tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37556052012-01-26T06:04:54.058-08:00Slices of Life<i>It's self-descriptive.</i>ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.comBlogger901100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-42185456395904267972011-12-02T15:19:00.000-08:002011-12-02T16:24:17.486-08:00Hank PooriI have been watching Californication. It started all because of my favorite actress Natascha McElhon but then I got interested in Hank Moody's fuck-ups. I never noticed that his life was kind of similar to Charles Bukowski's life but completely Californicated for 21 century, more glamorous and sexier. At the same time, I couldn't understand why all of a sudden I was yearning to go back ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-72069592406203075712010-09-16T23:12:00.000-07:002010-09-16T23:14:01.185-07:00Oh well! Shit happensNothing goes as plannedEverything will breakPeople say goodbyeIn their own special wayAll that you can rely onAnd all that you could fakeWill leave you in the morningCome find you in the dayOh, you’re in my veins, and I cannot get you outOh, you’re all I taste, at night inside of my mouthOh, you run away, cause I am not what you foundOh, you’re in my veins, and I cannot get ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-12022423349404897832010-09-16T10:33:00.001-07:002010-09-16T10:33:51.848-07:00ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-67283591897184481102010-09-12T22:03:00.000-07:002010-09-12T22:06:15.006-07:00I want to watch this film so badly.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-68015982338444870862010-09-12T21:20:00.000-07:002010-09-13T06:11:50.914-07:00Casually numbIs this "love means nothing" in tennis supposed to be cute or just dorky? I don't know but it's stuck in my head from the that stupid commercial. It's been a long time. We haven't talked. I haven't written here. You have been checking it or if you have, you've become disappointed by seeing the same content. I miss our conversations, about films and things like that. Kind of feel ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-51481221470692198042010-08-07T09:36:00.001-07:002010-08-07T09:36:52.510-07:00Isn't she adorable?ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-82287756752735649792010-08-07T06:38:00.001-07:002010-08-07T06:38:41.253-07:00ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-53669490064649342182010-08-07T06:19:00.000-07:002010-08-07T06:22:34.728-07:00Drifters - Patrick WatsonPS: This Montrealer is extreme of Radiohead. He is very good too but nothing compares to you Thom!ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-52698626063698159632010-07-06T08:07:00.000-07:002010-07-08T11:40:41.281-07:00They both "recommend" things every second as if I am still their 7 year old kid. I was thinking how come I am so angry inside, around them all the time even at vulnerable times like this, that they should be my safety zone and they should have refuge for me but no, it's all frustration in my head and agony in my heart. Ever Since I was able to understand the Commands and the Orders 'till I turnedماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-84306153925896084312010-06-16T07:25:00.000-07:002010-06-16T08:04:58.705-07:00When Artemis passes by a pile of coffee beansHer presence, placid like.Her inner side stormy.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-81551198404020202202010-05-09T09:53:00.001-07:002010-05-09T09:53:34.168-07:00Vergiss Mein Nicht!ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-31021309216663789522010-04-22T16:45:00.000-07:002010-04-22T16:50:37.875-07:00Sea of loveSometimes a piece of music hits me hard; it either makes me ecstatic or extremely sad. This is one of them and Cat Pawor's voice in general makes me fall in love.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-23903128238518433152010-03-20T15:26:00.001-07:002010-03-20T15:26:20.783-07:00ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-63924328777574664462010-03-20T15:24:00.001-07:002010-03-20T15:24:49.865-07:00ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-68865613233263804692010-01-25T13:51:00.000-08:002010-01-25T14:36:47.507-08:00Up in the airWalter Kirn created Ryan Bingham of Up in the air and Jason Reitman rendered him perfectly. In one of Ryan's public presentations he says "Make no mistake your relationships are the heaviest components in your life." Perhaps he never realized the true meaning of that 'till the moment the Captain in the middle of the flight asked him "Where are you from?". With a profoundly sad voice ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-10701387101092731512010-01-10T22:25:00.000-08:002010-01-10T22:35:34.222-08:00رقصی که آرزویش را بر دلم گذاشتی!ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-39441920083009072112010-01-05T17:07:00.000-08:002010-01-05T17:12:01.219-08:00Other Side of The World - KT TunstallOver the sea and far awayShe's waiting like an IcebergWaiting to change,But she's cold insideShe wants to be likethe water,All the muscles tighten in her faceBuries her soul in one embraceThey're one and the sameJust like waterThen the fire fades awayBut most of everydayIs full of tired excusesBut it's too hard to sayI wish it were simpleBut we give up ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-85150277697200682462010-01-04T08:25:00.000-08:002010-01-04T08:47:23.702-08:00Joe Blow or Joe ShmoeNo one thinks they are average Joe, not even average Joe. That term is a myth to everybody, a myth that exists truely but it's not visible to anybody. If I live an adventureless life, if I have a steady 9 to 5 office job with a medium size mortgate and an ordinary Japenese sedan and spend my week days at work and and home after work and eat my dinner in front of the TV and ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-78549280695241408802009-12-13T20:50:00.000-08:002009-12-13T20:53:36.707-08:00Call it offI won't regret saying thisThis thingThat I'm sayingIs it better thanKeeping my mouth shutThat goes without sayingCall, break it offCall, break my own heartMaybe I would have beenSomething you'd be good atMaybe you would have beenSomething I'd be good atBut now we'll never knowI won't be sadBut in caseI'll go thereEveryday,To make myself feel badThere's a chanceI'll start to wonderIf ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-51917901068740260042009-12-07T09:46:00.000-08:002009-12-13T20:57:13.503-08:00Lars Von Trier is a sick sick MF! No more respect for him. Dogville and Breaking the waves were accidents. I regret watching Antichrist.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-48484585824469128592009-10-28T09:28:00.000-07:002009-10-28T09:29:51.340-07:00Ani DiFranco rocks!Ani was fantastic last night in Vancouver.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-49053016017542933702009-10-12T23:25:00.001-07:002009-10-12T23:25:53.046-07:00FoolApartment in New York, London and ParisWhere will we rest, we’re all living on top of itIt’s all that we have the USA is our daily breadAnd no one is willing to share itWhy can’t we see our fortunancyLiving as legends have lived.Bane and dismanneredWe coax all the timeKnowing that nothing is left when we dieCome along FoolA direct hit of the senses you are disconnectedIt’s not that it’s bad…ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-36006546784056436842009-10-12T00:23:00.000-07:002009-10-12T08:00:43.996-07:00Remark the mark for futureThis dream "goes bang bang in my head" and turns into a nightmare, night and day, day and night. I think to myself how come I feel dizzy all the time and not just the moment I get off the bed and land on the ground. On the same lousy shaky ground that moves no matter what I do or how I feel. I should know better it's not the ground that is being shaky, that, it's all in ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-86887692276079861262009-09-16T11:59:00.000-07:002009-09-16T12:06:28.197-07:00Cover your ears and eyes! Please?I can't even write in here anymore. A chest-full scream is stuck in me.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-51383303980287544632009-08-31T10:17:00.000-07:002009-10-08T10:25:01.996-07:00High and Dry but not dry enough yet.I've poisoned you all, every single one of you, with my poems, with my favorite songs and my thoughts. Then I made you "to live up the image" I fabricated of myself. You all fell in the trap, you were drugged. You felt helpless, you had no choice but to fall for this image of me. And then one day you woke up and couldn't take it anymore. You volunteered to ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-90913868211709235012009-08-31T09:33:00.000-07:002009-08-31T09:55:53.186-07:00Get me out of this head!I am sitting in a restaurant in Berlin. People are coming and going. The patio is quite pleasant and peaceful. A mild half cloudy half sunny day with a nice breeze. The only annoying thing is the presence of these bees. They are everywhere in this town and yet no honey in their sack.Across from my table an old man and a man in his mid 40s are sitting together. They seem toماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-48174596734969124002009-08-09T23:19:00.000-07:002009-08-13T10:26:17.250-07:00My 300+ days of herI am definitely over her. Moved on. No hard feelings at all, but I can't understand how everything happened so fast, so out of the natural cosmic order of "boy-meets-girl". I didn't get the chance to make my typical mistakes to be yelled at or to be frowned upon. I didn't get the chance to know if I was slightly wanted, ever, at all, loved? Not even close. My hands, my arms, ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-10902609067770361452009-07-21T11:18:00.000-07:002009-07-21T11:53:08.878-07:00I have no idea how it ends...The movie About Elly, already admired, praised and well awarded in some major festivals and in so many reviews. It has been a success in Iranian box-office under the worse screening circumstances. All of the above is a good indication that the story should have been revealed by now, but it hasn't. As if there has been a collective agreement on not giving away the ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-40456480593416410352009-06-14T22:31:00.000-07:002009-06-14T22:36:41.172-07:00Hell on earthA hell has broken lose again, on this very planet which looks so calm so quiet from outer space. "It's not easy to remain uninvolved"*. One must take a side to remain human.