my thoughts. sometimes personal, often too personal.
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she didn’t know
Oct 24th
Once again, I cheated on you. For this, and all my previous sins, I’m sorry.
I really felt like writing the other day, and I did. Then I didn’t post it. I’m sorry.
I feel obligated to you, you being random statistics that I monitor. The number of visits, the number of hits…just numbers with no faces.
I also wrote the beginning of what could’ve been a very good post, but decided to post in Facebook instead. Again, I’m sorry.
This is what I wrote:
“When nobody’s watching…pencil and pen. Naked paper and the rest are just secrets. Pouring out, pain, fused with ink. Curves that shape words, describe years of sorrow. And the screams of the dead tree, eating me whole.“
I’m not sure where it came from, but it did.
I honestly believe that my life is officially on a faster pace. Days just go by. I wake up, I sleep, and I repeat. So weird, so fantastically weird.
Before writing today, I felt inspired, looks like I was wrong. I don’t know what was it that inspired me.
Let’s not force the issue here.
time will tell
Oct 4th
I smell like smoked turkey, and that’s cause I made one for dinner. I should take a shower and sleep, but I don’t wanna. Well, that’s not entirely accurate, I actually want to do that, but I don’t feel like it.
Tonight, I ate like a beast, and in around 6 hours, I gotta run 5K for CIBC Breast Cancer: Run For The Cure, should be fun! My ankle isn’t %100 yet, but I think I can run straight without problems. I’m gonna wrap it, just in case. I tried to do a little jerk move, just to see how it feels, wasn’t smart. It still hurts. Tomorrow looks to be rainy day, which isn’t good for a bad ankle. I’ll hope for the best, it’s for charity man, how much shit could happen to a dude who’s doing good? I guess we shall see.
I’ve been thinking about music lately, and it’s been interesting. First of all, I realized that I don’t know a single Moby fan. And that’s amazing, cause I consider myself a big fan of his music. He actually dropped by Toronto this week, and I really wanted to go, but couldn’t find anyone to come with me! If that’s not an indication to rethink my friendships, I don’t know what is. I also played a good 10 hours of The Beatles: Rockband. It was sweet. I like The Beatles, I like them a lot. So “playing” their songs with my fake guitar was superb. I don’t know what attracts me most about them, but I think it’s how simple and amazing they were. They didn’t try too hard, and just produced, album after album. Good for them.
Looks like sleep is looming in the corner, watching me, carefully calculating its plan in order to knock me the hell out. I’m gonna take a shower, cause I really can’t sleep while I smell like food.
Be safe.
bitter reminder
Sep 8th
One day I woke up, and words became more clear. Bright like the sun, I saw them all, shining, perfectly perfect.
One day I grew up, and it was a very sad day. The innocent escaped, all that was left was the bitter truth. The pessimistic view, the death of trust. I didn’t wear black, I knew it would happen, I always anticipated it, so when it did, I was ready.
And there are nights, where I feel bitter. Angry perhaps, demanding an explanation. I give a dirty look or five, frown, cringe my teeth, and ask the simplest of them all; “why?”.
I often miss it, it reminds me that I’m still here, awake, or perhaps not here, but somewhere very close. It assures me that it happened. And what follows is the joy of living.
It’s delicate, and fragile, balancing it all, finding the sweet spot, controlling, and letting go. Magic and make-believe…or maybe all is real. I try, I know I do. But isn’t always possible.
I get tired of making people see things from my point of view. And always having to defend my ideas. Always. “Why so defensive?” they all ask. I wonder how they would react.
Right now, as the clock is showing me a very nice 90 degree angle, I realized that all that I wrote needs my actual thoughts in order to make any sense. For that, I’m sorry. Sometimes you get the thoughts, sometimes it’s the director’s commentary. I imagine this post as a director’s commentary without the actual movie. Unfortunate, to say the least.
“sometimes i feel less than fresh”
Aug 29th
(I started writing this two weeks ago)
I don’t really have much to write about it.
Well, I always have something to say and write, but right now, as I’m sitting here, I don’t have a thought, nothing specific. I’ll just go on and ramble on whatever enters this brain of mine. Should be fun.
I was thinking that sometimes, you make a decision, and in your heart, you believe it to be the right thing to do, but later on you realize that you were wrong. In my case, it doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it really hurts. Mostly my ego, but it really hurts. I think when it comes to important decisions, you always have to “sleep on it”. Take a breath, stand back, and recalculate the outcome. I’m glad that I didn’t pull the trigger, cause shit would’ve been so much harder to deal with.
Sometimes, you plan something and it goes exactly as planned. Everything turns out the way you predicted, and it feels amazing. And some other times nothing works out…and by nothing I mean NOTHING. Those are the shitty days. I haven’t had many of those lately, which is good. *knocks on wood*
Summer is almost over, and I can’t recall how it even started. It’s pure bullshit how time really flies.
I gotta tone down my competitiveness. I should be able to turn it off, and I can’t. It’s getting a bit annoying. Even in sports, I should tone it down. I’ll work on it, I really will. I have managed to drive not only slower, but more law-abiding. It feels good, I really wanna stay away from more tickets. I’ve had enough.
The other day I got stuck in a shitty traffic and all of the sudden I “wrote” a short story in my head. I’ll write it down one day, but I really liked it. Not sure if you guys will, but personally, I thought it was very interesting. I like it when stories rush into my head. I get to watch them in my imagination as they unfold. It makes me feel like a little boy, listening to a great story. I almost never know how it’ll end.
Here’s a nice picture of Shiraz, candle light, bread, cheese, and what you can’t see is Shahram Nazeri singing his heart out.
I think it would be wise to stop posting pictures of wine in here, makes me look like an alcoholic!!
feeling poetic
Aug 5th
I’m feeling poetic, and I’m not even drunk. Although traces of a really fine wine is swimming inside my veins, all I can think is emptiness that one experiences while living on this dirty planet.
I’m listening to the type of music that even the artist knows that it sucks. The songs he hates, the songs studio pushed to be on the CD…ya, I’m listening to those tracks, and I hate them all. Why am I forcing this unpleasantness on myself? I really don’t know. I can think of a reason or two, but they all would be bullshit. I just want to listen to shitty music right now.
Last month was the most successful busiest month of this blog. The visits alone have doubled from the previous month, and I feel the pressure. I feel that now, I need to actually produce! Manufacture entertainment? Create “art”? I don’t know…
Speaking of “art”, I attended an art gallery that was intended for the recent violence in Iran. While it wasn’t bad, I couldn’t help but wonder how fucking fake everyone was. I just don’t understand it. I remember when artists were just like normal people, but a bit more talented. Lately anyone with a brush or a camera has this look, has this persona. I thought being an artist was about individuality, about expressing one’s inner soul on a paper or canvas. As I was walking around the gallery, I saw the same hats, same shoes, same “old school” glasses, same hair-cuts, same “lingo”…it really saddened me. It felt unnecessary.
