2.25.2003

17 years ago I left my home
17 years ago I was innocent
17 years ago I would willingly wake up at 4:30 AM to work at McDonalds across the street for $3.25/hour
17 years ago I bought a sweater and a skirt with my first paycheck and wore it to school and some guy told me in english that I had big calves
17 years ago I wanted to become someoneĆ¢€¦ ANYone
17 years ago life was fresh and new and we started all over again
17 years ago we didn't have furniture and slept in sleeping bags
17 years ago I didn't realized how much my dad had to work to make a new kind of living
17 years ago I thought I had found heaven and MTV
17 years ago I loved and trusted people
17 years ago I hadn't been cheated on or lied to
17 years ago I was not prejudiced or judgmental
17 years ago I learned how to drive in a red 1984 Nissan Sentra
17 years ago life was pure and transparent
17 years ago my hair was big and so were my earrings and my heart
17 years ago everyone thought that my english was good "considering"
17 years ago I would get a tan without being afraid of harmful rays
17 years ago life was full of opportunities and surprises
17 years ago I didn't know that it would be 17 years before I would search again
17 years ago everything was as simple as soup
17 years ago I was younger
17 years ago I was not as jaded

2.23.2003

the book to read is "orchid thief"

2.20.2003

for all of u who couldn't read habib's post, here's the enlightening translation:

I'm all fucked up.
I'm all fucked up.
I'M-----FUCKED-----UP.
I have no money.
I have no home.
I don't enjoy whores.
I have lost a lot of things.
I'm lazy.
I don't have a thing to say.
Nothing turns me on.
People are ridiculous to me.
I'm ridiculous to me.
I'm not waiting for anything.
I've fallen into the everyday routine.
My days are the absurdity in between two nights.
My nights are nightmare-free.
I have no hopes.
I talk about the ugliness of lies with utmost confidence.
I'm a liar.
I can't sleep when I want to.
When I wanna get up there's a heavy load on me.
I don't care about anything.
I hate it that nobody cares about anything.
I yell out slogans.
I write a weblog.
I'm empty.
I have a talent for hiding ditches with branches and leaves.
I'm bitter.
I'm anti-social.
I'm mean.
I'm quiet.
I fool myself with a thousand things.
I'm no good.
I hide behind a laughing mask.
I laugh at people who think I'm special.
I'm knowledgeable.
I read books to impress people when necessary.
I'm a real gentleman.
I save money every month to buy colognes.
I like attention.
I'm in love with a girl.
I've fucked all the women in our town in my dreams.
I like sex.
I need self-confidence.
I measure my dick everyday.
I betray.
I've had a lot of misfortune.
I've not accomplished what I was supposed to.
I hate ideologies.
I think wealth is filth.
I'm an atheist.
I'm post-modern.
I'm all fucked up.
I'm all fucked up.
I'm all fucked up.

If you're like me, don't worry. Majority rules. Besides, life's suckier than all this.

If you're not like me, then you're abnormal; just e-mail me so I can de-virginize you. Besides, fuck you for not being content with this world and all its glory.
so if u were forced to collect something, what would it be?!
when i was a kid, i used to love chewing on/eating erasers!

not all kinds of erasers though... not the kind at the end of pencils... but the soft kind... the ones that leave long ropes of white/gray erasery material behind when u erase something... that kind... they taste so good... i wouldn't mind chewing on/eating some right now!

2.19.2003

losing ur independence and going downhill is not easy
living with ur parents at the age of 33 is not easy
being the glue that keeps ur parents together is not easy
listening to their advice when u know what is right is not easy
having them judge u day after day is not easy
being the son of the house all ur life is not easy
keeping ur strength no matter what is not easy
working all ur life to keep ur pride is not easy
ur friends siding with ur parents is not easy
feeling helpless and out of control is not easy
having no support and no one to count on is not easy
losing ur dreams amidst the everyday life is not easy
feeling like it's too late to pursue ur dreams is not easy
having no role model anymore is not easy
having no obsession or passion is not easy
selling out is not easy
letting go is not easy

sometimes u have no choice but to go along with the not so easy stuff

2.16.2003

:-(((

i just learned this

my sympathies to all "mahalleyeh behdAsht" fans... he was such a talented soul... may he rest in peace...
hey! remember avocado?!