* from The Quiet American by Graham Greeneماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-78399234097574452812009-05-07T09:03:00.000-07:002009-05-07T10:09:36.266-07:00I-spotI was reading my posts in both blogs and I didn't like the person who wrote them. I don't like myself when I'm angry. Being melancholic, listening to melancholic music, dreaming constantly, fancying unattainable idealism, wanting to alter the reality and not accepting my thresholds has turned me into some creep who's unlikely going to change. I wish there was a virtual GPS device that couldماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-64464564571022915362009-04-28T14:38:00.000-07:002009-04-28T14:41:21.876-07:00Heading to mountainsFury should die off in the mountains where no one is around. This way no one gets hurt. I scare myself when I am furious.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-35233685507273312752009-03-19T08:18:00.000-07:002009-03-19T08:28:07.743-07:00A short film about deathExterior - By the foot a high-rise - Breezy March morningTwo strangers passing by from two different directions.First man: You know those things could kill you eh?Second man [holding a cigarette]: Yeah and I'm not gonna quit.First man: I guess it only takes a real man to face death like that.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-34528704140328946482009-03-06T20:22:00.000-08:002009-10-08T10:20:04.142-07:00Simplicity of a mindI can't bear being marginalized in a relationship. Being hid or covered, being loved in the dark, being loved in doubt -if being loved at all- is like being wanted conditionally. We live in the West, in 21st century, but you love me as if it's dark ages and you need to hide me or hide our love. It's cruel and painful. Love is all about altering priorities. You were my priorityماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-72620730706781410412009-01-27T07:32:00.000-08:002009-01-27T07:50:30.410-08:00Hola Ciudad del río del mono, estoy viniendo!Here we go again, back on the ground; realizing and materializing the essence of being lost and down. What do I want to do now? Run away from here? But for running away, I will need navigations, directions, or at least a destination. Where would be a perfect destination? Darwin? Tangier, Minsk? or may be Monkey River Town in Belize for the sake of ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-61442279515087659432009-01-19T19:37:00.000-08:002009-01-19T19:43:14.350-08:00For my joy which died unexpectedlyW. H. Auden Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-91218692348682061192008-11-05T21:44:00.000-08:002009-10-08T10:34:03.466-07:00I am coming homeI am at the verge of breaking or making. Just wait two more months. Just trust me and yourself on this and hang in there with me. The moment I clear everything I'll get a plane ticket and get on board and fly over the ocean to reunite with you.I know this is a hard time for you. Getting out of a cloudy relationship with a heart half leashed to somewhere and somebody that have beenماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-82041719821476850582008-09-03T12:58:00.000-07:002008-09-03T13:34:40.764-07:00Double Scotch, neat please!Distance again. When would you set me free, Distance? When would you end? Where are you leading me? I'm constantly walking you off with a painful knowledge that you won't end ever, if you ever, it'll be perhaps too late. She won't be the same. She won't grow old with me. She will join you, Distance, she will be distant.Is this a pattern in my life? To seek out for love ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-74115935892396067912008-08-03T08:11:00.000-07:002008-08-03T08:22:09.623-07:00In TownToo many Prides* in one townAll driven madlyAll rough looking yet fragileThis one is too proudBe the big man and let him go firstLet go of this PrideLet go*A model of Kia assembled and manufactured in Iranماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-89277110185814068342007-12-05T10:17:00.000-08:002008-05-08T10:35:56.755-07:00Divine Intervention – Elia Suleiman - 2002Anatomy of a filmThe Theatre of the Absurd, or Theater of the Absurd (French: "Le Théâtre de l'Absurde") is a designation for particular plays written by a number of primarily European playwrights in the late 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s. The 'Theatre of the Absurd' is thought to have its origins in Dadaism, nonsense poetry and avant-garde art of the 1910s – ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-71709056421797453722007-06-22T13:57:00.000-07:002009-10-08T10:06:28.380-07:00Not a poem for sureMy fellow country-men,I might sound absurdWhen I wonder where my home isI might sound sickWhen I ask myself: Has ever mum enjoyed her womanhood?I might seem crazyWhen I dream of floating above my bodyI might sound infidel to fateWhen I Only think about earth and nothing above itGrapes are drying on the branchWhile I'm thinking about wineI go crazy Every time she knocks on my ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-15203553901594671182007-05-15T14:01:00.000-07:002009-10-08T10:01:29.419-07:00The existence of a specie; from flesh to textBehind the red traffic light, I was looking at the crossing traffic light, the green one. I was anxious to get to wherever I was supposed to. I'd been behind this traffic light hundreds of times, so I could anticipate when it was going to change to yellow and eventually to red, a red that could change my red to a green; a green to go: - Five come on, ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1175540445166432182007-04-02T11:53:00.000-07:002009-10-08T09:54:57.264-07:00The dream of youThere is you and then there is the dream of you. Which one can I reach at any given moment? Just the dream I guess, and it lives here, day and night. Once in a while I feed it subconsciously, I take it for a walk; I open a window to it for fresh air.In the dream you are so vivid, so real that it rushes blood and adrenaline to my head, I get so happy, excited and very high. One ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1153845544238369952006-07-25T09:38:00.000-07:002009-10-08T09:48:07.939-07:00Reach me if you canI saw only a glimpse of it on TV this morning, I couldn't catch the title of the newspaper. On the front page of the paper there was this amazing symbolic sad picture of Condoleezza Rice and Lebanese prime minister Fouad Siniora, standing at two opposite sides of a conference table, stretching so hard to shake hands as if there is a huge distance between them.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1142362022556874442006-03-14T10:44:00.000-08:002006-03-16T12:52:32.226-08:00It’s a dirty lifeThe homeless man is walking around the smoking corner of a downtown tall building, full of smokers. Nobody cares what he’s doing, or they pretend to. He bends over, collects all the bottoms of cigarettes. I see him doing the same thing almost everyday. The first time I saw that I felt bad, because when I step on my cigarette to put it out, it's like I’m stepping on someone’s ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1142355807874436642006-03-14T09:02:00.000-08:002006-03-16T12:53:12.653-08:00The door and the wallsLast night I started a course in university to upgrade myself for next upcoming promotion. It turns out this course is in the same building as the other certificate course I took five years ago. Back then my marriage had already fell apart and my ex and I had decided to split. It was a difficult time for me. I was taking an expensive, difficult and very intense course – fiveماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1133762474267920042005-12-04T21:39:00.000-08:002009-10-08T09:42:17.020-07:00In poker, when two beautiful monstrous hands go head to head 'till the very last community card; the river, eventually if one loses to the other in a very good combination with community cards, like one hand makes a full house and the other makes a four of a kind, it's called bad beat. Like pair of aces lose to pair of tens. There are times and situations in life that I call them bad beat too. ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1125554215785254622005-08-31T22:25:00.000-07:002005-09-01T07:22:26.996-07:00Self off the shelfSleep deficit, confusion, raw emotions, pleasant surprises, unbearable occasional selfishness of the sexual partner and her unpleasant passiveness in many aspects and yet her craving for attention, and all don't leave any space for creativity and being with self. I've been away from myself and my thoughts and still feel lonely. Whatever it is, it's quite indefinable, not that I ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1115618018605453652005-05-08T22:37:00.000-07:002006-03-16T12:50:50.466-08:00ExileAbbas Milani an Iranian writer and an expert in history of Iran, in Lost wisdom: Rethinking modernity in Iran --a collection of essays, says Exile is when you live in one land and dream in another. When I was living back home in Iran, I had this sense of not belonging to that land for many reasons. I was dreaming in an imaginary land, and according to Milani's beautiful definition of exile, ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1113288955821546322005-04-11T23:51:00.000-07:002005-04-12T15:55:20.716-07:00Fear of a seasonTo Sping and her strong spiritShe is afraid, but who is not? Life can be scary and unpredictable, yet so beautiful and full of wonderful surprises. She is afraid of