Attention Attention
Last night, on February 28, 2008, after years of being acquainted, when unbuttoning his mouth, somewhere in the beautiful streets of The Hague, someone lost his “charm”.
The owner is totally unaware of this incident. But the writer of this announcement thinks that perhaps the above characteristic has slipped into some sewerage or so.
The finder is friendly asked to, after cleaning the attribute, never give it back to the owner, because it has already been abused too often.
E Termini.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Announcement
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Speechless
Sometimes when I wake up, I am more sensitive to things than normally. Imagine this sensitivity be on a very busy Monday.
I put all my clothes on, went and sat at the table while eating my breakfast and watching Iran’s news broadcasting. I usually never watch that, because of all the propaganda and crap it sells. But it was on, and I didn’t change the channel.
First it was about the fuel prices, a woman behind the wheel was interviewed. The woman announced that she always thought that setting the domestic gasolene prices to its international price, would be much better, so now that they have done that, she is happy.
“Huh?!” why the hell would she have wanted that? The prices are higher now. Is she insane? Only the mafia government is going to profit from this.
Then the channel talked about how Cuba's parliament had democratically chosen Fidel Castro’s brother to be the new president!!
Now, I grabbed the remote control, but I was already late for my bus, so changing the channel would not have made any difference. I quickly left the house, but just in front of my nose, the bus left and I missed it. The most adventures person I know shouted from the balcony: “wait there, we’ll catch it”. In a glimpse, he was down, jumping to the car, starting it and maneuvering in the narrow streets to catch up the bus. I’m sure if he was not born in Iran, he would have become a formula driver. He used to compete in “illegal” car-rallies in Iran, which are illegal because the government is just against any kind of activity that stimulates the work of adrenaline!!
I saw the bus standing at the bus stop; I thought: ‘we are not going to catch it in here, maybe the next one then’. WRONG! He said: “we caught him” and started tooting for the bus, made a half circle turn and stopped just in front of the bus, so that the bus couldn’t drive on anymore. It was like an action movie. I was amazed, but he wasn’t. He even bended over to open the car-door, which was on my side, and said: “voila! Get out now. You don’t want to miss it again!” I picked up both my bags full of books, got out of the car, and stepped in the bus. The driver smiled, and was amazed also. Everyone in the bus was looking at me as if they were looking at a movie-character who just jumped out of the movie they were watching. A man instantly took his big luggage off the seat which was in front of him, I went and sat there. He smiled and said: “I think you have a very busy and important appointment then.” I smiled back. I went through the whole scene in my mind and every time I pictured it, I automatically smiled. I SMS-ed him: “thanks”. What else could I say? There are certain moments in life when words can’t do their job efficiently…
At my way to the university, I read my newspaper, which had written an article about a Palestinian hiphop-group called “stormtrap” (Ramallah Underground). After I read the last part, “It is frustrating to live with all the humiliations and limitations of our freedom. But because of boredom you can make music, like the first time I wrote lyrics. It is a way to turn something negative to something positive”, I had tears in my eyes.
I closed my newspaper, and looked at the girl in front of me who was doing all the puzzle games (either with numbers or with words) that was offered by the newspaper. My senses were still active. I watched her from toes to head. She wore black high heeled boots; tight, black, leather trousers; and a funny, gray coat. She had fake light blond hair; her own hair-color was dark blond. The color didn’t look good on her. And her face had not a single attraction that is worth using words for, so…
At the university I worked hours on a project. When I took a break, and went out to enjoy the seldom nice weather a bit, I received a phone-call from my good friend with whom I went to Paris in December. The “good” friend which has not been so “good” lately! I asked her about her exams, she said she blew them and has to take them again in a month or two. We talked a lot, I wanted to talk to her about some private matters, but somehow after what she did to me in Paris… and all that has happened afterwards…
No I couldn't talk to her. I smoked three cigarettes instead!
I couldn’t find my “inspiration” at the campus either. I guess he skipped today’s classes or something. I tried to find some new ones. And Oh My God, I couldn’t choose a better day. I don’t know whether this sensitivity comes with sun’s appearance or it's just something that is there, once in a while! I found myself staring at some guys. Hot ones! Tall, dark, handsome ones (a very cliché illustration, huh?). And what do you know; I received the same kind of smile-included-observations back. I never talk to them and they cannot fill in the place of my real “inspiration”, but they can temporarily entertain me and my columns.
