That's it!

I think I finally figured it out...

it's all about the land, the land that its wind doesn't have a color to paint with... or at least doesn't show it up for everyone... this land is scared... doctors may call it apoplexy...

Savage... I could be...  yeah I could be....
as Mercedeh's father call us: Persian Savages (good to mention that he himself never want to leave that savage land...) yes we are.... yes we could be...
Miles away... yet I feel the suffer of that land's spirit... I know, it's there and suffering, but least the spirit is there... I feel it... I feel its existence...
and yes I care, since that's whom I'm talking with, whom have made be "me"... I do care... I want to care... I... whom...

And now I'm here, letting part of that spirit grow and live inside me, suffering but living...
that spirit just like me needs friends, she looks around... yells around... Anyone?...echo... emptiness... echo...

It's almost two years since the day I'm running around, along with the part of spirit of mine... she couldn't find a friend... neither I... I talk, I laugh, I... but she is yet alone... looking at me, suffering more and more...

I call many alive ones around, as "my friends". I hug them more than friends of mine back at home... I am readier to be part of the land... part of the world... part of the moon, lawns, mountains and hills... but no one hugs me back...there is no acceptance... or at least it's me not feeling any acceptance...

People are nice, right... but am talking about smiles of the lands...
Filling the smile of the leaves, bricks, stones while talking with them... filling the hand of God massaging me while going deeply to dreams...
For ages, when I woke up, it was me deciding to leave the bed... feeling that God out there is patting me all night long... but here after two years, its still bed pushing me out! he doesn't want me... he is just a bed! he is just... "it"!

Since the day I put my steps here, I couldn't have a dialog with the sky! I saw the stars, but it seems they don't have a wish to talk back with me... the starts of this land are brighter, but I believe they are weak inside! they afraid of strangers... and they could be right... they suffered a lot by accepting the strangers in the past...
These so-called Americans made this land to kill his own spirit... or at least hide it somewhere in the caves or somewhere under the seas and rivers... somewhere between clouds...

I miss them! I miss the stars that I used to talk with...

I want it... I demand it... I need to talk with the wind, with the dragonflies, with the jungles out there everywhere...
I couldn't be Pocahontas anymore, without spirit of the land...

I need to be able to talk with stars again... I need to make friends out of squirrels... there are there... I just need to be part of the land again... not stranger anymore...

I need to search in caves and under the seas... definitely not for these settlers of the past, residents of presents when they don't even want it any more, know what I am talking about... damn, who cares about them... no, I just need to do so, because the part of spirit of my own land, living inside me, is lonely... she is crying, I feel the wetness of her tears inside my heart... she is crying...
that could be one of the rare things, I could do for her...

ps. let's play with play-toys of so-called Americans... toys of nature in the hands of settlers, sitting and turning their back to real, lonely nature...
Happy Alexander Calder's 113th birthday, who at least brought the toys of nature, to hands of the people here...

پینوشت دو: مامان راست می گه، من چشمهام رو به روی چیزهایی که اذیتم می کنند، نارحتم می کنند، می بندم... خیلی ساده... و خیلی احمقانه...

و یک کار دیگه: از "تمام کردن" بدم می آد... شاید برای همین بیشتر سه نقطه می ذارم تا نقطه... شاید برای همین کلی کار نا تمام دارم تا کار تمم شده... لعنت به من که خودم رو می شناسم، اما ضعیفم برای عوض کردن خودم...