loss. But how can you be afraid of loss before even reaching out for a grasp?Spring is here or will she? I am happy and yet afraid, afraid of getting hurt and hurting. Being lonely is an easy path to choose. You don't ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1110158168333208692005-03-06T15:46:00.000-08:002006-09-08T14:42:46.180-07:00Historic burdensI rented Egoyan's Ararat last week and watched it yesterday. I wish Egoyan had made that film differently. I love Egoyan's works, especially The Calendar. In my opinion, The Calendar is Egoyan’s best work. He is a great writer and a great artist. But with Ararat, he stepped on a ground full of politics and historic arguments which is the biggest distraction for an artist from ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1103146336935397132004-12-15T13:23:00.000-08:002004-12-15T14:13:19.630-08:00Tie boys, specially the bowed ones
Sometimes when I take a smoke break, I go with couple of my colleagues to the back alley of the office building. One day two men were walking through the alley wearing expensive suites. One of the colleagues said it would be funny if we all dress up one day and come to work with suites and ties. I said sure, I'll wear a suit with a bow tie tomorrow. I always ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1101797936447426842004-11-29T22:00:00.000-08:002004-11-29T22:58:56.446-08:00Allow me!
Time is passing, I don't like my job, I hate my boss, the company I work for is getting richer and richer by sucking bloods and it's being run by some assholes who openly admit they are assholes. I just baby-stepped into my 35th and I feel so unaccomplished. And please don't try to imagine a faceless loser in your mind when you read "I feel so unaccomplished". For we should all know ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1100167145010820372004-11-11T00:24:00.000-08:002004-11-11T04:12:04.610-08:00Call me traitor
I am an immigrant, like many others here in Canada. Immigrants are involved with many issues and emotions in their first 3 to 5 years of new life -- I guess I am talking about average --. As an immigrant, first thing in your mind would be the barrier of language and consiquently the slowness of job finding process. If you are lucky you'll find a job within few months if not ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1099383538977327552004-11-02T00:53:00.000-08:002004-11-02T00:20:47.233-08:00Knock knock! Who is there?
Winter is coming. Things haven't been very well lately. Oh well! Life is a roller coaster, isn't it? I had the most amazing winter last year and it gave me sweetest memories of my life. Despite the fact that last winter became a memory or at its best a nostalgia, despite the fact that I am watching a spider walking upon my wall, life is going on. No matter how hard, itماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1097986567228229632004-10-16T20:44:00.000-07:002009-10-08T09:12:47.644-07:00I love NYI was in New York City for couple of days. It was good. I love the spirit of that town. Kinda harsh and not welcoming yet very appealing by its sophistication. I had a very long walk on my third day in there. I started walking from 42nd st. up to south side of Central Park and then walked in the park in random directions for 2 hours and then found myself out of the park in 73rd st. Then ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1096871213332847092004-10-03T22:30:00.000-07:002009-10-08T09:07:41.916-07:00Kids must have been watching the Casino.I was watching Scorses's Casino on Bravo (we are talking about the better Bravo, the Canadian Bravo, not the American one). Casino is rated. Do you know what I found so bizarre about Bravo last night? They were broadcasting kids' toy commercials. How sick is that? What were people in Bravo thinking? That there were kids out there to be targeted by Fisher ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1094539496702652422004-09-06T21:48:00.000-07:002009-10-08T09:04:48.787-07:00Give me a line! I want to get on it.Since internet and World[Wild]Web became a daily obsession for the young hungry portion of Iranian population, dating with opposite sex became easier than ever in that country unlike my time in 80s and early 90s. Once upon a time in those dark years of Hush! Don’t say I love you or I kill you!, I was walking my girl friend -- who became my wife later on and ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1089616771827611652004-07-11T23:44:00.000-07:002009-10-08T08:57:44.347-07:00patterns and patterns againWe've heard and read zillion times about patterns in relationships, patterns in break ups, patterns in finding the right ones and the wrong ones, yet most of us deny having our own patterns, while our lives flow into these patterns unconsciously and form the exact same shapes over and over. Three years ago, in my last break up I was way down for 3 months, all of a ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1089098511815985322004-07-05T23:34:00.000-07:002004-07-06T08:17:56.413-07:00Slices of nothing