After another few hours of study, I stopped to check my e-mails. Among all those e-mails, I read this beautiful e-mail from the epigramist, I once wrote about, which had sent me this link of the Silk trailer. The mail only said the following: "I just had to think of you." It was so touching that, now my first priority in seeing movies is not “Caramel” anymore, instead it's “Silk”. But what else could I say than: “thanks”…
I put all my clothes on, went and sat at the table while eating my breakfast and watching Iran’s news broadcasting. I usually never watch that, because of all the propaganda and crap it sells. But it was on, and I didn’t change the channel.
First it was about the fuel prices, a woman behind the wheel was interviewed. The woman announced that she always thought that setting the domestic gasolene prices to its international price, would be much better, so now that they have done that, she is happy.
“Huh?!” why the hell would she have wanted that? The prices are higher now. Is she insane? Only the mafia government is going to profit from this.
Then the channel talked about how Cuba's parliament had democratically chosen Fidel Castro’s brother to be the new president!!
Now, I grabbed the remote control, but I was already late for my bus, so changing the channel would not have made any difference. I quickly left the house, but just in front of my nose, the bus left and I missed it. The most adventures person I know shouted from the balcony: “wait there, we’ll catch it”. In a glimpse, he was down, jumping to the car, starting it and maneuvering in the narrow streets to catch up the bus. I’m sure if he was not born in Iran, he would have become a formula driver. He used to compete in “illegal” car-rallies in Iran, which are illegal because the government is just against any kind of activity that stimulates the work of adrenaline!!
I saw the bus standing at the bus stop; I thought: ‘we are not going to catch it in here, maybe the next one then’. WRONG! He said: “we caught him” and started tooting for the bus, made a half circle turn and stopped just in front of the bus, so that the bus couldn’t drive on anymore. It was like an action movie. I was amazed, but he wasn’t. He even bended over to open the car-door, which was on my side, and said: “voila! Get out now. You don’t want to miss it again!” I picked up both my bags full of books, got out of the car, and stepped in the bus. The driver smiled, and was amazed also. Everyone in the bus was looking at me as if they were looking at a movie-character who just jumped out of the movie they were watching. A man instantly took his big luggage off the seat which was in front of him, I went and sat there. He smiled and said: “I think you have a very busy and important appointment then.” I smiled back. I went through the whole scene in my mind and every time I pictured it, I automatically smiled. I SMS-ed him: “thanks”. What else could I say? There are certain moments in life when words can’t do their job efficiently…
At my way to the university, I read my newspaper, which had written an article about a Palestinian hiphop-group called “stormtrap” (Ramallah Underground). After I read the last part, “It is frustrating to live with all the humiliations and limitations of our freedom. But because of boredom you can make music, like the first time I wrote lyrics. It is a way to turn something negative to something positive”, I had tears in my eyes.
I closed my newspaper, and looked at the girl in front of me who was doing all the puzzle games (either with numbers or with words) that was offered by the newspaper. My senses were still active. I watched her from toes to head. She wore black high heeled boots; tight, black, leather trousers; and a funny, gray coat. She had fake light blond hair; her own hair-color was dark blond. The color didn’t look good on her. And her face had not a single attraction that is worth using words for, so…
At the university I worked hours on a project. When I took a break, and went out to enjoy the seldom nice weather a bit, I received a phone-call from my good friend with whom I went to Paris in December. The “good” friend which has not been so “good” lately! I asked her about her exams, she said she blew them and has to take them again in a month or two. We talked a lot, I wanted to talk to her about some private matters, but somehow after what she did to me in Paris… and all that has happened afterwards…
No I couldn't talk to her. I smoked three cigarettes instead!
I couldn’t find my “inspiration” at the campus either. I guess he skipped today’s classes or something. I tried to find some new ones. And Oh My God, I couldn’t choose a better day. I don’t know whether this sensitivity comes with sun’s appearance or it's just something that is there, once in a while! I found myself staring at some guys. Hot ones! Tall, dark, handsome ones (a very cliché illustration, huh?). And what do you know; I received the same kind of smile-included-observations back. I never talk to them and they cannot fill in the place of my real “inspiration”, but they can temporarily entertain me and my columns.
