6.29.2002

tom hanks.

6.28.2002

current song in my head:

"she loves me not" by papa roach
it all makes me feel safe

the food that she chases me with
the piece of fruit
the dark fragrant tea with rock candy

the milk in the fridge in the morning
(he gets up early and walks to the grocery store
before he goes to work
so we can have milk for our coffee when we get up)

the reassurance of dinner for three
the importance of not taking advil for pain
the vitamins, the medicine cabinet

(the first thing she does in the morning
is to feed the birds in the balcony
we don’t move when they arrive
we just watch them eat and sip our coffee
with sugar and milk)
time stops for a few minutes
troubles cease

then again there is the loan
and the lease
and the bills

and the fact that “everyone’s doing ok except for us,
only if we moved from this house”

he takes long walks

we take life in one day at a time
i’m just happy with the sound:
the flap of the wings of mourning doves

we are strangers and yet so much a part of this earth
this apartment
these rooms
and the greens that surround us and house the birds

the safety of a leaf
the safety of a branch
the safety of a home
the safety of remaining in one place

and the smell of caramelized onions
the headaches to follow
the early evening outings
the suitcases under the beds
the storage space

bring it all together

the boxes of books
the new heriz rug
(they say vegetables are good)
the love of rice
the taste if turmeric
the american music
the scarce exchange of words
the lack of noise

like a safety deposit box
with a second key
tucked away in the corner
only apparent when pointed out to the bank clerk

6.25.2002

among mini-joys of life:

receiving you monthly magazine subscription in the mail.

6.24.2002

what the hell???!!!

6.21.2002

cherA mardom zabooneshoon saree tar az maghzeshoon kAr mikoneh??!!!
ok... bAsheh... digeh raftam...
we should had gone into that firearms shop in the middle of nowhere on our way from reno to tahoe... the things i could write about that...
oh btw... i forgot...

this happened yesterday:

him: ino beh man nazan, zanoonas!
me: ino beh man nazan, zanoonas... ino beh man nazan, zanoonas... i have to write that in my weblog...
that wasn't meant to be a poem... jesus... it almost rhymed... how dramatic!
don't have much to say... actually don't have much to say most of the time... i was just excited for the past few days and that's why i spilled so much... now it's dry season again... i'm sure it will flow again here and there... just had to bring this to ur attention for now... never heard of him... don't know who he is... never seen his work... but i love it... so vibrant and real... so... LARGE... glad he made it... i saw the martin lawrence galleries ad for his exhibit in the paper... and just had to share...

6.20.2002

i want to grow an afro and play drums
i want to live like a mexican
i want to change oil every 5000 miles instead of 3000
i want to go to mass
i want to sing out loud
i want to be late on my credit card payment

oh who cares... hoseleh nadAram...

6.19.2002

my favorite writer of all time: raymond carver

recommended readings: cathedral, feathers, what we talk about when we talk about love
oh... to make it even worse... i have a few phobias:

1. spiders (normal phobia)
2. self-cleaning ovens (abnormal phobia)
3. imax screens (very abnormal phobia)
i'm so sick... i had to mess with the dotted lines to get them to line up with the text... so i posted the last post like 4 times... mc gooz will know what i mean!!! (it probably won't show up the same on everyone's monitors anyway... damn)
how appropriate... do u guys remember this?

.................................................................
Don't Give Up (Peter Gabriel with Kate Bush)

In this proud land we grew up strong
We were wanted all along
I was taught to fight
Taught to win
I never thought I could fail

No fight left or so it seems
I am a man whose dreams have all deserted
I've changed my face
I've changed my name
But no one wants you when you lose

Don't give up
'Cause you have friends
Don't give up
You're not beaten yet
Don't give up
I know you can make it good

Though I saw it all around
Never thought that I could be affected
Thought that we'd be the last to go
It is so strange the way things turn

Drove the night toward my home
The place that I was born, on the lakeside
As daylight broke, I saw the earth
The trees had burned down to the ground

Don't give up
You still have us
Don't give up
We don't need much of anything
Don't give up
'Cause somewhere there's a place where we belong

Rest your head
You worry too much
It's going to be alright
When times get rough
You can fall back on us
Don't give up
Please don't give up

Got to walk out of here
I can't take anymore
Going to stand on that bridge
Keep my eyes down below
Whatever may come
And whatever may go
That river's flowing
That river's flowing

Moved on to another town
Tried hard to settle down
For every job, so many men
So many men no-one needs

