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چرا دیشب خوابم نمی‌برد؟ عذاب بود، هم فکر بود و هم فکر کردن به فکر؛ اول یه داستان بلند بالا کامل مرور شد با تمام نقاط دراماتیک و حرکت‌های داستان ِ بلند بالا خواب رو از سر گرفته بود و بعد داستان کوتاه‌تر شد و شد یه رفت و برگشت ِ شاید ده صفحه‌ای و باز هم ساده‌تر شاید سه ساعت گذشته بود و هر چی نفرت و ناراحتی تو این داستان‌های فروخورده سربارم شده بود رسیده بود به یه پاراگراف شاید و بعد پشت سر هم جمله‌هایی بود که می‌اومدند و تحلیل تصویری مختصری می‌شدند و بعد می‌رفتند و خلاصه یک شب تمام همه غصه‌هام شکل و فرم می‌گرفتند و برجسته می‌شدند و خلاصه نمی‌گذشت و داشت صبح می‌شد و من کلافه که باز شده بود مثل دو سه ماه قبل‌تر و دو سه ماه قبل‌ترش و باز هم دو سه ماهی قبل‌تر و خب مثلا چرا چه‌‌طور یکی باید در مدتی شاید کوتاه، شاید بلند، چندین و چند بار دلش بشکنه؟ این بی‌مزه‌ترین جمله‌های دیشب بود؛ هر چی بیشتر می‌گذره انتزاعات ِ لااقل قبل از خواب بیشتر از حالت چنین حرفایی فاصله می‌گیرند ولی خب این هم بود، نه همین ولی مضمونش این چنین چیزی بود و خب قبل از خواب هم‌نهاد ِ ادبیات و سینما بروز پیدا می‌کنه و من اینجا قضیه رو برنهادیدم به کلمه‌هایی که به نظر خودم گاهی انقدر سخیف و هرزه می‌شن که راه چاره چیست؟ این عکس بالا رو دریا یه وقتی تقدیم کرده بود به من یه جورایی، نه اون دریا که من می‌خواستم باشم، یه دریای دیگه. که میانگین سه ماه یه بار ازش شاید خبری باشه، خبر نه، یه سوال: چطوری؟ام. منم از این عکس بیورک خوشم نیومده بود و حالا هم خیلی نظرم عوض نشده ولی دلم خواست بزارم نگاش کنم. می‌خواستم به خاطر خیانتی که به بیورک کرده بودم یه ویژه-نامه‌ای برای عذرخواهی تدارک ببینم و دنبال یه عکسی می‌گشتم که گردیدن ِ بیورک از وضعیت قهر ِ با من، به من باشه که من باشه در هستن که اینجا! همین شاید؛ خواستم بگم بیورک جان به من حق بده، من برای ترک کردنت دلیل داشتم و حالا هم می‌دونی نه مثل قبل‌تر ها، نه، اون‌قدرها عاشقت نیستم، ولی خیلی دوستت دارم و خب اختلافات نظری‌مون رو می‌خوام بگم که نه مثل ِ قبل نادیده نمی‌گیرم و با این حال باید بدونی که چقدر فکر می‌کنم شبیه باشیم. این حرف ِ ماجرا نبود برای عاشقی که هر چه باشد بی‌حرکت از کجا برکت؟ من خب باید می‌رفتم تمام و کمال سراغ یکی دیگه که شاید دوستی‌مون به اندازه بنده و جناب‌عالی سابقه نداشت ولی خب این شد که شدم به جایی که دیگر سراغی از من نیست. با این حال اگر یادت باشد مهم نبود که چقدر حواله‌مان دادی به دیگران و این تحویل گرفتن‌ات بود و من باز آویزان ِ تصاویر که می‌گشتند در دنیای قبل از خواب. حالا، عذر ما را بپذیر و خب نمی‌خواهم دروغ بگویم تا ببخشی‌مان و می‌گویم که بدانی عاشقت نیستم دیگر. هر چند هر چند نباید خیانت می‌کردم و خب تقاصش را هم پس دادم و حالا این طور است. می‌خواهم بخوابم و نمی‌خواهم فکر و خیال بماند، یا چنان ماسیده که خوابم خفقان آورد و یا چنان پرحرارت و جاری که سینه‌ام بسوزد تا صبح که بیدار شوم و چشم‌های خشک شده‌ام باز نشوند. بیورک جان یکی از جمله‌ها این بود که من و تو اگر با همه فرق داشته باشیم دلیلی برای شباهتمان کو؟ و هم این که شباهت چه چاره سازد؟ و دست آخر این‌که خب جریان اصلا این چیزها نیست، من فهمیده‌ام که هیچ نیستم و کنارش آمده‌ام با کمی فاصله حالا از هیچ که هیچ بوده‌ام و هستم و من حالا می‌بینی که چه تضادی جمع شده است؟ همین هیچ هستم و هیچ نیستم و حالم این وسط که فاصله‌ای نیست و هم چقدر دور است، دیگرگون می‌شود جایی بین ادبیات و سینما ولی نه هیچ کدام از این دو. خوابم می‌آید. تنهایی. لااقل بدون دلخوشی‌های دروغین. دلم می‌خواست بعد ِ یه سال یه گپی با دریا بزنم مجازا و بهش بگم اگه راست می‌گفت وبلاگ جدیدم رو دیدی؟ کنجکاوم بدونم چی شد درسش، امسال انگار لیسانش معماری می‌شد یا شاید پارسال، چقدر زود می‌گذره خوابم میاد. از آدم‌های مثل خودم متنفرم که سراسر وجودشان را انگار تنفر فرا گرفته است. همه عقده‌هاشان شده است نفرت از دیگران. برایم سخت است ازین وضعیت درآمدن ولی تلاشم را کردم دست ِ کم سه سال تمام یا شاید کمی بیشتر و لی نشد. بیورک جان نمی‌دانم ولی شاید ولی نباید این طور بوده است که از تو متنفر نبوده‌ام و خب مگر بیشتر از این هم می‌شود. دوست داشتن هم مگر شدنی است؟ به خودم باید بفهمانم که دوست داشتن با متنفر نبودن فرق دارد. بعد باید به خودم یاد بدهم که دیگران را دوست داشته باشم هر چقدر به خاطر دروغ‌هاشان زخمی‌مان کنند؟ بیورک جان، یادم رفته بودی. این را برای تو نوشتم، برای خودم. تا بخوابم.