After another few hours of study, I stopped to check my e-mails. Among all those e-mails, I read this beautiful e-mail from the epigramist, I once wrote about, which had sent me this link of the Silk trailer. The mail only said the following: "I just had to think of you." It was so touching that, now my first priority in seeing movies is not “Caramel” anymore, instead it's “Silk”. But what else could I say than: “thanks”…
Friday, February 22, 2008
Broadcasted from Iran...
Attention: The pictures in the clip below are shocking!
Soroush Hichkas - Ekhtelaf
Monday, February 18, 2008
Santoori
Previous weekend, after exactly a year of search and patience, I finally found the movie "Ali Santoori"(2007) by Dariush Mehrjooyi and beautiful act of Golshifte Farahani & Bahram Radan, the reason I couldn't find the movie was of course that the Ministry of Culture & Islamic Guidance never gave a broadcasting approval for the movie. Also for the (I don't know how manyest time) I watched "Mainline" (2006) by Rakhshan Bani Etemad and beautiful act of Baran Kosari. Two movies about epidemic drug addiction in my home-country.
I certainly recommend all those who have lost track of what is going on there (this has nothing to do with whether they live there or not, and/or how long they have lived inside the country) to at least follow some of its art...
I certainly recommend all those who have lost track of what is going on there (this has nothing to do with whether they live there or not, and/or how long they have lived inside the country) to at least follow some of its art...
Friday, February 15, 2008
Lean on me (Valentine)
When I loosen up my safety-belt
When you lean your words on my patience
When the red lights change into green
We stop in front of the don’t-swim-signs
Here in your dark colored car of memories
As the sea-waves watch us
We drown in each other’s tenderness
When you lean your words on my patience
When the red lights change into green
We stop in front of the don’t-swim-signs
Here in your dark colored car of memories
As the sea-waves watch us
We drown in each other’s tenderness
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Culture of South Netherlands
In the city my university is established, there is a holiday this week called: Carnaval.
Carnaval is a unique kind of event. People dress up in strange cloths, sing and get drunk from 8 in the morning till late at night. It looks a bit like Halloween, but instead of being scary, it’s being crazy, or as they call it themselves: it’s about being “yourself”.
Two weeks ago, when I was to perform in Café Carré, first City Poet of Tilburg, Jace van de Ven, was also invited. He made this joke about Carnaval and said: “If being yourself is whatever happens in these few days, let’s be happy that the rest of the 360 days, we are someone else!”
Though Mr. Van de Ven was just joking and when it comes to it, he has a lot of pleasure in joining the Carnaval, but I use his quote as a negative feeling towards Carnaval. I don’t like this part of the southern culture. It is odd maybe, I love Halloween but I don’t get the Carnaval feeling, even though I have lived in the most south place in Holland (Heerlen) for three years.
Walking in the streets, seeing all these people drunk at noon, wearing crazy cloths, makes me curious in what it is that they like about it. It’s even stranger seeing them enjoying it.
Today when I was in one of the South cities, I noticed the filthy streets, bands that were playing the traditional music which provokes my migraine attacks, and people who were drunk and hassle others who are not drunk (like me), with their cheep jokes which are suppose to be flirts. I’ve been told that they drink so much that at night, they end up sleeping with a complete stranger, I wonder what nice and enjoyable about that is…?!!!
But there are some funny parts for example, I saw two girls wearing one sweater together, I think they tried to be one of those twins that are stock to each other. Or a guy wearing girly cloths, with boobs and all! I looked at his way of walking and talking to be sure whether there are any female hormones too much in him, but no way! He had (fake) boobs and a skirt alright, but he walked like a macho man missing his bottle of beer in his hand (hey it rhymes!). I wondered whether that’s being himself or just acting freaky. I saw some prisoners, some whores… or actually some people who wore cloths as prisoners and whores or some people with the middle-ages’ outfits.
Carnaval is a unique kind of event. People dress up in strange cloths, sing and get drunk from 8 in the morning till late at night. It looks a bit like Halloween, but instead of being scary, it’s being crazy, or as they call it themselves: it’s about being “yourself”.
Two weeks ago, when I was to perform in Café Carré, first City Poet of Tilburg, Jace van de Ven, was also invited. He made this joke about Carnaval and said: “If being yourself is whatever happens in these few days, let’s be happy that the rest of the 360 days, we are someone else!”
