خواهد رسيد تا عطش آبها را گواراتر کند؟
تا دشمني
از ياد
برده شود
پيشانيات آينهئي بلند است تابناک و بلند، که خواهران ِ هفتگانه در آن مينگرند تا به زيبائي ِ خويش دست يابند
دو پرندهي ِ بيطاقت در سينهات آواز ميخوانند.تابستان از کدامين راه فرا خواهد رسيد تا عطش آبها را گواراتر کند؟
تا در آئينه پديدار آئي عمري دراز در آن نگريستم
من برکهها و درياها را گريستم
اي پري وار ِ در قالب ِ آدمي که پيکرت جز در خُلوارهي ِ ناراستي نميسوزد!
ــحضورت بهشتيست که گريز ِ از جهنم را توجيه ميکند،دريائي که مرا در خود غرق ميکند تا از همه گناهان و دروغ شسته شوم
و سپيدهدم با دستهايت بيدار ميشود
و سپيدهدم با دستهايت بيدار ميشود
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
Friday, October 19, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Sunday, September 30, 2007
So far away
Come on I'll take you far away
Let's get away
Come on let's make a get away
Once you have loved someone this much
you doubt it could fade
despite how much you'd like it to
how you'd like it
you'd like it to fade
Let's fade together
Let's fade forever
Let's fade together
Let's fade forever
Let's fade together
If we get away
You know we might just stay away
So stay awake
Oh, why the hell should I stay awake?
When you're far away
Oh you are so far away
Let's fade together
Let's fade forever
Let's fade together
Let's fade forever
Let's fade together
Let's fade forever
Let's fade together
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
To be, or not to be,
— that is the question: —
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? — To die, to sleep, —
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; —
To sleep, perchance to dream: — ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death, —
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, — puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know naught of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action...
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? — To die, to sleep, —
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; —
To sleep, perchance to dream: — ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death, —
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, — puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know naught of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action...
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Friday, August 03, 2007
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
Fitter, happier, more productive,
comfortable,
not drinking too much,
regular exercise at the gym
(3 days a week),
getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries ,
at ease,
eating well
(no more microwave dinners and saturated fats),
a patient better driver,
a safer car
(baby smiling in back seat),
sleeping well
(no bad dreams),
no paranoia,
careful to all animals
(never washing spiders down the plughole),
keep in contact with old friends
(enjoy a drink now and then),
will frequently check credit at
(moral) bank (hole in the wall),
favors for favors,
fond but not in love,
charity standing orders,
on Sundays ring road supermarket
(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants),
car wash
(also on Sundays),
no longer afraid of the dark or midday shadows
nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate,
nothing so childish - at a better pace,
slower and more calculated,
no chance of escape,
now self-employed,
concerned (but powerless),
an empowered and informed member of society
(pragmatism not idealism),
will not cry in public,
less chance of illness,
tires that grip in the wet
(shot of baby strapped in back seat),
a good memory,
still cries at a good film,
still kisses with saliva,
no longer empty and frantic
like a cat
tied to a stick,
that's driven into
frozen winter shit
(the ability to laugh at weakness),
calm,
fitter,
healthier and more productive
a pig
in a cage
on antibiotics...
comfortable,
not drinking too much,
regular exercise at the gym
(3 days a week),
getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries ,
at ease,
eating well
(no more microwave dinners and saturated fats),
a patient better driver,
a safer car
(baby smiling in back seat),
sleeping well
(no bad dreams),
no paranoia,
careful to all animals
(never washing spiders down the plughole),
keep in contact with old friends
(enjoy a drink now and then),
will frequently check credit at
(moral) bank (hole in the wall),
favors for favors,
fond but not in love,
charity standing orders,
on Sundays ring road supermarket
(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants),
car wash
(also on Sundays),
no longer afraid of the dark or midday shadows
nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate,
nothing so childish - at a better pace,
slower and more calculated,
no chance of escape,
now self-employed,
concerned (but powerless),
an empowered and informed member of society
(pragmatism not idealism),
will not cry in public,
less chance of illness,
tires that grip in the wet
(shot of baby strapped in back seat),
a good memory,
still cries at a good film,
still kisses with saliva,
no longer empty and frantic
like a cat
tied to a stick,
that's driven into
frozen winter shit
(the ability to laugh at weakness),
calm,
fitter,
healthier and more productive
a pig
in a cage
on antibiotics...
