Our path, thoughts, and beliefs are things that we have created ourselves. We should use them to our advantage in facing challenges because they are our own wealth. We determine the way of life for the next generation. By understanding the new modern world and its challenges, and finding solutions for it, we are the bridge between the last traditional generation and the first modern generation. Like everyone who lived during the first and second world wars. We are the bridge between the last remaining generation from the First World War and the traditional life that was referred to as modern life at that time. We are the sad, excited generation, like every other event that each of us experiences in our lives.
Tag: Diaries (Page 1 of 7)
Today, as I was heading home, I had a severe neck pain from standing all day. To ease the pain, I involuntarily tilted my head towards the sky and realized how much I missed the stars. How much I longed to watch the sky.
The last vivid image of a starry sky away from the city I have in my mind is from a night when my family and I, along with the late uncle, were near “Qinargeh” in Ardabil. The entire sky was filled with small and large stars, and I also recall a blurry image of the Milky Way.
I miss the simplicity of those days.
Today, after a long time, I spent the entire day with my family. We visited old parts of the city that we hadn’t been to for a while: Maqbarat al-Sho’ara, Shahnaz, the Tabriz Bazaar, and Baghe Golestan. The last one was more nostalgic for my father than for me.
I also tried to mend a fractured relationship. Recently, I’ve become addicted to a kind of semi-sweet treat called “Mikado,” mainly because of its sheer simplicity. You go to the store, buy it, sit in a corner and eat it, and then throw the wrapper in the trash. Pure simplicity.
You don’t think about any complex equations while eating it. Unlike cigarettes.
I will have tough days until the end of December. I need a calmness that can be injected into me, not something I need to discover.
While listening to “Unutdunmu Sevdigini” by Ali Kinik.
Once you start recognizing the signs of ADHD, you begin analyzing everything, and your mind gets used to all the “what-ifs” and “so-whats.” The result is that even moments of solitude and efforts to not think about anything end up being filled with intense overthinking, analyzing the most trivial things to achieve the most insignificant mental goals.
Everybody just wants to be liked and accepted.
Except for Tom
Tom doesn’t give a shit.
The hardest moment of quitting smoking isn’t 23 hours after the last cigarette, but the next day. When you find yourself in the exact same time and place where you had the last smoke. It feels like dragging your hand across a smooth surface only to disrupt the harmony of that surface with a small dent. The feeling it created is gone. It’s as if something is missing that should be there. If someone can get through this phase, it can be said they’ve quit smoking.
A few days ago, the rain fell in an unusual way. It reminded me that the days I’ve lived so far are like those first 23 hours. The 24th hour, the same time and place, will come eventually, and only then will I understand how I fared. The scary part of this is that in those moments, I might not be under my own control. Hard days are ahead.
While listening to Solamanet Tú.
Over twenty years of my not-so-remarkable life have passed, and I’m still left with the regret of not being able to trust someone without ending up disappointed. It’s a painful tragedy.
I have a simple solution: let’s teach The Little Prince from the first grade. Maybe the next generation will turn out better.
Light rain is falling. After a night full of stress and a tough morning, I’m lying on my bed. Ali Kınık is singing, “Even the children know that Ali loves Aisha.” It’s been a long time since I’ve had this kind of mental void.
In the midst of this, I’ve realized I need to delete half of my contacts. For the third time in the past two years. Peace is a beautiful thing.
The reality is that the Earth will never experience the kind of peace we dream about. Conflicts, distractions, wars, and so on will always be present. Waiting for all problems to be resolved before starting to live is not sensible. Let’s start right now. Let’s live as well as we can. Let’s laugh more, show more love, and work more effectively. Perhaps this very start will eventually be pieces of the puzzle of an ideal world and we’ll see our dreams become reality. And if not, we haven’t lost anything. We’ve lived our moments.
The heaviest days are those when change is imminent and you’re the last one to change. It’s like the feeling of the last member of a group facing execution, with even the fellow members absent to mourn. Or like the feeling of parents whose children have gone to the other side of the world, leaving them alone at home, staring at the walls. Or perhaps it’s similar to the feeling you get after imagining a longing glance, only to realize that the image was just a figment of imagination and not reality.
I am Jack’s broken heart.
In less than a week, two animal shelters were attacked (!). First, the animals at the Varamin shelter were killed, and its owner was also stabbed. Then they attacked Mrs. Raoufi’s shelter, set it on fire, and both the animals living there and Mrs. Raoufi, the owner and founder, died in the fire.
I remember in a documentary, a gentleman in Germany says that there isn’t much pride in what’s happening here. Then he mentions that after World War II, Berlin was reduced to rubble, but within 60 years, its people rebuilt it. [So, we can rebuild our country too.]
I would love to tell him this news and ask for his opinion again. Physical ruins, yes. 60 years is a long time, but we can rebuild everything in 6 years. What about mental ruins? How do we deal with the stench of rotten thoughts? How do we rebuild it? How do we stand against the massive reproduction of these thoughts? What can we hope for here? What should we fix?
