Sometimes, the things that you expect to be good, happen to be terrible, and on the other hand, the things that you run from, come to be good.

Like today's algorithm's design contest, which was truly fun ( at least for me ) though I was first so disgusted by watching my Thursday- which could have been passed with parents in Shomal- being wasted like this.

But let's not say tonight's party goes for the vice versa part. I always expect the parties to be bad, and they sometime even go further than what I had expected. It's not the host's fault nor any body else's, but maybe only mine. Don't know, sometimes it's only because of hearing the music selection that I detest and sometimes the terrible feeling of being left all alone though it's too crowded and apparently you've got a lot of friends around you. Maybe sometimes I feel afraid, of the loud music and the lights off, for several reasons that I know.

And this terrible experience of getting trapped by some lad whom you have never met and terribly disgust at least at this very first glance when he invites you to dance with. You know, the story of "cheraagh nafti" being repeated all over again.

Maybe last night's party would have been better, but I really could not have taken part because of the late time university class with Dr Rankohi ( Whom I adore, yes let's say I truly adore him, maybe he happens to like me too, as he called me by first name yesterday and said " Study better coralie! see, I've learnt your first name, Coralie!" .

He made me wonder why he happens to make me feel terribly good inside and I was faced by this thought that maybe it has a kind of connection with him being a student in France. Yes he must have learnt much there and he must have learnt exactly what I long to learn. France 30 years ago, sure, has been exactly the country of my dreams, and he -Dr Rankoohi- has lived in my dreams, hmm...sounds perfect.

Dr Rankoohi, Je t'adore!

I spend 3 hours at university, 9 hours sleeping, and the rest online. And these are the symptoms of depression. Regularly I spend up to 7 hours at university and 5 hours sleeping and the rest studying and laughing with the family.

I've learnt not to be too strict on myself, rebuking myself for what I'm doing when it's just the way it is and I can't change it, increasing the pressure just costs a little more tears, I should find ways to reduce the pressure from the other sides to let myself relax for a while.

There was a comment left somewhere can't remember where, which said that he did not know why is it that there has never been a famous woman director in the world.
Not to say that it's something strange to hear, yes, I've always seen that there has been no woman in many fields in the world's history, but that's truly insulting to see not even in the fields of art.

I never become angry to hear that not many women have been famous scientists, as I don't even see it an honor to gain nobel in science, as it depends on IQ more than anything, but how about arts and human sciences?

I am sure that women are far more better than any men in these fields, so why?

It makes me feel an urge inside to become a good director, I am sure that I've got a great sense in this field, but I just don't know how I should get into it.

Life, has betrayed me once again.

As an extremist, I believe if I'm feeling sad I should suicide, or if I don't have the nerve to make it, I should fuck off.

Guess it's time for me to fuck off again.

Well, I finally did the last of my midterm exams, I have just slept for one hour in last 24 hours and I am so damn tired but I don't feel like sleeping at all. All I've been doing in my life during the last 4 months has been either sleeping or studying and doing nothing else.

I've been trying to pretend to myself that everything has been OK, and everything has really been, really?

Sounds foolish, cause I've got lots of homeworks to deliver till next Thursday, and after that I will have to begin preparing for Final exams, that's my life, and I don't exactly know how long, yes for how long I can cope with this situation.

But I am truly happy for the way I saved my life for last three years, resisting the heavy pressure of university and just doing what I wished to do.

The most important point that I've learnt is not to ever wait for a miracle. Miracle does not exist. Miracle is me myself. I should just let "myself" happen.

Making decisions has one kind of joy and making them happen, another kind, though I've been always enjoying the joy of making decisions of my own and suffering from living the decisions that the others make for me.

But I will not ever blame myself for what has become of me at the age of 20, but now the time has come for me to set my goals and make a huge effort to make them happen.

It is difficult to make changes in life, but it becomes even more difficult each single day that passes and we are more and more involved in our current situation and the chance for survive.

And there are some phases of life that play a key role in determining the coming years, and some even can determine what happens to you for a life time. So I should be careful now.


I guess it's my last chance to save my dreams.

It has been a while that I've not been able to ignore what is happening around me no matter how hard I've tried. Of course leaving the country seeking a better life is not a solution, however that is what I've chosen.

