Unavoidable

یکسری مسائل وجود دارند که تصورشون شاید ناممکن باشه. شاید کسی نتونه تصور کنه زندگی بدون اکسیژن چطوری می تونه باشه. ولی باید دید وقتی کسی رو ببینیم که بدون تجهیزات بدون اکسیژن داره به زندگی ادامه می ده چجور واکنش ذهنی خواهیم داشت. انکار؟ توجیه؟ توضیح؟

بعضی (با تخفیف) از پدیده ها، فرضیه ها و توضیح ها هم به همین شکل هستند و شاید عدم پذیرششون برمی گرده به یک سری ساختارهای ناممکنی که تو ذهن ما تبیین شده ان.

می شه به سادگی و راحتی در مقابل پدیده ی واقعی همچون موضعی اتخاذ کرد. در صورت مشاهده ی یک واقعیت ماتریال، یک توضیح بدون نقص (در لحظه و نقطه) و یک فرضیه ی نقض نشده تنها تسلیم شد و لبخندی زد و جبر محتوم رو پذیرفت...

Form

The orange flames were enclosing the scene.
Shouts and Roars were rupturing through the domain.
horror was the only logical argument.
She confidently grabbed him tight and looked sadly into his eyes.
paved the way smoothly to the portal and with all her existence pushed the button for the past.
Came again to the sphere of peace and the the easiness of obliviousness.
midst the green valleys of grains and dust came the great cataclysm.
and began the elimination of the humankind and whatever he has had ever created.
as for them, falling desperately for each other again, one of whom not conscious of the sequel SHE was drifting through, the inevitable seemed unstoppable.
She, again, looked sadly in his eyes and paved the way, smoothly to the portal, knowing, against all odds, there’s still definitely lies another chance, the same chance, earlier in time.
She was thinking: goodbyes are never meant to be forever…

AWKWARD

اوقات نادری وجود دارند که حس می کنم احمقم

حماقت ذاتی کم نظیری که به موجبش تمام پدیده ها به شدت ساده به نظرم می رسند

در حالی که نیستند

و من تنهار در همین اوقات اندک قادرم از نشانه هایی این پیچیئگی عظیم رو حدس بزنم

و غمگین تر اینکه این واقعیت که تقریبا همه آگاه به این پیچیدگی هستند مثل یک خرس وحشی بهم حمله ور می شه

و من به حدت تو زاویه ای فرو می رم و کوچیک به نظر میام

درحالی که کماکان قیافه ی حق به جانب به خودم گرفتم

‘The Inevitable Definition of an Existence’ or, simply, ‘The Reality’

it’s 2:49 in the morning and it’s unusual, desperate and probably sad.

but it’s inevitably true.

that’s because it exists.

and the existence is necessarily definite.

where it’s the definition of it which makes it inevitable.

well, the inevitable is the truth, or at least, the reality.

However, it’s the quality of this inevitable existence that imposes the definition of the human condition each moment.

…

flap…

philosophizing about it didn’t wear it’s desolation away.

alright…

it’s a confession already:

I was dreaming of my childhood.

and it was such a delightful vision.

so delightful and joyous…

the anarchomusic

Give me my music archive, my earphone and whatever else necessary.

I will free the whole world…

The Last Man on Earth

There once was this man, this beautiful sophisticated man, and I was a boy, a man, a young man, meeting him, there, at the main building of the collage. And he was watching me and I knew he knew me, for he was watching me and again, he knew me since earlier, early 80s I guess. and I knew him as well back then and right now and then again he knew my father. As a matter of fact he knew my father first and then me, not to mention my mom in between. and we all knew his family. Trivial I guess though, but he smiled at me quite gently as quite gentleman as he was, and I remembered him being one, and told me in the most pleasently piercing sound a shriveling velvet like word can throw in the thin morning air, producing vivid images on my heads as a grotesque conscious deja vu to my eyes: “I know I would be able count on you”.

***

the world is at the dusk of it's destruction I guess and it is later on decades. Orange flames were common scenes where couples screamed in joy or pain or both, for humanity was at it’s finale, or at it’s another renaissance, where and when he, the one, the man with almost everything, who could afford to possibly want no more, would inherit it all, and he, the sophisticated man, as I once guessed and then told otherwise, would be the last person to capitulate whatever is left to what or whoever would come subsequently.

I can not by myself judge whether it was the most glamorous illustration there ever could be or the most wretched one of them all. Yet there suddenly seemed to be I am the one, and I always have been, I guess, with a power invested on me to be the last one standing out there.

***

The sophisticated man knew me. As he knew me back in the 80s. He knew my father and my mom too. He looked upon me as he once did decades earlier and he smiled at me, and was gradually swaped beneath my feet while whispering words of wisdom, just as acute as he once did decades ago. There was a sudden realization for me, ketting me guess that it was actually me being lifted from the orange surface off. Of course it wasn’t orange any more. White snow had covered it all already. I was the last man on earth. And I was ready. I guess I was…

LiveJournal Tags: fantasy, apocolypse, fiction

typical

This is where the backing song behind the protagonist theme sings: “There’s a hideous omen behind my soul, tearing it apart”.

The lonely protagonist turns away and whispers: “Enough with this shit. I’d rather die and not witness this misery suffocating this town”.

…

shut the fuck up protagonist…