Don't give up
'Cause you have friends
Don't give up
You're not the only one
Don't give up
No reason to be ashamed
Don't give up
You still have us
Don't give up now
We're proud of who you are
Don't give up
You know it's never been easy
Don't give up
'Cause I believe there's a place
There's a place where we belong
..............................................

to pink first and everyone else who knows what it means/how it feels...
btw... for all who have ugly characters commenting on their page, read this...
on the verge of a new life... it's apparent... i can sense it... things are rapidly changing... the address book is shrinking... much like the tolerance... no longer a care for the mass of people to validate or reaffirm... who cares if i'm goofy? who cares if people think i'm shallow? or deep? slowly becoming... kafka has arrived... morphing... finally... pain has lessened... life's accepted... no care to drive for hours or write pages and pages... the emotions are not as deep and significant... love is not the answer to everything... titles are not important... neither are brands... no care if the purpose differs from everyone else's... watching sitcoms and birds is good... being opinionated is good... not compromising is good... speaking the mind is good... counting friends on one hand's fingers is good... all these years of observing in silence and having rights stepped on has paid off... broken free... i'm free... free of obligations... free of empty promises... free of overwhelming feelings... simple things are good... i'm content... i'm ok... finally i'm ok... now i can survive... now i can breathe...

am i alive?

6.18.2002

i want to be a rock star
i want to photograph beautiful people with flawless skins and good taste
i want to sit in a store with cats and dogs and feed them BBQ flavored jerky and potato bones
i want to roam around in a law school and look at the crimson-lip goddess that turns heads
i want to eat chopped liver and butter and whole milk
i want to be thin and wear leather pants and tiny tees
i want to be careless
i want to respond to personal ads
i want that girl to stop thinking every 25 year old wants to get married and live in a big house
i want my boss to rightfully pay me and drink starbucks coffee intead of pete's
i want to smell exotic soaps at the mall and wear sample perfumes
i want the telemarketer to stop calling
i want to be left alone
i want to be picked up for a night on the town and a dinner of fried oysters and beer
i want to share a big house with many and have fights over the dishes in the sink
now he's sitting somewhere far away
waiting for his time to come
waiting to be taken
to some unidentified place
where he wakes up early in the morning
to make his bed
and eat morsels of food
with his hand

she doesn't have much to say
most of the time
except for when she's happy
or high
or drunk
she doesn't think she's accomplished much
cause she doesn't have a kid
or a husband
or a house

6.17.2002

you've got to read this!!! hilarious! :-)
Akheh chejoori bazeehA mitoonan inghad ahmagh bAshan???????
this is how i feel at times, especially now:

Sometimes
I wish I was brave
I wish I was stronger
I wish I could feel no pain
I wish I was young
I wish I would try
I wish I was honest
I wish I was you not I

'Cause
I feel so mad
I feel so angry
I feel so callous
So lost, confused again
I feel so cheap
So used, unfaithful
Let's start over
Let's start over

Sometimes
I wish I was smart
I wish I made cures for
How people are
I wish I had power
I wish I could leave
I wish I could change the world
For you and me

'Cause
I feel so mad
I feel so angry
I feel so callous
So lost, confused again
I feel so cheap
So used, unfaithful
Let's start over
Let's start over

u gotta here the song to know what i mean...

(band: boxcar racer, song: i feel so)

6.16.2002

i wasn't really sure what i was gonna write here... but i guess things come up afterall... a little bit earlier i was so pissed off cause i had read some nasty comments to the writer of a weblog (pinkfloydish)... one of my favorite logs... i was so angry i was shaking... u know i always struggle with the idea of going to iran... like moving there permanently and do something useful for the country... but then again i come across these stories and attitudes that make me change my mind... the comments to pink were totally uncalled for and could only come from the mind of a fanatic idiot... i don't even know whether it was real or not but it was enough to freak me out for one... how would i know? i have been away for 16 years and not familiar with how things are over there... how someone can make comments like that is way beyond my comprehension... how can that even be justified? why is it wrong if someone writes about their day to day experiences? i, among many other, seem to take pleasure... so how can someone be so extreme??? i don't know... but i'm pissed and i have no idea what i would do if i confront something like that after being absolutely free for 16 years... i hate it when people say that freedom in the states is superficial... come on... at least i can write in a public weblog with peace of mind knowing that even if someone messes with me it's only for fun and games...

6.14.2002

ground control to major tom...