Writing is a relief and thank the Edison of weblog who made writing so accessible to ordinary hands. I am saying writing is a relief for me, because in times like this, when there is no one around to hear you yak without analyzing your words or be wise with you when unnecessary; or when your girl friend is not around or her mom is in town and you can't whisper things to her ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1087886928280370262004-06-21T23:32:00.000-07:002009-10-08T08:51:40.286-07:00Get high!It's been so long since my previous post. I am a total mess, I know that, you don't have to remind me that.I was reading this post in a weblog which is about - I'm just paraphrasing here- "having crush on someone and letting it go like a passive person, because you were waiting for the chrushee to step forward and ask you out, and since that never happened, the crush kinda expired and ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1079943326371201412004-03-22T00:15:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.292-07:00Does love work in a binary logic?
If it's only true or false, or if it takes only a yes or no, it's a binary logic. Like job status, you are either employed or not. Now, does that logic work for love? Can you say you are either in love or not? Can you say your love has drifted apart or not? Are there absolute sings about these things or not? Even in surest times, you tell yourself or your lover,ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1079509878672543052004-03-16T23:51:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.311-07:00Is it O.V.E.R.?
I've been missing most of the episodes of final season of Sex and the City, why? Well, good question, but let's leave that for another post.
Last Friday night I was watching the very episode that Carry got invited to live in Paris by her b/f -- for those of you who may say hey buddy you are way behind the schedule; up here in Canada, Sex & the City is aired a season behind the ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1078991691901943812004-03-10T23:54:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.323-07:00Someone was telling me about how his father has cheated on his mother at the age of 63, that he's been having affair with an older woman. He was saying that whenever I saw these things in movies or on TV never got a serious understaning of the situation, but now that I am in it, it feels so bad, you feel that you hate your father with all your guts. He wasn't able to understand how could someone ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1075059078056043832004-01-25T11:31:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.327-07:00Sinfully committed, Saintly embarrassed
I was sitting behind the wheel on a Friday evening after an exhausting and disappointing week; waiting for a green light to begin my weekend, instead, I was stuck behind one of those giant Envoy SUVs which block your whole view of the world. It was already getting on my nerve. In times like this I play my silly childish game, making words with random ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1073553083334906922004-01-08T01:11:00.000-08:002007-04-09T22:18:30.796-07:00Locked in/Locked out"She is considering moving to another town, a place far away from here," a mutual friend said. I felt some sort of weakness in my legs, for few seconds my legs began shaking but I managed to hide my anxiety. At the time I liked Lilac a lot, but no one knew about it, not even that mutual friend. Despite that weakness and those shaking legs, I didn't realize what world I was ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1070605277387441392003-12-04T22:21:00.000-08:002006-03-22T08:55:11.620-08:00Wholesome or nothing"So, are you coming to the party with your better half?" The guy asks me at work, while he is pouring coffee for himself. "Better half"I thought to myself. Are our love partners really our better halves? Do we believe in this urban mythology, that we are species in halves and need to be completed thus we look for our other halves? I don't. I never looked out there for any bodyماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1068703128019426902003-11-12T21:58:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.342-07:00I have a young friend. I exchange emails with her here and there, and it started when she needed to talk to someone not from her generation and not judgmental. A couple of days ago I replied her email like this:
Asking me about my life? Well, nothing's changed really and it aint happening, because I don't want it to, I guess I am afraid, I am afraid of ruining this beauty. There is this ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1066111952738945382003-10-13T23:12:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.347-07:00Simply complicated
Could you hold me for a moment,
'cause I am falling,
'cause I am cold,
'cause I am scared.