Trying to dress as they wish, to behave as they wish, just to avoid shivering while I'm walking down the street to get a taxi to university and back home but Mama is still afraid that I might get arrested just for no reason and maybe the thing that frightens her more is wondering what my reaction will be.

Today when I was trying to sleep in the afternoon, I was distracted by a clamour and I just went to take a look outside as the din began to crescendo, then I noticed that the voices were from the faculty that my balcony opens to, where there were students fighting in a classroom, and in a room just over that class which seemed to be the room of the chief, was some great noises of the windows bursting, as the students were trying to open his room's door by force and he was talking on his cellphone as the door finally opened.

The news hadn't been published anywhere till now that I noticed a link in Balatarin :from BBC . I could hear the students shouting : "Mikosham Mikosham aanke baraadaram kosht" or "Daaneshjoo daaneshjoo, Ettehaad Ettehaad".

And the most terrible scene that I noticed from my rear window, was that when all the students had left to corridors or salons or somewhere that was not in my view, there were 2 or 3 students left in the classes, some who were smoking and a few who were bearded ones who surely opposed the protests, and the scene that I saw was 3 of these bearded guys gathered in a classroom, while the crowd had reached to the highest point of protest in a way that was sending a shiver down my spine by repeating the phrase "I'll kill, the one who killed my brother" , one of these 3 guys began to dance to the melody of their clamour!

Anyway, I've not been able to study or do anything since afternoon, terrible news, one after another, we're passing horrible days in Tehran and no one seems to care or even react.

It has been a long time since the last time I wrote a weblog in public, I've had a lot of private blogs ever since and never one in public.

I'd like to respect my last blog The Final Cut, whom I owe much, for supporting me since 2002, till almost 2007, who is now safely sleeping in my dashboard.

I'm starting here to share my thoughts about my social life, my interests and finally my studies.

Sometimes, my thoughts are bursting out, Sometimes they need to be heard.

فاینال کات برای عاشقانه های من زاده نشد

و شاید باید روزی به اصلش باز گردد


انگار که مثل آتشفشانی فوران کرده باشم
دلم می خواهد حرف بزنم.

فاینال کات با یک مشت حرف سیاسی آغاز شد

فاینال کات به منطق بیگانه است


سیاسی بازی های من حتی
سیاسی بازی های زنانه است
پر از آشوب و بلواگری


من همیشه پر از قال و قیل بوده ام
و مگر نه این است که حرفی که به دل بنشیند منطقی جلوه خواهد کرد؟

ولی منطق من
ساخت ریاضی ندارد
فرموله نمی شود


منطق من
منطق زنانه است
که بدجور اسیر شده
و مورد تجاوز قرار گرفته است


من این روز ها

بدجور جریحه دار شده ام

آن جور که پیوند نمی خورم



صبر
در منطق زنانه

معنادار باشد شاید

اما آنچه درون من می جوشد

صبر نمی شناسد
خسته است
و می خواهد غوغا کند
بشوراند
و دیوانه وار
زمین را
در حول خودش بچرخاند


مگر نه این بود که من مرکز زمین بودم روزی؟


و حال انگار
عن قریب در حال غرق شدنم


و نه حتی

کسی که


برایش

بتوان

عاشقانه نوشت


و نه حتی

کسی که بتواند

دست در دست من

مبارزه آغاز کند.

بگذار بگویم
به نظرم زندگیم بد جور در حال تباه شدن است

هر یک روزی که می گذرد را
می نویسم به حساب یک روز تباه شده ی دیگر

من مدتهاست دیگر
نه عکس می گیرم
و نه می نویسم

نه تویی وجود دارد که برایش چیزی بگویم

قدری هم شکاک شده ام

یعنی حتی به تو

که در هزار مایلی دستت به من نمی رسد

شک دارم.

دلم نمی خواهد

ببینمت.

دلم نمی خواهد

با کسی حرف بزنم

و جز این نیست که آدمی
جز با حرف زدن
جور دیگری اصلاح نمی شود

اما تو کامل نیستی

و هیچ کس دیگری هم کامل نیست

درست مانند چندی ارتباط که با اضافه کردن صفت ارتباط تغییر می کند


این جمله بسیار عمیق است

عمیق تر از پایگاه داده هایی که رانکوهی ارائه کند.

