sometimes I see public posts, notes, comments, twits and else that makes me wonder why the hell would I say such a thing that every fucking body could always see that and judge me by that. and that's when I feel proud of myself.
I'm writing imaginary letters to imaginary people using imaginary medium and i'm imagining sending them through an imaginary carrier. rest of the day(s) should be a hopeless effort in realizing some of my morning imaginations. oh, btw, good morning real people! 
دلم دوست دختر خودمو ميخواد ... د وان دت اي نور ريلي هد.
دروغ ميگم شاكى نيستم فقط دلم گرفته. بات وات كن يو دو!
من دپرس نيستم. فقط از دست يه سرى كه خيلى دوسشون دارم شاكيم. سر درد سگيمم برگشته. همين.
: are you at peace with your loneliness?
- I'm not lonely. you just can't see my people becuz they are only in MY world.
: so in your world, do you ever get lonely?
- yeah. sometimes. it happens.
: what do you do then?
- I pretend I enjoy real people.

This dance, this dance
Is like a weapon, like a weapon
Of self defense, of self defense
Against the present, against the present
"Present Tense"

I won't get heavy, don't get heavy
Keep it light and, keep it moving
I am doing, no harm anekatips.com

As my world comes crashing down
I am dancing, freaking out
Deaf, dumb, and blind

In you I'm lost, in you I'm lost

I won't turn round while the penny drops
I won't stop now, I won't slack off
Or all this love will be in vain, ooooh
Stop from falling down a mine
It's no ones business but mine
Or all this love will be in vain

In you I'm lost, in you I'm lost

who can made straight what He hath made crooked? (ecclesiastes 7.6)
i'm feeling it again. how small things can be interesting and joyous. this i assume is a progress.
sometimes like those few weeks, i find this ardent urge to feel left alone and forgotten. that's when i cut all my ties to the outside world (and friends) and deal with it (with me).
دخترى دارم گمگشته و مهاجر. بات شى ايز ماى سوپرگرل.