Maybe you maybe you may you be one of those waiting, oh one of those waiting for the prince charming, I'm not quite sure about you but I was... about you I know nothing but I had always been waiting to see prince, galloping towards me, I mean you know his horse galloping and he, he standing, sitting going up and down hitting the saddle i gazing i see he's gazing at the sunset and glancing at me as if we both know something and you know he knows me better than the girl next door whom i'm telling you is loved by that troubadour and i don't care and the prince will he come? Prince much took care of me you know we're married now but i'm not like other girls as you know and i never do never what they always do. I just sometimes think why prince's gazes are so empty and that damned troubadour the corny you know he's sort of funny but not as my prince charming and i don't like that girl the horny she was fine before but she does things so disgraceful and they, they oh carelessly copulate in the woods i don't know how to say they em they are shameless n i accidentally watched them once i didn't want, just i was walking em, i twice it was, telling you the truth, and ah they are i don't know, me and prince charming tried the intercourse twice and that was tickling i say em aching i didn't like it but that shameless girl i never ah she said i deceived the prince, i told her everything but she oh i don't forgive her she and that troubadour not so funny i ah i maybe i made a mistake i knew that he was not quite the so called prince charming because his horse you know it was black not white, but i'm telling you he's rich and so handsome and powerful riding the horse you should see him he's em marvelous you can't imagine his father is the real king his mother keeps the house the castle i mean, she orders fifteen maids and i've been there in the castle but i wanted us to live in our own house and the prince had our own tiny castle be made here in the woods he loves me you know and he loved me by the first sight i just not intendedly kissed him and he loved me then you know he powerfully hugged me and em we rode on the horse i hold him tightly he asked me for marriage and i you know m not the flirting type like other girls like that troubadour's girl dancing foolish and stuffs like that the other girls do im not like other girls i e mi never doo i em you know he loved my lips said will you marry me the prince charming said that you know but his horse was black and i didn't then care till some time after the wedding we got into lots of quarrels and he left me some days and i thought maybe the real prince, beside having a white horse should canter not gallop their horses i mean their white horses. You know i never do what other girls do i you shouldn't think that i cared about his wealth and fame and ah that troubadour he had a huge em you know he sings well and i don't know he maybe she the disgraceful girl just wants to have fun with him and you know i'm not that kind i waited a hell of years on top of that hill for the prince charming to come and he did it one day i strode to his horse i em he was i can't see he was gazing at the sunset and i he suddenly saw me and i you know m not the flirting type i smilled and i just caressed his black horse and he i that shameless girl next door she i hate so much when making love with that troubadour in the woods aaaah why didn't my prince have a white horse? I was a special girl and he was a special one, prince charming oh the prince is a special one. isn't he? I love my husband and im the queen somehow i would be, but i don't, you know, i hate all the girls i'm different i but that damned troubadour sings aloud that all the girls think they are different than the other girls and i oh well i'm not i hate other girls i hate that troubadour that prince charming so much takes care of me. I wish he had a white horse.