Though Mr. Van de Ven was just joking and when it comes to it, he has a lot of pleasure in joining the Carnaval, but I use his quote as a negative feeling towards Carnaval. I don’t like this part of the southern culture. It is odd maybe, I love Halloween but I don’t get the Carnaval feeling, even though I have lived in the most south place in Holland (Heerlen) for three years.
Walking in the streets, seeing all these people drunk at noon, wearing crazy cloths, makes me curious in what it is that they like about it. It’s even stranger seeing them enjoying it.
Today when I was in one of the South cities, I noticed the filthy streets, bands that were playing the traditional music which provokes my migraine attacks, and people who were drunk and hassle others who are not drunk (like me), with their cheep jokes which are suppose to be flirts. I’ve been told that they drink so much that at night, they end up sleeping with a complete stranger, I wonder what nice and enjoyable about that is…?!!!
But there are some funny parts for example, I saw two girls wearing one sweater together, I think they tried to be one of those twins that are stock to each other. Or a guy wearing girly cloths, with boobs and all! I looked at his way of walking and talking to be sure whether there are any female hormones too much in him, but no way! He had (fake) boobs and a skirt alright, but he walked like a macho man missing his bottle of beer in his hand (hey it rhymes!). I wondered whether that’s being himself or just acting freaky. I saw some prisoners, some whores… or actually some people who wore cloths as prisoners and whores or some people with the middle-ages’ outfits.
Then I wondered how it is that people get attracted to each other in these buff outfits, to go and sleep with each other at the end of the day! However I tried, I just couldn’t fall for any of those puppy eyes in the face of some drunken guy who was wearing high hills!
And last but not least, I saw someone with a very good taste of dressing up: He was dressed up as Napoleon. Yeah this one took my full attention. I don’t like much chaos’s Napoleon caused in his times, but somehow I always felt this illogical attraction to his way of thinking. It’s the same illogical attraction that has caused me too much heartbreak in my love-life, but thanks to nature’s law, Napoleon is already dead, so... .
And last but not least, I saw someone with a very good taste of dressing up: He was dressed up as Napoleon. Yeah this one took my full attention. I don’t like much chaos’s Napoleon caused in his times, but somehow I always felt this illogical attraction to his way of thinking. It’s the same illogical attraction that has caused me too much heartbreak in my love-life, but thanks to nature’s law, Napoleon is already dead, so... .
I passed the guy who was wearing a Napoleon outfit, thinking, if I was a fan of Carnaval, and had one too many drinks, and maybe was wearing one of those whore outfits, I might have ended up sleeping with this guy tonight…
Naaah, I still need too much imagination to set that scene up, even if it's just for in my fantasy only…
Naaah, I still need too much imagination to set that scene up, even if it's just for in my fantasy only…
Friday, February 1, 2008
Time to...
I am re-styling my websites, combining them and re-designing them thanks to the company who I will introduce later on if the work is done, for their generosity of giving a big discount…
I am re-styling my house in The Hague. A friend might be coming to live with me there from first of March...
I am re-thinking, (or put it in a friend’s way of thinking:)“re-defining” myself a bit...
I am thinking about becoming more indifferent about many things: like people and what baggage’s they put on my shoulders.
I am learning how to handle publicity, how to choose where to perform, or actually whether to perform at all.
I am re-deciding many decisions I made earlier this year.
I don’t put the whole furniture out. Most of the things are here, it’s just a re-design.
I still love Italian music. I still write poetry.
I still love my university.
I still intend to take another major besides the one I already am studying, in Leiden University.
I still get touched by that two-faced person’s handwriting in my poetry notebook, writing for me:
“It was all after you stole me,
once with poetry and gaze,
but this time with hand,
train to train,
hand in hand,
we did the talkings,
disentangled the problems,
after our half-naked fond embrace,
with words,
I rose my red glass of wine to your eyes,
you tapped it to my weapon;
my pen,
and what a verse and reverse it is,
at the midnight of outset
of a year,
and of an impeccable relation,
in the hope of a different tomorrow…”
(the poetry above is from Amir Abbas Fakhravar)
knowledge sweeps away romance
Thanks to my statistic’s professor
I
as an upcoming academic
promised myself
Not to kiss their lips anymore
By reason I learned
the chances are very slim
for frogs
to become princes
I
as an upcoming academic
promised myself
Not to kiss their lips anymore
By reason I learned
the chances are very slim
for frogs
to become princes
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