آی آدم ها، دور شین. ترکیدم. 

و در ادامه، او نفهمید که تو فقط می خواهی حرف بزنی حتی دنبال راه حل نیستی. فقط می خواهی کسی بداند هر روز به چی فکر می کنی و باز هم حق می دهم بهش برای نفهمیدن. چون که وقتی حرف هایم شره می کنند، زمانی نیست برای صیقل دادنشان، درست بیان کردنشان. وقت نمی شود به موقع اشک بریزم و سکوت کنم و صدایم را بالا و پایین ببرم. فقط کلمات از دهانم سرازیر می شوند و او نمی بیند که از دورترین نقطه ی دلم می آیند. او فکر می کند این ها را برای خالی نبودن عریضه می گویم. 

That moment, that for probably the first time in your life you remove the filter between your thoughts and mouth while being completely sober, and you start relating your thoughts one after another, without having to explain them. She calls you weird. You sit down and continue like she hasn't said it because it's too late to stop talking. And then she says, please stop, I don't wanna listen to this, I don't want to talk about death, it's too touchy. 

She acts as if this is not you talking after two years, she seems to not know that she is the only person you ever gave up your masks for without the help of alcohol, and tells you to finish your essay. 

You say, but it's not about death it's about me. I thought you were fine with me talking about myself.

She pauses and says okay fine, we should talk about death because we never do. 

I get up and leave and she is relieved. She doesn't see how new this is for me, how I will crawl back to my room and never speak again after she cuts me off. Well, I can't blame her. 

On what I want to do with my life, and what I want to be doing right now, this is the most accurate explanation I can give:
“Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be.”
The Catcher in The Rye, J. D. Salinger

گوگل ریدر

از وقتی ریدردار شدم ، طبیعتن به وبلاگ ها و سایت ها سر نمی زنم و متن هایشان را(به غیر از شعر ها که  ساختارش به هم می ریزد) در محیط ریدر می خوانم. همه متن ها سیاه و  سفیدند، با یک فونت یکدست و با بند و بساط گوگل احاطه شده اند. اما متن خواندن در آن محیط های زرد و نارنجی و صورتی کمرنگ و آبی با عکس و گوشه نوشته های نویسنده گیراتر بود،  انگار حتی دامنه ی متن بیشتر بود و بیشتر در آدم رسوخ می کرد. 

شاید یکی از دلایل وبلاگ ننوشتن من این باشد که با خیال راحت نمی توانم  توی هر پست راجع به خودم حرف بزنم. ته همه ی درفت های منتشر نشده ام، از خواننده های نامرئی عذرخواهی می کنم که این قدر راجع به خودم حرف زدم. 

غم

امروز صبح یکهو به سرم زد که بروم دکتر. دیدم از صبح که بیدار شدم غمگینم بدون هیچ دلیلی، و بعد فکر کردم که من هیچ وقت نبود که واقعن غمگین نباشم. شاید یک روز، دو روز این جا و آن جا، اما همیشه غم داشتم و از خودم بدم می آمده. 

دلم می خواهد این طوری فکر کنم که این حالت طبیعی آدم ها نیست و یک هورمون من کمی جا به جا شده که با یک قرص می آید سر جایش و غمم تمام می شود. 

The Fountainhead

On page 100 now. I'm reading it because a friend suggested it. I would stop reading it right away if this friend had not suggested it. 

Book number one: The Most Beautiful Book in the world

Author: Eric-Emannuel Schmitt
Start at March 16th
Planning to finish it by March 25th
Why I chose it? I remember I had read good stories by the same writer before.
My mom recommended it.
I like the title.
The book includes eight short stories and short stories seem more appealing to me right now. Ever since I started reading in English, I check the number of pages a book has before I start to read it.  Thick books freak me out. The chances of me getting bored in the middle of the story multiplies as the number of pages increase.

Introduction

So, I haven't written in a while. And I haven't read a book in a while. And I haven't listened to a new piece of music in a while. Do you want to know what I've been up to? I was on Facebook the whole time. The stuff I read were people I barely know's post on other people I don't know's walls, and the comments that kept on going and going. I only watched videos that were shared more than once, or maybe the ones that the people I liked had shared, same with music. I laughed at 9gag and ژانر 's jokes. If something wasn't funny, or just didn't make sense in the first few seconds, I would just move to the next picture or post.

I'm sick of it. I feel like I come home every night to enter a world with blue borders, which I am an invisible member of, sometimes making a sound and watching everyone closely. The first thing I do after I wake up, come home, or somehow find access to internet every day is checking Facebook.

Right now I'm just mad at myself and sick and tired. Too tired to really understand and explain why Facebook is extracting the life out of me.

Well, anyway, I want to do a mission of de-facebookation.

Just so you know, I've tried to quit Facebook multiple times before. First with de-activation; when that didn't work (too extreme) I set time limits and counted the number of times I checked Facebook each day. None of them worked. So I gave up and decided that as long as I'm living in Norh America Facebook is incurable unless a shooting star landed on my head and changed my mentality in a way that I would be too good for wasting hours of my life stalking others on Internet.

But this time, I didn't start to think about quitting because of Facebook itself, but because I'm losing one of the most important things I ever had: my passion to read. I'm trying not to make it dramatic, and it's not, but it is crucial in my life.

I remember in summer of 2009 I made myself read Crime and Punishment from cover to cover. I barely remember anything from it now, and I didn't exactly enjoy it, but I remember when I was returning it to my father's shelves he said with a -my little daughter is so cute with a big book in her hands- smile: "It made you tired, huh?" and I almost bit my lips not to smile victoriously: "I read it."and I left the room. After that book, no book, well at least no Farsi book had scared me. After that, I started to read good novels and gained back my identity as a reader which I had lost in the years of puberty.

In case you hate me right now, I should say yes, I said it and I meant it: It is all about the identity or if I want to really be hard on myself, showing off with the books I have read. What am I without my books? I'm not a reader, and that's all I want to be. I want to introduce myself with the books I've read. This sounds disgusting(I didn't go in depth on how crappy it is, I leave that to your imagination: go for it, it's exactly that bad) but I have two reasons for wanting it.

First, it can't be worse than this situation. I believe this is as bad as my life could get, right? Running to my laptop all the time, and feeling relieved after opening Facebook. Let's not get into how bad this is, cause I failed in explaining it earlier in this post. But although my perspective of reading might sound superficial and shitty to you, it is an incredible change for the better in my current lifestyle.

Second, somewhere down there, I mean behind the Facebook crap that had grown on me, I believe that the light will eventually come if I start to read. That's all I can say for my second reason.

Now I can tell you that my mission is to start reading books and writing about them here. I don't know what I'll be reading yet, but I will figure it out once I start.

P.S.1

I will be writing in English. I am not as comfortable as I want to be with this language and I don't like what I write.  So please excuse my awkward sentences, grammatical mistakes and limited vocabulary. Reading and writing in this blog is going to enhance my poor English. And my poor English is not limited to making grammatical mistakes, it's more like I feel stupid, cheesy and unable to think while living in this language(I don't know if one could feel cheesy, but I do). Ok, now I will calm down and postpone my nagging to future posts.

P.S.2

I feel sick of how Facebook-influenced this post is.

P.S.3

I'm glad I started. :)