کمی هم فارسی بنویسم...!

  
   از انگلیسی نوشتن گاهی خسته می شوم. به ویژه وقتی که می بینم چرخه ی واژه های کاربردی، همچنان بسته  مانده است. نگران دوره ای هستم که سه ماه دیگر به پایان می رسد و باید برای دو تا تست مشکل آماده شوم.
اگر این دوره را را تمام نکنم، سال دیگر خبری از دوره موره نخواهد بود !! نه نای اش را خواهم داشت و نه پولش را. چرا که هزینه های کالج سال آینده بالاتر می رود و تنها برای کسانی رایگان است که کار نمی کنند، حتی کارهای پاره وقت هم نمی تواند دانش آموز را از پرداخت هزینه کلاس معاف کند.

مثل همیشه، به خودم قول هایی می دهم و چند روزی هیجان زده می شوم و دست آخر می بینم هیچ کار خاصی نکرده ام !
نگران همه چیز و همه جا هستم. به آینده کره زمین فکر می کنم و نمی دانم دقیقا" چه کاری از دستم ساخته است !؟
اما شب ها با آرامش بیشتری می خوابم. قبل از خواب از خودم تشکر می کنم که در طول روز اشتباه بزرگی مرتکب نشده ام، خاطری را نیازرده ام و کسی را نرنجانده ام. آنچه را در توان داشته ام برای روزم صرف کرده ام و حق دارم یک خواب آرام را به خودم هدیه کنم.

I am tired

    ... and I'm sick of repeating the same word, again and again ! sometimes I must rub the question off my mind which I don't know the answer...!

Happy New Year

     We have stepped into the new year in Iranian calendar.

     There is a Persian proverb saying " You can predict your new year ahead by looking at its first season, Spring !"

     My new year didn't start good. I was awake all the night with no reason. Then, when I fell into sleep, it was about 6 in the morning. I woke up soon and felt so tired and anxious. I went to class and tried teasing others to keep myself awake ( such a strange behaviour...!!! )

     I forgot to congratulate the new year to three of my classmates, which was embarrassing !

     My start wasn't completely satisfied but I must ignore the proverb. I have lots of things to do for the new year. I am going to have an important change in my life, a clean slate !

    

Sometimes

     Once, quite long time ago, I felt that something was strange with my health.I thought it was probably an illness, so that, I booked an appointment with my GP for the first time in the UK. On the day of the visit, unexpectedly I found myself in a difficult situation : I was unable to explain my illness properly ! It wasn't actually my fault. There was a very complicated issue , a mixture of physical and psychological problem.

     However, I started describing my feeling, keep repeating the word " sometimes ". I was telling, for example : " I am feeling dizzy sometimes but it disappears at another time !"  Or : " I have a pain in my chest sometimes but I don't feel it at another time ! " so on and so on.

     The GP was an English lady and was patiently listening to that strange description of the illness. She didn't ask me about more details as doctors do. She checked my blood presure and my chest very quick and said : " That's absolutely normal.We are all the same, sometimes feel bad and sometimes well ! " 

      I was furious by the time and never visited the GP again. I found the problem later though it wasn't fortunately serious. 

     Then I understood that the word " sometimes " had ruined my explanation. I was trying to avoid giving my comment to the GP and trying to be respectful, which was wrong. Here in The West, we need to be more straight, more certain about what we are trying to say. This is a situation we define it as a merciless logical communication in The East.

      

...

     I have uploaded a picture to shawgaar. It can be seen on the right side. That's my picture. I confirm that the picture is certainly mine. It's me, trying to pretend that I am not aware of the camera.I am a good pretender, sometimes.

     Tonight I was asking myself about the difference between my picture and me. Concentrating for a minute or two, I was attempting to detect a tiny satanic lie in my eyes. I was not looking into the specific object. I was not even staring into an unknown point in the space. I was searching nothing. My eyes are not honest to its audience. My eyes are not mine.

     There is something so strange in the picture.This photo is for a stranger, not for me. That's why I pause for a minute every time when I visit my page, staring at the picture. 

      There is always another "me" lives beneath my skin, a different version of me, resembling mine.

      Probably a stranger had appeared in front of the camera just a minute earlier than I did. I wish ever I had a real picture of myself.

      

     

F R E E D O M

     I think everybody has his/her fate.I know this is a very old-fashioned word, even meaningless, but I don't know the word which can be substituted for it.I have, any way, my own fate; I'll write about it later.

      For a minute I'd like to close my eyes, stop thinking of everything going around me and to ask myself that what's the most important value of the human being ??!! The only answer crossing my mind immediately is The freedom ! I can't think of anything else.

     The freedom of choosing the language you like to use, the person you love to be with, the teacher you trust, the words you use, the colour of your clothes , the style of your dress, the place you like to stay etc.

      Same as millions of people in the world I feel I'm in a kind of prison. We will finally end up in a sort of prison,I believe.The earth is a huge prison, the love, the family, the religion and the faith could be a prison. Even so, I like to have freedom to enter my very own prison.