I am optimistic and excited. That's what I call the magic of a genuine smile and a friendly greeting. ;) :D :P :D

I am optimistic and very much excited.

Liberation from deliberation.

... and life goes on.

It is damn too much!.. :| :(

قلندرِ بیدار را عشق است. دَمَت گَرم و سَرَت خوش باد پَهلوون! شما رخصت بفرمایید، ما خودمون چای پارتی می دیم براتون.

پ.ن. بیسکوییت ندارم، ولی اگه بخوای، شیرینی کرمانشاهی، خرمای تِسکو و بادوم و بادوم زمینی دارم

Be pragmatic in your use of defenitions.

I am pleased with it.

جمله سازی

در کوچه باغ آرزوها، خواسته ها و دلبستگی ها، پرسه می زنم.
نقطه سر خط

کفش تنگ روزمرگی رو به کناری می اندازم و، برهنه پا، تن به برهنه سحرا می زنم
نقطه سر خط

آتش می شم و در درخت می گیرم. جوی می شم و بر دامان کوه می پیچم. خاک می شم و بر تفتهء مرگ آفرین تپه ای بیابانی
نرم می غلتم


رسته
آسوده
و خشکیده از اشک

ENOUGH!..

I need life to begin; living to start.

Honest.

Visual arts, perhaps. ;) :D

P.S. I am actually thinking about it.

A tender exploration and an ardent excursion of the world of ideas.

'Simplification', 'Clarification' or 'Purification'?

Well..., in this context, I think these are all about making notions, concepts, reality, truth or ... accessible.

Let's have a look at 'Iran's Management and Planning Organisation'. GOD bless the country.


P.S. I need help with finding a language that could state the truth about my experience, whilst saving the country's face.

اگه قبلا کسی اینو جایی خونده

ایکاش می شد که لحظات شادی رو مارک کنی و...،
به رندوم،
جا به جای حال و آینده ات کپی-پِیست کنی.

ایکاش می شد باهاشون بستنی آلاسکایی درست کنی و...،
سَرِ کوچه،
میون عابرا تقسیم کنی

I danced today, round and round like crazy.
I danced today,
at Uni.,
in a church,
a big book store,
and on my way home.
Round and round, like crazy.

I sang today, loud and proud like crazy.
I sang today.

Four and a half thousand words to freedom. Relief.

P.S. For a long time, I have been thinking that freedom is about one's right and ability to write. I now seek refuge from it.

اگر که درست به خاطر بیارم، "هژیر" به معنی فریاد و غریو شادیه. نمی دونم شادیِ زیبایی که در سکوت تجربه می شه و با سکوت جشن گرفته میشه هم نامی داره یا نه؟

Peace, quiet and satisfaction.

Till God do us part.

آرامش و عمل گرایی (پراگماتیزم) انگلسی ها؛ گرما و شور احساسات ایتالیایی ها؛ سوآرِه، روش کلام و موضوعات صحبت فرانسوی ها؛ دوستی کردن، تواضع و صراحت آلمانی ها؛ سادگی، صفا و محبت اسپانیایی ها؛ و غرور - گاه بی منطق - یونانی ها رو دوست دارم.

پ.ن. این گروه آخر تو کله شقی و حماقت مثل خودمون هستند.
پ.ن. گاهی فکر می کنم که نسبت انگلیسیا (یا حتی فراتر از اون، انگلسانسون ها) به اروپایی ها، مثل نسبت استرالیایی هاست به انگلیسی ها

Is it easy?
Does it make me feel good?
Do I look forward to being with her?

Well..., I am not sure. I'd like to keep it light, fun and real. None of the three it is. Not any more.

An old fashion tale of wisdom is the best one could expect from most re-branded, self flattering prophets. Not you.

Frankly, I didn't like the premiss behind the story, its packaging or delivery.

It doesn’t feel like Mohammad. Traditionally, there was a flavour of originality that would colour your work. I am afraid; these recent notes look more like a second hand copy of what a radio presenter would preach in a Sunday afternoon, than the creative juice of a mind like yours.

P.S. I need to call you for an interview. When is the best time for you?..

Why would one want to investigate 'art' vs. 'science'?.. Why not investigating 'art' and 'science' in their unity. Their unifying quality. Their rich oneness.

What do I want to do with it?..

e hed fool of marveless knew aydeas, ease mai kus ov sofferin.

دلم می خواد که خونه ام رو از نور و شور و رقص و پایکوب پر بکنم

I am not sure what is going on in my mind, but I suddenly found a stiking similarity between the word 'substitute' and 'prostitute'.

- Bless me.

The beauty of these sleepless nights is in the glory of the genuine effort, one commits to thrive and cherish the dignity of a responsible, productive and prosperous life.

Write her a letter. ;) :D

It's good to know that you are still in. The question is, 'where you go next?'

…I’d leave them all, and head for sailing.

Luciano Pavarotti was my second Italian love.

The buried life - Matthew Arnold

But often, in the world's most crowded streets,
But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire,
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us - to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.
And we have been on many thousand lines,
And we have shown, on each, spirit and power;
But hardly have we, for one little hour,
Been on our own line, have we been ourselves -
Hardly had skill to utter one of all
The nameless feelings that course through our breast,
But they course on forever unexpressed.
And long we try in vain to speak and act
Our hidden self, and what we say and do
Is eloquent, is well - but 'tis not true.

Only - but this is rare -
When a beloved hand is laid in ours,
When jaded with the rush and glare
Of the interminable hours,
Our eyes can in another's eyes read clear,
When our world deafen'd ear
Is by the tones of a loved voice caresss'd -
A bolt is shot back somewhere in our breast,
And a lost pulse of feeling stirs again,
The eye sinks inward and the heart lies plain,
And what we mean we say, and what we would, we know.

I am lucky!..
I am happy.