برای تو هم مرگ، این آواز را امشب سر دادم. برای تو هم مرگ، امشب این آواز را سر دادم. برای تو هم مرگ ِ امشب، این آواز، تو را سر دادم. برای تو هم امشب، این آواز را سر دادم. برای تو همین امشب این آواز را سر دادم. برای تو من این سر کشیدم برای تو مرگ، این هم آواز، من که برای تو هم امشب این آواز را سر دادم و همین امشب چگونه می‌شوم همین حال، چگونه شده‌ام؛ این چرخشی پی در پی، گریبانم این چرخشی است که پی در پی به سراغم می‌آید و آوازم این فریاد ِ من این، همین امشب می‌گردم بی‌امان و من و این من و این من و همین امشب که نمی‌دانم چگونه است و چگونه است و چگونه هست و این همین حالا که دستم می‌رود و از دستم به سر کشیده‌ام این سروده‌ی زیبای روزهای بعد از مرگ من است و این مرگ من است و این کلمه‌ی من است که بعدش مانده‌ام برای کلمه‌ای که بعدش مانده‌ام برای حرفی که ما می‌مانم و ما می‌مانم و می‌ماند و می‌ماند و می‌ماند و من همین من، همین حال ِ من به همه می‌مانم. مگرم غم فرا رسیده است و از دستم مرگ می‌کِشد، غم را می‌کُشد، من را می‌ماند همین غم و آن دستِ رو به مرگم که مرا نمی‌رسد و ما را نمی‌مانم و می‌مانم و نه من، نه برای تو هم این شب، که مرگ آواز ِ تو را به سر می‌خواهم من این آواز ِ بر لبِ شب را می‌خوانم و نمی‌دانم که چگونه می‌مانم؛ من گشته‌ام سر، گشته‌ام من باز، گشته‌ام به من. در گوش باد فریاد می‌زنم در این گوشه باد فریاد می‌زنم در گوش باد می‌کشم داد در این گوشه خالی است این باد هیچ است که می‌رود از این گوشه هیچ است که کم می‌شود این باد از کجا در این گوشه فریادم از یادم رفته‌ام این گوشه در بادم فریاد می‌کشم این آواز هیچ ِ من.
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One big mistake I made / To put all these in front of your eyes / With photos not that much related / Making you not to give a damn / About my explanation of this alien / We call it human / I didn't even talk about he, you and man / Any way I found a way to say / That what was going to happen / In November 2009 / By the time lines below were written / We were all in 2008 / Same yellow November / Now I see that / All autumns are gonna be / Time for departure / You or me / I've been broken over and over / Treated I was like some old leaves / Cracks are what autumn brings / Remembering the limbs / Would make memories of a dreamed spring / Though you were not the dreamer / Now I see that I shouldn't have / Shown you dear, my dreamland / Heading the future- now we call it now / Some stories were to be histories / Me and she in there / Walking memories / First words came and it all went on / by then just nothing was gone / First we thought that you / you I don't know who / now I think that she / the one I say me / Is the one and I see that I'm done / We treading / The autumn leaves / Yet we're not talking the spring lives
(Nov.09)
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Part ONE
The cars passing by, all around cars / Thinking that it's more crowded in the bars / I’ve been waiting since Twenty minutes / After two have had past / In a sidewalk to see a nice girl / By then it was three o’clock at last / We were going to make a day ‘till / Day was gone and we at least seven miles / Have walked and have run out of bill / She appeared in her three layered clothes / That made me think / I was in my boots, that torn out blouse in pink / And pair of dark blue jeans so confident / She had red, dark brown and unbuttoned over-all in black / She saw me, then got hit by a car / which is called accident / Another car slightly hit her went out of it’s track / I couldn’t shout I heard different voices / There’s a hospital one man said / We three carried her, there were no other choices / The first driver didn’t want to touch the “Zan” / The other told him “fuck you man” / Hospital, I almost faded out, her father came / He anxiously thanked the other young man / She was saved, second driver only one to blame / Later his car wreck was stolen, the first driver gone / The young man then went to her room / He was gone, then the sister came / Five minutes later, three and fifty one / Her father went to bring the mother / What am I doing there, I wasn’t the brother / I saw the sister, she smiled at me / She knew me, said she wanted to see / Me, nervously asked “how is she?” / “She’s right, just want you to be.” / Her Leg was broken, four teeth lost / Words passing by, words passing by / Wounded she was behind one ear / She smiled “stupid friendship and it’s cost” / “Quite an experience” I said “no need to worry” / She cried loud in her sister’s arms / “I don’t want this, shouldn’t that driver be sorry?” / At most two months her leg would be in cast / The father came back / “Hi young man.” / Mother goes to her daughter fast / She cries and she stands and she says / “He is my savior man” / The father says “so who was the other young human?”