How does it happen? How do we fall in love? Do we jump into it intentionally? What do I know about you other than your pretty pretty face; the smell of your hair, the enchanting smile of yours or your magnetic eyes. I know nothing about you. I don't know what is your favorite color, ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-1066109363902860142003-10-13T22:29:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.352-07:00I am back
It's been so long since last time I wrote in here. I missed it here very much but there was not enough motivation to be here; just like anywhere else, I feel like I haven't been anywhere in last three months. Anyway I am back and I am glad for it.
Things have changed, specially in last few days. I am so exhausted, sleepless and preoccupied. It feels kind of num and good in a way but Iماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-956536872003-06-13T22:45:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.360-07:00A fine episode of Frasier
I was watching a rerun episode of Frasier. In that episode, Frasier becomes frustrated with his love life. Then he hits the road to think through his situation and he ends up arguing in his mind with some of his lovers from past and his first love: his mother. And through these arguments, he notices that he is alone because he is afraid of being alone. He keeps pushing ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-956206142003-06-12T23:55:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.372-07:00I could see this day was coming,
but not this soon. During G.W. Bush's day and night rants on fictitious subject of Iraqi weapons of mass-destruction and way before the recent war, through some media propaganda (today's most powerful urban mind distracter) particularly American ones and most particularly CNN, I predicted that after Iraq the gang of White House will go after Iran (if they be ableماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-949771302003-05-27T23:15:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.382-07:00Choices we have
I was watching Matrix, Reloaded. It was quite a movie, definitely a good one in Sci-Fi genre, because it's one of few movies that could drag me to the theatre; I don't like most Sci-Fi movies. There were some lines about choice in the movie said by the architect of the Matrix, the guy with white beard and the look of a wizard on his face (I don't know why but he reminded me ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-938404512003-05-05T20:00:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.396-07:00Virtual voices
I've been participating in a group project called Virtual narrators. It is a kind of polyphonic ensemble. We all virtual narrators write in Farsi and the goal is to write a novel without a linear direction of a story or any direction or story at all. There is no rule how to write or what to write; something between democracy and anarchy. I am Iranian, born in a country full of ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-933012032003-04-26T09:36:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.408-07:00Should we speak out or not?
I've been in situations that I speak out my mind and once the words are out there, I regret the hell out of my brain. Oh god! Why did I say that? Shit! Damn it! etcetra etcetra. In those moments I think to myself honesty is just too much for people. I am not going to speak out my brain like this again. The world doesn't deserve the truth. blah blah bloody blah. And I ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-925460902003-04-13T15:39:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.423-07:00Moore guts
It takes a lot Moore guts to criticize your own people using a broad range media such as cinema and it takes even Moore guts to go on to a victorious Oscar stage and instead of "yakking a bunch of names" and "thanking the whole world that made this happened" kinda crap, condemn your president and question the legitimacy of his position and his administration's decision. Even the 400 ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-922033132003-04-07T22:46:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.435-07:00After all this long period of uncertainties in my personal life, I get a bit of peace of mind, but the world is on fire and how one could enjoy this personal moment. The war, S.A.R.S. and the economy. It's like chaos is finding its routine to happen on a regular basis. When was the last time that human beings had peace of mind in this planet, ever, at all? Is chaos and confusion nature of man ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-904440272003-03-09T23:34:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.439-07:00Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda?
Past, Present, Phuture?
I wish I could reach to the pure detachment of time; detachment of places and people from past or present. How can we live each moment as brand new as it happens? It seems almost impossible. When I go back to a place that I've built up towers of memories in there, I miss the moment that I am in, the very present time, the very present moment that ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-893539342003-02-18T21:02:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.483-07:00Is history a bastard or what?
It's been said recently that Iran's western borders will be the biggest refuge camp for Iraqis in case of any US military action against Iraq. It hasn't been a long time for all of us to forget the war between two neighbors, Iran and Iraq in 1980s. How weird is that a once enemy-land could turn to a safety zone? Is it history that lies to us or the reality while ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-884203012003-02-02T05:25:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.505-07:00First Sex and the Second Cup
In a cold cold day of January in Toronto, I walked into one of those fancy looking branches of The Second Cup, the chain coffee shop. I was looking for a second shift job; thank Air Canada's Mr. Milton who ruined canadian airline industry and put thousands of skilled workers out of job. I asked for the manager immediately. She was so busy with running this money ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-846475302002-11-16T20:50:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.529-07:00People and places
I wonder if there is a magic in the spirit of places, streets or cities, some grow deep roots in people's soles. What is this magic? Does it come from the solid constructed soil and sand, the metals and the shiny glassy walls? Or it comes from us; human beings and the events that take place there?