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Let me sing you a waltz
Out of nowhere, out of my thoughts
Let me sing you a waltz
About this one night stand
You were for me that night
Everything I always dreamt of in life
But now you're gone
You are far gone
All the way to your island of rain
It was for you just a one night thing
But you were much more to me
Just so you know
I hear rumors about you
About all the bad things you do
But when we were together alone
You didn't seem like a player at all
I don't care what they say
I know what you meant for me that day
I just wanted another try
I just wanted another night
Even if it doesn't seem quite right
You meant for me much more
Than anyone I've met before
One single night with you little "..."
Out of nowhere, out of my thoughts
Let me sing you a waltz
About this one night stand
You were for me that night
Everything I always dreamt of in life
But now you're gone
You are far gone
All the way to your island of rain
It was for you just a one night thing
But you were much more to me
Just so you know
I hear rumors about you
About all the bad things you do
But when we were together alone
You didn't seem like a player at all
I don't care what they say
I know what you meant for me that day
I just wanted another try
I just wanted another night
Even if it doesn't seem quite right
You meant for me much more
Than anyone I've met before
One single night with you little "..."
Is worth a thousand with anybody
I have no bitterness, my sweet
I'll never forget this one night thing
Even tomorrow, another arms
My heart will "..."
I have no bitterness, my sweet
I'll never forget this one night thing
Even tomorrow, another arms
My heart will "..."
Let me sing you a waltz
Out of nowhere, out of my blues
Let me sing you a waltz
About this lovely one night stand
Thursday, May 10, 2007
So I have definitely transformed into a "moody" (maybe even manic?!) human being...
I was great for the past 10 days, absolutely great then yesterday down down down...
What if I cant find someone to love? And by love I mean romantic love? What will I do with all the love I have left inside of me??? Oh yeah I forgot I was supposed to not think about "the future"...
I was great for the past 10 days, absolutely great then yesterday down down down...
What if I cant find someone to love? And by love I mean romantic love? What will I do with all the love I have left inside of me??? Oh yeah I forgot I was supposed to not think about "the future"...
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Yaay, summer is here-almost :)
Friday is my last day at work. I have never been so illogical before. I just decided to quit and leave. I guess it’s because I have no “motivation”,"passion”,"inspiration”, "...tion”.Oh well the plan (I don’t know if you can really call it a plan) is to take every day as it comes, one at a time. For now at least...
Saturday, May 05, 2007
I bought a bright blue bicycle today.
It took me back in time, it was a semi-time machine (I'm a genius I've invented a time machine!). I was soooo excited when I bought it , brought it home and almost immediately hopped on and started riding it... The wind in my face was exactly like when I was 10... It's funny how something as simple as a bicycle can remind you of freedom and pureness...
Monday, April 30, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
I've received the same "what is love" email , from several different people these past few years, (I read it every time ) ,it's supposedly a list of answers from 4-8 year old kids when they are asked the question "what is love"
This one is by far my favorite answer:
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you."
Monday, April 23, 2007
You always feel guilty, responsible for what happens…
But we can’t control our lives completely. We do what we can.
Maybe you should learn to wait instead of always having to act
Learn to be idle that doesn’t mean passive
Just take a more relaxed approach towards life and the world
What do you think?
-From "the son's room"
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Companionship
We (humans) are constantly looking for a companion, someone to share a moment/ a day/ a life with. This urge is so powerful that we -as logical human beings- fake ourselves to believe. We believe in a moment and think what if it’s true? What if this is what I've been looking for all my life?
I really don't think people are assholes by nature, I think it's the desire to belong to someone and have someone belong to them (for an hour/a day...) , that gives them courage to lie . For some the desire turns into affection and maybe love. For others ...
After all what do we have in this chaotic world but wanting to belong to someone/somewhere/something?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Think about what happens in the aftermath of a failed relationship or a missed opportunity. We may grieve, but also sometimes we obsessively construct a future fantasy based on what should have happened if things had gone right; if only some vital detail didn't change things how it did. We inhabit that imagined future and interact with our counterpart ghost, making plans and times and places accordingly. We might use this process as a shield and a warning. Or it sabotages, taking on a life of its own as a mental blueprint, directing the actual present and perceptions of new companions.
Love is all a matter of timing, its no good meeting the right person too soo or too late...
-From 2046
Thursday, April 05, 2007
I guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.
If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was raining very hard.
That is my name.