2.15.2003

does anyone have a solution for the archives problem?!
so the dilemma in translating habib's musings into english (of course with his permission: habib, may i translate ur piece and post it on my blog?!) is this: what the hell does "oghdeyee" translate to in english?!!!!!

2.13.2003

"Kiss me like you've been looking for me in the dark. She whispered."

read it on this page... scroll down and look for "a story, written from my teenage self"
"WORDS suck. I mean, everything has been said. I cant remember the last real interesting conversation ive had in a long time. WORDS aren't as important as the energy derived from music, especially live. I don't think ive ever gotten any good descriptions from lyric sheets, except WHITE ZOMBIE whos lyrics remind me that theres only so many words in the English language, and most good imagery has been used, as well as good band names, LP titles and not to mention the bloody music itself."

"
--I am threatened by ridicule
--I am overly concience of the sincerity in my voice.
--I like to have sex with people
--I love my parents yet I disagree with merely everything they stand for.
--I understand and appreciate the value of religion for others.
--My emotions are affected by music.
--punk rock means freedom
--I use bits and pieces of others personalities to form my own.
"

i found out from pondoria that kurt cobain's journals were recently published... so i ordered it the other day and got it on tuesday and then stayed up til 3:00 am and read about 90% of it and then thought about it all day yesterday...

i think everybody should read it... at least those who are nirvana fans... to see how a vital energetic self conscious little boy turned into "hard cement" as he called it... some parts made my cry... seriously... some parts disturbed me... there were a few lines that i can't even write about... some disturbing imagery... i'm sure everyone has dark corners in their minds... it only takes a publish of a journal for others to find out...

the handsome, loved, sought after, rock idol, sexy kurt cobain considered himself to be "anorexic thin and stupid"... he repeated many times in his journals that he hates himself and wants to die... he suffered from stomach pains for most of his life... he loved music most of the time... sometimes he was uninspired and didn't see the point like the rest of us...

it was amazing how much i related to his journals... they were human... full of human emotions and in the beginning full of dreams... and then with fame it all went to shit...

at one point he talks about his kid and how he's afraid of car rides cause he's afraid of getting into an accident with the kid in the car... how his kid is his life and even if things go bad with courtney he would always want to support the child...

it goes on and on... i just couldn't stop... if he was alive he would probably say: "FUCK YOU! who are u to read my journals and judge me???"... that's exactly what he would had said... since he said it when some of his journals were stolen from him during trips and he felt so raped... and yet they still published his journals...

btw... the book is all digital images of his journals, so everything is in his own handwriting... definitely worth the investment if u're into music...

anyway... signing off...

2.11.2003

do u remember safarhAyeh hAmi va kAmi?!!!
this

2.10.2003

something i wrote back in 1995:

don't eat, watch ur weight
watch ur fat intake

don't drink, don't get drunk
don't act like a fool
don't fall in love
u may get hurt

don't go out
don't come home late
be scared of the dark
where the stalkers hide

don't drive too fast
don't sleep til late
wear clothes appropriate to ur age

don't talk to strangers
don't call anyone late
don't wear revealing underwear

don't this
don't that
don't breathe
at least let me have this smoke with my coffee and enjoy the pleasure of nicotine and caffeine running in my "personal" veins.
so what the hell do u want me to say?
what do i do here other than complain about life and work all the time?
how many times should i repeat that life's become meaningless?
haven't u had enough?
aren't u bored?
don't u wish that people like me would just shut up for a change?
anyway...

70 days... and maybe things WILL change...
i want my god damn archives!
u know what's worse than feeling like ur dad has betrayed u?

feeling like u have betrayed ur dad.

2.06.2003

ha! someone else in the sunny bay area is also obsessed with birds and fashion and has the same dreams as i do... hey, if u want more aloof friends who act like 10 year olds let me know!!!

2.05.2003

75 days left...


i had a dream that i had arrive in iran for 4 days, staying at our old apartment on gaandi street, and none of the family members had even contacted me to see me...