I am standing in a corner, in Washington square, NYC; watching the crowd, it ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-843452752002-11-10T20:25:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.548-07:00My new homeland, my former enemy's friend.
It is ironic few weeks after I received my Canadian citizenship and I relocated to Montréal/Quebec I saw this documentary about Gerald Bull on CBC's Fifth estate. I found his finger prints all over my nightmares back in a big slice of my and many others' lives:
If and when arms inspectors return to Iraq, they will be on the lookout for all kinds of ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-841456492002-11-06T17:22:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.558-07:00The truth is...
Now that Bush's party has taken over all the three power spots, god knows how far he's gonna go with his aggression. Now he has all the supports and he is gonna monkey around more and more. It's ironic that many Americans indicate that Bush is not that nation's actual choice (I remember watching a debate on BBC channel weeks ago, when Michael Moore was asked about Bush's foreign ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-837251512002-10-29T09:30:00.000-08:002010-05-12T06:30:06.563-07:00The Black Crow is gone!
He was a blogger, Iranian, 33. He was living in London, Britain. His real name was Kassra Movahhed. He was an interactive multimedia expert.I didn't know him before the news. I read about him here and there. He committed suicide in his apartment. This was his fourth attempt. I don't know what to say. I didn't know him but still feel quite shocked. Some say he was one of ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-831216742002-10-17T08:49:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.568-07:00Meep up! How damn it?
This is the second time that I go to the bloggers meeting, arranged by Meetup.com and I can't find anyone. I hate it when it happens.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-830660882002-10-16T08:47:00.000-07:002009-10-07T15:54:59.563-07:00Too close in factA glass of Noir in your handOn its dark rouge surfaceTwo green moonsBlazing out a secret.How deep should I dive in,To capture the secret?ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-827769402002-10-09T21:56:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.581-07:00I have a good friend who is a translator from English to Farsi. His name is Ahmad. He has quite a varied translations from Lorca and Neruda to Anton Chekhov, even very contemporaries like James Finn Garner. Mr. Garner has a very funny story about Ahmad's translation of his book Politically Correct Bedtime Stories. Check it out.ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-819259122002-09-21T14:21:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.592-07:00:: Iranians mostly are medium dark skin colour, with brown eyes and brown hair, but at the same time there is a variety of physical appreance, like green/blue eyes, blonde/red hair, very bright skin (moonlightish), tall, short, hairy, bald, bushy eyebrows, big noses, acceding small noses and et cetera. With this variety of looks, when you as an Iranian live in abroad it is not easy to recognize ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-818084212002-09-18T22:09:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.600-07:00Meet up!
I was so excited about Blog meeting, a combo of bloggers and montrealers, the best thing that could happen at this deadly quiet slice of my life.
I went there, the Second cup @ 1551 St. Denis, I entered, most of the tables were taken by loners, reading or hiding their loneliness, there was one table occupied by three young deaf people, communicating with their own language, which was ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-815385562002-09-12T20:59:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.615-07:00Why? Why? Why American politicians don't learn from the history? Another war? Another invasion, regime change? Is this a vicious circle? The big nose of American foreign policy and in response more violence from barbaric fenaticism and again and again and again. I am sick of both sides. I just hate two things, religious and power of politicians, but never could ignor'em. They have been ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755605.post-811217072002-09-03T20:01:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:30:06.632-07:00This is my first post of this blog. I mostly write in my Farsi blog. English is my second language. The bad news is things here occationally may not make sense, but the good news is we can blame it all on my english, even if it's me who doesn't make sense. (like this!!! I don't know what the hell I'm trying to say.)
I hope I can catch and cut good slices of life and write them down here everyday,ماه مِیhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05590469873961649455noreply@blogger.com0