Unfinished.

Of all the words you could use to describe La Sagrada Familia is "unfinished." Why? Because on June 7, 1926, the architect Antoni Gaudi was run over by a bus.  And so, his greatest masterpiece would remain forever... Unfinished.

Gaudi, to his credit, never gave up on his dream, but that's not usually how it goes. I mean, usually, it isn't a speeding bus that keeps from getting built. Most of the time, it's just too difficult or too expensive, or too scary. It's only once you've stopped that you realize how hard it is to start again so you force yourself not to want it. But it's always there. And until you finish it, it will always be...

There is a little hope at the bottom of your heart. How you can kill that hope? how you can gave up? how?....

Thw sword and Mountains

I was light like a feather, hanging on a bamboo tree branch with a sword in hand. I saw a lake in front of me, as green as the forest, deep so that no one could guess how deep was it. I trembled, headed away from the lake, ran on the bamboo trees, I could hear the leaves sound under my feet. I ran faster, a little while later I felt safe, stood, everything was quiet. Enormous mountains stretched up to the sky. I thought about the mountaintop by all means, that mountaintop which was hidden behind clouds and was more beautiful and magnificent place in the world. I looked back and thought how far am I from the lake? The sword loosed in my hands but I took it with all my strength. My hands couldn’t take it anymore but that thing which fell wasn’t sword, was my teardrop. My heart crushed. I didn’t look at the mountaintop anymore, turned around and walked back slowly. I descended to the ground, the lake appeared, and I looked down to do not see it. I took the sword up, smooth, shiny and beautiful. I stood on a rock and went down the deep water. I couldn’t see the bottom but swam to the down. It was dark and got darker, after a while I couldn’t see anything just darkness until I touched the ground. I left the sword down with embarrassment. I came back from the darkness to the light, came out of water. I went to the mountains, this time without sword, my bare feet were muddy. I had a nostalgic feeling. I walked on branches but didn’t hear the sound of leaves. I reached there, climbed up huge rocks and precipices hardly, the acme was close, just a little higher. Then I made it, there was a stony road to a bridge. I ran till I reached the bridge, stand, I could see the most beautiful and magnificent place in the world. Felicity is here, eternity either. I must be happy but… my heart was wounded. Something that I lost in deep water was my soul, half of my heart and my past, it will never ever forget. The earth was lost in the fog.

I felt the heat, you were coming.

I asked: Do you remember the legend of the young man?

- A faithful heart makes wishes come true.

- Make a wish, Lo.

- We go back to the desert

My feet were off the ground. I threw myself down. I left your sad and wishful eyes there, in the most beautiful and magnificent place in the world, for… ever.

I love you

There are those who think that love comes with a lifetime guarantee,
But we know from those around us, that this may not always be,
It’s the simple things that come between a father and a son,
But when they try to talk, the knives are out before they have begun;

Well that was me, and I have seen the light that shines for eternity,
Because I learned to say the words “I love you;”

Bebin che ghalbhâyi shekastand, tooye daste roozegâr
Bebin cheshmhâyi ro ke gashtand, peye noori moondegâr
Az eshgho bâvar, bâyad ke âkhar, beshe labriz delâmoon
Ye roozi har jâ, por beshe donyâ az tanine sedâmoon

Pas biâ bâ har zaboon, to ham bekhoon, bekhoon âsheghoone kenâram
Faryâd bezan begoo:"Doostet dâram"

And this endless road that we are on just keeps on going round,
But there’s one destination that always is here to be found;

So come with me,
Bâ man biâ
and you will see
to ham bebin
The light that shines for eternity,
Be strong and learn to say the words “I love you,”
Faryâd bezan begoo:"Doostet dâram"
The words “I love you,”
"Doostet dâram"
The words “I love you,”

Every Action Has A Reaction..

Why we never believe? that "what goes around comes around"?
The truth is karma is always behind us! we never can run away from it! did you hurt someone in the past? well, you will see its reaction. You dont believe in god? that's ok cuz I'm not talking about god! I'm talking about the universe!
I dont like Justin Timberlake at all but we better believe this song. Have you heard it? good stuff!


Let me paint this picture for you, baby

You spend your nights alone
And he never comes home
And every time you call him
All you get's a busy tone
I heard you found out
That he's doing to you
What you did to me
Ain't that the way it goes

When you cheated girl
My heart bleed girl
So it goes without saying that you left me feeling hurt
Just a classic case
A scenario
Girl you got what you deserved

 What goes around, goes around, goes around
Comes all the way back around
What goes around, goes around, goes around
Comes all the way back around
What goes around, goes around, goes around
Comes all the way back around
What goes around, goes around, goes around
Comes all the way back around

I still don’t know what I can do with my corpse...

When I think about the day after my death, I see everyone happy and this is exactly what I like to happen. All my best friends gathered at my house. The songs of Amy Macdonald, my favorite singer is playing. Some of my friends are watching my photo albums and make fun of my nose and saying wish she was here and we could laugh together. Some of them are standing next to my bookcase, looking at the books and picking up what they like. Some picking up my flowers that I grew with love, a few are drinking and talking together, all happy… the smell of food coming from the kitchen and the sound of music and laughter goes out of the house...

