the worst year of my life

I'm in iran now. I've only got about 20 days left here. Been here since june 11th. It's been a long time. So much has happened to me in the last two months. I've grown up a bit. I had to choose lovers.

I had him for a long time, the first few months i had him he was golden and he had a godly charm. Like it was destiny, like all the little signs would come to me just proving again and again that i could be in love with this person for the rest of my life. Life was beautiful when new love was in my eyes. But then in those cold months,january,febuary, and part of march, i never heard from him. Not much of "i love you" not much of "fadat besham" i never heard "take care-yourself" and so i tried to hold on. To keep from going crazy, or maybe i did go crazy, i used a few men to pacify my loneliness. They were all trash, i lied when i said "i love you" but there was one. One who i liked, who would stay, who had some significance. Later i would find out this one was more like a parasite with a serpent-like charm, rather than a side lover.

The cloudiness of my loneliness tarnished my golden lover, and my false side lover only did more to cover my eyes from seeing how i had the best all along.

i had the best all along. He is the best in the world. i still have the best, and i'm so happy that i threw all that trash away.

what have i come to?

What can you think/do when your house is breaking?

What can you think/do when your lover is so far away and you're sexually frustrated?

What can you think/do when the place where your happy and where you feel like you belong takes so much to get to?

What can you think/do when you realize you might not be strong enough to continue this life?


What can i think/do?

with the worst year of my life.

This beautiful body, with this weak soul.
This beautiful body, in harms way.
This precious mind, poisoned with abuse
This precious mind, with memories that hurt
This self, my self
These eyes, my eyes
These hands, my hands
They hurt, They're dirty

They have Done, They have Seen, They have Felt
mi dolor, darde man, my pain

me.

nothing but exams now.

monday, tuesday, and wednesday i have exams. Today was the last day of school where i go through my shedual. I'm a little depressed at what this year has given me;



almost nothing.

Testing my mobile blogger.....does it work?

my parents make me sedentary

I do believe that one day
I will be the type of person who doesn't touch their computer
In my world i am constantly sitting in front of a computer screen
Watching my life go by from the window behind me
I never get to go out,
I never get to drive when and where i want,
I have no freedom
And for that i hate computers,
I hate blogging,
I hate chatting,
I hate texting, and
I hate the sound of keyboards and mouses
Clicking and tapping
I hate all of it
For not being real
I want to Leave,
I want to get OUT of this place
Instead of typing with people and
Learning things through a screen,
I wish to have the real thing
I wish to finally be with my friends,
To finally see things up close and
Learn everything with experience,
I want to finally touch my lover
For the first time
I want to hold his hand,
Not this fucking mouse.
I want to look
Into peoples eyes,
Not at the pixelated letters and
Images that hurt my mine
I want to walk with a friend,
Not to the bathroom or kitchen
I want to feel the sun,
Not the stiff air in this house
I want to feel alive,
And not so sedentary
As soon as they let go of me;
As soon as they turn their heads;
As soon as they become tired;
I'll be gone,
I'll be out,
I'll be traveling,
My legs will be moving,
My eyes will be gazing,
My hands will feel every sense,
I'll talk to everyone,
I'll sleep with everyone,
I'll go out with with everyone,
Everyone who i could never talk to before,
Everyone who i was interested in,
Everyone who i was curious about,
Everyone who i saw

I WILL ;

I'll have my freedom in the hot sun one day and
I'll be driving a car on some road some where in the world

With my Lover by my side.

enough.

Philosophic self

Recently a friend of mine told me that they were listening to my old songs. A year ago i wrote many songs with my guitar and the release of my thoughts and emotions. He was in shock when i told him that i haven't touched my guitar since November. I was a bit surprised too. So i pondered at this for a moment and thought about what was keeping me from playing guitar. I thought about what made me play guitar so much last year. It was my emotions, how i felt. At that it clicked in my head. I have been writing and making art all this year, and those have been the outlet of my emotions. And i had an idea; one person, an artist, only has so much creativity that he can only produce one thing of one category with that energy of his emotions. So what i'm saying is that the emotional energy that people have can only be spent on one of the things they do. I have three main talents. Creating and singing music, writing stories or essays, and creating visual art. To me writing i feel is the easiest of the three since it's directly describing and telling the reader about my thoughts. Art is easier, since it creates the image of my emotions and also may have a story behind it. Music more is difficult. I dont have the patientce and disipline to sit with my guitar and pluck a few strings to wait hours before i find a beautiful and catchy chord. Then i have to write what i'm thinking, then i have to make the words sound good with the cuts and goes of the chords; i have to multitast, which has always been challenging to me in my life. And by the time i reach my guitar after writing about my life and drawing and painting beautiful pictures if my thoughts and memories, there's nothing left.

It leaves me quite burnt out. like now.

what i've been working on

this is my first painting. I put up a sketch a few weeks ago. Yea, i'm still working on it. It's taking me too long. need to finish it this week and start working on the SECOND PROJECT.

The Right to Cry



Manna



I don't feel like writing that much now, all my creativity has drained out all over this painting.