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Part TWO
On a concrete cube I was seated / some five meters wall for the background / Of three human to be defeated / Soon, as if earthquake was about to come / There she was walking around / And beside her Was a He / I can guess Who he could be / Someone more than a friend / For her or more than somebody like me / Leaning against a retaining wall / He was facing a window in the hall / Telling me something like what’s up? /// A strange thing happened to our neighbor / Beyond that wall, I showed them which one / My mother said that a newly bride / Found dead while her groom with no pride / Two days after wedding was at hard labor / She simply was suffocated with a plastic / Stuff, nobody knows what / My father heard and said god damn
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Part THREE
Thursday evening / A band of more than ten people / Could be gathered, dinning / With the excuse of being old friends / My beloved, she’s a dancer / Is not one of these stupid dead-ends / Bunch of architects and musicians whom she fears / Small scales of the big losers / I hated ‘em for more than three years /// It feels like you're feeling bad / My sensation too, sometimes goes like that / Touch the experience that's not all flat / Have this from me, your not so dear lad / That feels like we're all sad / People of not so far away past / I might spend Thursday by their empty memories / Shallow artists of no territories / If it is canceled I’ll let you know / That is possible, because / Most of the times they are employed /// All I here said was, bullshat / If it wasn't just like that / I for sure would have put that in my hat / Look at me making shit like shat / What is all that / Oh what is all that? / Someone sad said to someone mad / Touch my hand, say: this, my new brand / Maybe he hasn’t even liked her once / Or he wouldn’t do by any chance / This body dies / I don’t want it to / Since it’s not the thing that flies / Nor the soul like shit in the skies / All these lies / So what’s the point of / Drawing / Points, at the end of the lines /// Ich, du, er, sie, es, ihr, wir, Sie? / Why did you add the words / I couldn’t see / By the way / No meeting did occur / Due to the fact that no benefit is in there / After one year of being kept secluded / How could they find me attractive, disillusioned? / As far as they could see just my poor clothing / I was nothing more than a classmate, boring / Just in the case of student matters / I could be of help, no more exploring / Appear in such manner, I’m telling you / That no Bourgeois can fall in love with you / Their minds were spoiled / Even if they were not as rich as what they showed / But I wouldn’t bother / To meet those empty friends, once a year / Along with my valuable friends / One day or another /
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Part FOUR
In a strange way last night / One of my friend committed suicide / She was my classmate but / Not in a very right time / There she was / When we were in the same college /// My father saw her face in TV / And didn’t even know her / I asked him why / The body was found in the woods / By some kids playing there / The roles of dirty dudes /// Detectives later, discussing the facts / And no fact as my mother is the killer / Or any of my friends / I wasn’t at the center of the case neither / Nor did I feel free to be out of it / I was called to be there and… /// I couldn’t distinguish the parts / To be of one body / The work of art / There was a boy who called the polices / They arrived to see the dead body / Cut into six different pieces /// Another boy holding in his hands / A piece in English we call breast / Being hang upon the left hand of my friend / One policeman approached and took it / With his fingers, by the end of her white and red bra / And shook it / The bra was emptied out of flesh / Falling down and one muddy splash /// “Thank you, go play with your other friends” / He sighed and turned to watch me / Shocked in my own place / Girls and boys further / Were still playing around / Hands in hands singing their songs / That in the woods, what have they done / Polices were writing everything down /// “What are you doing, here / You can not see the naked body unless / Is she your wife?” The policeman says / No, but that happy boy in there / Is my son jumping up and down / He likes to call this park, jungle / So he called me an hour ago / “Daddy, in jungle, auntie is dead / Have we done the right thing / To call the police first?” / “You know, I said yes / We live in that block and she did right beside / I better say / She’s our family friend.” /// And in that manner she couldn’t / Have committed suicide / I hesitated but at last showed them / The letter she had given me / “Just the day before last night” / Then things were cleared off the scene /// And bunch of psychiatrists started / Working on the letter in between / The conclusion was read aloud in TV / By one bearded man laughing / “… and then, oh well / She had committed such fancy suicide”
(Nov.08)