Or somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong--"Sorry for the mistake,"--and you had to do something else.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was a game that you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.
That is my name.
Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.
If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was raining very hard.
That is my name.
Or somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong--"Sorry for the mistake,"--and you had to do something else.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was a game that you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.
That is my name.
Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.
That is my name.
Perhaps you stared into a river. There was somebody near you who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.
That is my name.
Or you heard someone calling from a great distance. Their voice was almost an echo.
That is my name.
Perhaps you were lying in bed, almost ready to go to sleep and you laughed at something, a joke unto yourself, a good way to end the day.
That is my name.
Or you were eating something good and for a second forgot what you were eating, but still went on, knowing it was good.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was around midnight and the fire tolled like a bell inside the stove.
That is my name.
Or you felt bad when she said that thing to you. She could have told it to someone else: Somebody who was more familiar with her problems.
That is my name.
Perhaps the trout swam in the pool but the river was only eight inches wide and the moon shone on ideath and the watermelon fields glowed out of proportion, dark and the moon seemed to
rise from every plant.
That is my name.
Perhaps you stared into a river. There was somebody near you who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.
That is my name.
Or you heard someone calling from a great distance. Their voice was almost an echo.
That is my name.
Perhaps you were lying in bed, almost ready to go to sleep and you laughed at something, a joke unto yourself, a good way to end the day.
That is my name.
Or you were eating something good and for a second forgot what you were eating, but still went on, knowing it was good.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was around midnight and the fire tolled like a bell inside the stove.
That is my name.
Or you felt bad when she said that thing to you. She could have told it to someone else: Somebody who was more familiar with her problems.
That is my name.
Perhaps the trout swam in the pool but the river was only eight inches wide and the moon shone on ideath and the watermelon fields glowed out of proportion, dark and the moon seemed to
rise from every plant.
That is my name.
-From "In Watermelon Sugar by Richard Brautigan"
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
From TrainSpotting:
"At one time, you've got it, and then you lose it, and it's gone forever"
"This was to be my final hit. But let's be clear about this: there's final hits and final hits... What kind was this to be? ...Some final hits are actually terminal one way or another, while others are merely transit points as you travel from station to station on the junky journey through junky life..."
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Saturday, February 03, 2007
...
می توان با زيرکی تحقير کرد
هر معمای شگفتی را
می توان تنها به حل جدولی پرداخت
می توان تنها به کشف پاسخی بيهوده دل خوش ساخت
پاسخی بيهوده آری پنج يا شش حرف
می توان چون صفر در تفريق و جمع و ضرب
حاصلی پيوسته يکسان داشت
می توان چون آب در گودال خود خشکيد
می توان زيبايی يک لحظه را با شرم
مثل يک عکس سياه مضحک فوری
در ته صندوق مخفی کرد
می توان در قاب خالی مانده ی يک روز
نقش يک محکوم يا مصلوب يا مغلوب را آويخت
می توان با صورتک ها رخنه ی ديوار را پوشاند
می توان با نقش های پوچتر آميخت
می توان همچون عروسک های کوکی بود
با دو چشم شيشه ای دنيای خود را ديد
می توان در جعبه ی ماهوت
با تنی انباشته از کاه
سال ها در لابلای تور و پولک خفت
میتوان با هر فشار هرزه ی دستی
بی سبب فرياد کرد و گفت
آه من بسيار خوشبختم
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Ice-age heat wave, can't complain.
If the world's at large, why should I remain?
Walked away to another plan.
Gonna find another place, maybe one I can stand.
I move on to another day,
to a whole new town with a whole new way.
Went to the porch to have a thought.
Got to the door and again, I couldn't stop.
You don't know where and you don't know when.
But you still got your words and you got your friends.
Walk along to another day.
Work a little harder, work another way.
I know that starting over is not what life's about.
But my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud.
If the world's at large, why should I remain?
Walked away to another plan.
Gonna find another place, maybe one I can stand.
I move on to another day,
to a whole new town with a whole new way.
Went to the porch to have a thought.
Got to the door and again, I couldn't stop.
You don't know where and you don't know when.
But you still got your words and you got your friends.
Walk along to another day.
Work a little harder, work another way.
I know that starting over is not what life's about.
But my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?
Why can't we give love that one more chance?
Why can't we give love give love give love?
Give love give love give love give love give love give love?
Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care
For the people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way
Of caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under Pressure
Under Pressure
Pressure
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