Saturday, September 25, 2010

Two things I want to have the most in the world right now and the two things I definitely should not have in the world right now, are the same. A good DSLR and a new flute!

and maybe, maybe, what I need the most but I want the least is a "coin operated boy"!

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Is it the fall equinox? because I'm definitely not on my period!

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Victims of a coincidence

Through Sara Bafte: 30 years ago, on September 22 an 8 year war started that changed our lives forever. To the memories of our childhood lost in the bomb shelters, all those dark nights filled with explosions and "red alarms" which meant Iraqi bombers were flying above our heads... And to the memories of all the victims of war.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Wind is my full moon and it's all Forough's fault!

Sunday, September 19, 2010

She wrote me a poem, on a piece of torn paper, on a night we were leaving her alone, and she would not be there to make magic, with sound, noise and her colors and her toys. The girl that does not say much but can see the corner of your soul and eyes, eyes, eyes, big love-crumbs.

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh ... And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

E. E. Cummings

Thursday, September 16, 2010

It's so funny how even my personal history repeats itself too.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Mon enfance passa

Where is your smile, I wondered, as you were walking down the stairs, holding a little girl's hand in your hand. A girl I didn't know, with the same curly hair as yours, staring at what was ahead, at what there was not, just like you were. Trying to walk down the stairs in perfect synchrony and one couldn't see the trying in your faces, you would not slow down or speed up, trying was in the paleness in your thumbs, squeezing the girl's hand, forcing her to adjust.

I watched you patiently, taking a million steps towards my table. You took a glance as you were sitting down, the girl staring at me, with a hint of curiosity and you, emotionless, expressionless, mute. Where is your smile? I wondered again.

The only thing reassuring me that time had not stopped was the shadow of the tree we were sitting under, moving as time passed. But I had not yet finished even one page of my book, the girl I didn't know hadn't taken her stare off me, why wouldn't she go and play? why didn't I say a word? where did you disapear to so suddenly?

Tonight, the little girl whom I don't know, who is not talking, is sleeping on the floor, still staring, such a heavy look that can wake you up from the deepest sleep, the eyes, and the smile, and I am the closest thing there is to crazy.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Don't try

"Somebody at one of these places [...] asked me: "What do you do? How do you write, create?" You don't, I told them. You don't try. That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like its looks you make a pet out of it." Charles Bukowski

Farnoosh Fasihi told me this when I was 12, I didn't quite get it, so I stopped writing music all together, but I completely agree now!

Saturday, September 11, 2010

I don't wanna grow up either, but I wish Tom Waits did, I want him as my uncle (and Leonard Cohen as my grandpa! of course) and that's a childish thing to say so I guess I have accomplished not-growing-up so far!

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Few minutes ago, I found my first strand of grey hair,... I thought I was genetically prone against early grey hair, since my mom only had two when she turned 50! oh life ...

one could say it's not that early! I'm twenty eight years old. twenty eight, years, old!

Thursday, September 02, 2010

Some conscience-aches never heal, even long after you've been forgiven. Maybe it's the regret that feels like a burden on your conscience, I don't know. I hope all her dreams come true, all the same.

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

میفرمایند که

We are ruins within ruins
On every corner a gladiator is begging for another century
When no one cut your tongue to know nothing and to know it all
To be both the animal and god