This was about after my death but about my corpse, I don’t know what I can do with that! remains of a person who loses her previous feature without any specific cause and starts to disintegrate herself, like a robot that performs all orders without any thought, He walks, talks, moving objects and suddenly starting to destroy himself without understanding, but order is defined, he does that and doesn’t understand the destructive defect of his act even when he disappears.

For some reasons we are attached to our bodies and we don’t want it hurts. I’m sure I don’t like Muslim funeral with a heavy rock on my chest even if I don’t feel its weight. 

I do not like to be buried. It reminds me that video of Pink Floyd “hey you”, a thousand worms are wiggling on something. Although it may be hard to imagine the beauty of the funeral but you can imagine a woman with her white dress who is asleep like a bride and people are putting roses in the grave but why are you burying her??

A beautiful sunny day that kids plays and adults under their black clothes take a deep breath, or a rainy day that people stand under their umbrella and roses in the grave are floating in the water or even a snowy day that priest tries to finish funeral sooner to come back next to his fireplace… and a few hours after that corpse starts disintegration. Please do not open the coffin again, the view you will see is disgusting.

Zoroastrians leave corpse of dead people upside of mountain. They think the earth is holy and burying defiles that but what do you feel when you see fetid bodies, food of animals?

Scattering ash is very nice. Have you seen “Elizabeth town” movie? I like my family scatter my ashes in plowed field ready for planting to feel, in spring when green grasses appear I will reborn as a wheat. But burning body even after death would not be very interesting especially its sickening part, the smell of burned human meat in the air.

I can give my corpse for anatomy but I won’t of course when I have a cousin who is a student in Dentistry University and she likes to show me pictures of her anatomy class. Something black that can barely be detected this torn meat was a human body someday! This human now lives in a box, inside of stinky materials.

I can be food, a noble cannibal who before killing use anesthetic to do not feel the pain. Some pieces of my body will barbecue, the rest will end up in the freezer and some other will thrown in trash bin! Maybe he can use my hair as wig.

I have thought about another death, drowning in the ocean. My body will be floating for years. That’s very romantic. Imagine a sad fisherman standing in his boat and suddenly corpse of a pale woman in a torn dress passes him by. And of course this will happen if sharks don’t think I’m delicious!!!

I don’t have any other idea for destroying this almost useless piece of meat. What can I do with that?

Terrestrial Verses

Then the sun cooled
and fertility left the earth.

And vegetation withered in the fields
and the fish shriveled up in the oceans
and the earth
did not open its arm
to the dead.

Night stood in constant commotion
behind all the pale window-panes
like a dubious illusion
and the roads
lost their extension in the dark.

No one cared for love
no one cared for triumphs
and no one
ever cared for caring any more.

In caverns of loneliness
absurdity was born
blood reeked of bhang and opium
pregnant women
gave birth to headless infants
ad cradles for shame
buried themselves in graves.

What bitter black days!
bread had won over
the wonder of prophecy
hungry, helpless prophets
deserted divine havens
the lost lambs of Jesus
n longer heard their shepherd’s call.

In the eyes of mirrors
motion, color, and form
reflected in reverse
and a halo of holiness
glowed above the heads of uncouth clowns
around the shameless faces of whores
like a splendid canopy.

Swamps of alcohol
exuding dry, deadly gases
attracted to their lower depths
inert masses of intellectuals
while in antique cabinets.
pernicious rats gnawed
at the golden leaves of books.

The sun was dead
the sun was dead, and
in the minds of the children
tomorrow
was a half-lost, indeterminate concept,
in their notebooks
they marked
its quaint sense
with a big black blotch.

People
The fallen masses of people
heartsick, broken, stunned
dragged their ill-omened carcasses
from one alienation to another
and the will to kill
swelled in their hands.

Once in a while a spark, an infinitesimal spark
suddenly imploded
the silent stupor of their society,
they rushed at each other
daggers in hand, men
slit one another’s throats
and rolling in pools of blood
raped underage girls.

They were immersed in their fear
and a terrifying sense of sin
had stupefied
their blind, dull souls.

And in public hangings, often
as the hangmen’s rope
pushed out of its sockets
the bulging eyes of the condemned man
they sank inside themselves
And their tired old nerves felt alive
at some lusty sensation.

And yet you could always see
these little murderers
at the edge of the public square

Standing
and staring
at the continual downpour of water spray
from the fountain.

Perhaps still
some confused, half-alive something
lurked behind their emaciated eyes, deep in their frigid souls
which struggled feebly
to believe in the purity of the water’s words.

Perhaps—but what an endless void!
the sun was dead
and nobody knew
that the sad little dove
flown off from the hearts is called—faith.

Imprisoned voice!
will the glory of your despair
ever be a tunnel toward light
through the walls of this loathsome night?
Oh, imprisoned voice!
Oh, last of all voices…..