یک چیزهایی هست که نفرت انگیزند

مثلا عاشق شدن در مملکت اسلامی

یا بحث کردن با آدم های احمق


می دانم که همین حرفها که دارم می زنم نفرت ایجاد کن هستند

دسته بندی آدم ها به احمق و غیر احمق

ولی باید پذیرفت
که اینجا
در کنار ما

حداقل هفده میلیون احمق زندگی می کنند
که به یک کوتوله ی چشم تنگ فاشیست
رای داده اند

برای من جای تعجب است

که تو نشسته ای درباره ی یک خاننده با کسی بحث می کنی
به نظرم تعصب
هرگونه که باشد
نفرت انگیز است

برای من نفرت انگیز است
که تو روی کسی اینجور تعصب می ورزی


برای من تعجب انگیز است
که تو می گویی چرا من با عاشق شدن درین یک سال مخالفم

برای من تعجب انگیز است
که هنوز دنبال شوهری سوار پرادو می گردی


برای من نفرت انگیزید
همه ی احمقتان
که نمی دانید هم جنسانتان دارند کتک می خورند

برای من نفرت انگیزید
که تو سری خورید


که حاضرید
در خفا به عشق های به درد نخورتان برسید

برای من نفرت انگیز است
رضایت به هرچیز با کیفیت پایین


و من باید اعتراف کنم
بعد از سه ماه پافشاری و استقامت
بدون منبع تغذیه

دیگر حالا از انرژی خالی شده ام

و معتقدم

عشق ورزیدن بدون آن که آدمی از جایی عشق بگیرد
غیر ممکن اگر نباشد
سخت دشوار است

این گرایش به حرف زدن من و تو
می خواهد چیزی را از درونمان خارج کند
شاید چیزی شبیه کپه ای از کلمات
که در گلویمان انبار شده

چیزی که آزارم می دهد آن چه که اتفاق افتاده است نیست
درس نگرفتن است.

این گرایش احمقانه به سمت تحقیر شدن
شاید آقای نفتی باعث شد به این فکر بیفتم.
تمایلش به دختر هایی که ما در طول دبیرستان آدم حسابشان نمی کردیم
و آن ها نیز هم چنان

گاهی دلم می سوزد.
کسی که تمایل نداشته باشد که بینیش را بالا بگیرد
می شود مثل تو
که حتی بعد از عمل
دماغت دارد سقوط می کند

باور کن که این یکی را برای خنده نمی گویم
برای من هنوز سوال است
که چطور با آرایش های هفتاد قلم و دماغ های تراشیده شان
و حتی حالا
که رتبه ی کنکور من حتی از تمامیشان بهتر بود
رویشان می شود که هنوز به نفرت دبیرستانی پایان ندهند؟

رویشان می شود که دماغشان را بالا بگیرند هنوز
و چه حقارت بار است
که نوچه هایی به دنبالشان راه می روند

برای من سوال است
چطور کسی می تواند این قدر خودش را حقیر کند؟
برای من سوال است
که آن گونه خود را برایت حقیر کرده بودم
زمانی که از دوست داشتن چیزی باقی نمانده بود

درست زمانی که به کسی می گویی دوستش داری
از تو فاصله می گیرد
دیگر دوستت نمی دارد حتی
و این اوج بی لیاقتی انسان هاست

در حالی که چه ایرادی می تواند داشته باشد
که من در گوشت فریاد بکشم
دوستت دارم
اما نرو
کر نشو
غره نشو
زده نشو

این گرایش به حقارت
شبیه گرایش به پتانسیل پایین تر است
آدمی می خواهد به سمت حقیر شدن برود

چه اشکالی دارد اگر ما
بدون حقارت همدیگر را دوست داشته باشیم؟
و تو
درست زمانی که کلمه ی دوست داشتن را از من می شنوی
دماغت را بالا نگیری؟

چه اشکالی دارد که لیاقت دوست داشته شدن را
با خودخواهی مخلوط نکنیم؟

چه اشکالی دارد اگر
به تو بگویم
دوستت دارم
و بمانی

از نمایش قصه ی من بدون تو زنده ام
چون نمی خواهم از چشمت بیفتم
متنفرم

من عاشق صراحتم
عاشق فریاد کردن