*I don’t understand what I’m doing here. I mean, it changes from day to day, because consider the source, the source is me and I'm an unreliable narrator, to myself, with exceptions -but right now I’m in a bad spot when I don’t understand at all. How can I then expect others to understand what I’m doing here, I think. I need a picture, I think. A nice- how it’s called? Header? Where one gets one by the way, that, I also doesn't know. Only I’ve no idea how it should look like. Maybe my favorite poems. Okay. Seems like a very wide header. I need a sense of direction, I think. I need to do a survey, I think. I will be sad after getting the results, I think. I need talent, I think. I need time, I think. I need to be normal, I think-well, within whatever I have at my disposal, yesterday for example a big pull-up bar fell on my head, that’s how it happened: -first I screamed like crazy because there was a lizard in the bathroom, I love lizards, but this one surprised me, then I shut the bathroom door, then I had a brilliant idea to close other doors, and the door to my son’s room wouldn’t shut, I pulled harder, and then the stupid pull-up bar landed on my head, which is by the way my weakest spot, if you’re not able to tell it by now. (the pull up bar that fell on my scull) I screamed even louder. Then I fought for some time with the refrigerator to retrieve ice, but the thing didn’t work. Then I remembered that one takes frozen peas. I couldn’t find any peas but did see a big frozen breakfast sausage. It looked cold and merciless like some parts of my life. I pressed it to my head and called both boys (husband and son) to tell them of my misfortunes, and that the lizard was still in the bathroom. They both expressed worry and regret, yet nobody left his work to come and save me a) from the lizard b) from the frozen sausage c) from myself. *I need my peace, just a tiny bit of it. *And the voice answers-how you do fucking dare to need anything. These are all wants, in any case, and why should they be granted to you, frankly, if you distributed wishes granted-are you sure you’d pick yourself? And peace, dear, will come, whether you want it or not. No need to hurry things, они и так поспешают. *Then who knows if it will be peace then. After all, -one doesn’t say in Hebrew that someone “went to a better world”. No. In Hebrew-he goes “to his world”, she goes to “her world”, they “go to their world” (there is no “it” in Hebrew). It sounds like everybody has whatever mysterious world of his own to go to, and who knows what’s there at all. There are but vague guesses, and none include anything remotely reminding Heaven. *I didn’t read yet so many books, and instead of starting which I intent to do-I decided to re-read “Caspian Rain”, this time directing my attention on details of weddings and outfits, that’s for my personal survival, because you know how weddings here are very strange? Ah. By the way-do you know that they charge for the chairs s e p a r a t e l y? Song from "Les Misérables" comes to mind. "Charge them by a chair, charge them for the air", here, I'll link to the best version:
Now multiply it because Persian community. It’s the event of one’s life, and there’s nothing I can do, except try not to give a damn, and look confident, and what if I can’t? In short, the book didn’t calm me at all, but I love it now just the same, maybe even more, when I’m re-reading, also I stumbled upon the following sentence: "“She’s innocent and sincere – yes, willing to help anywhere she can, to forgive a snub and respond with kindness because that’s what people do when they’re from the ghetto or barely out of it; they expect to be snubbed – and this may be a quality that would be forgiven in another time and place, but among Tehran’s new elite, who have forgotten their own ghetto past too well, it only provokes condescension." Ohmygod, I think, it’s precisely me, in my childhood and youth and sometimes even overflowing into now. It’s been three days since I’ve read this observation-and я хожу, пошатываясь, как будто мне упал на голову турник еше третьего дня. You see, I thought, I was just brought up mild-mannered. Maybe I’m also emotionally astute or something. Maybe you know, они пытались воспитать интеллигентного человека, что-то у них да получилось? Nobody ever framed it to me in this unexpected way, which actually makes a lot of sense. I try to remind myself that one shouldn’t be so gullible. Okay, nice observation, this one is. What now, should I rethink all my fucking being? (I’m not a native speaker, to me “fucking” sounds really benign. That is the magical effect of languages. Everything is illuminated. Curse words are milder and musical. Names are way cool. The lyrics seem smarter than they are. Etcetera.) Yet I’m still to climb from out of this paragraph. It landed upon me heavily and hit me. Just like yesterday took me several hours of ringing in my head, after the pull-up bar incident. Пока, я даже от ужаса сочинил стих, то есть не я, но я его изменил и дополнил, вот послушайте: There was a little ghetto girl, Who had a little ghetto curl, Right in the middle of her ghetto forehead. When she was good, She was very good indeed, But when she was bad she was horrid. (Longfellow, and me)
*That's me at the age when my dark origins were revealed to me.
I'm probably plotting, well, something. Don't remember.
I do remember vividly though how the photographer gave me the house and the rooster and the bunny-and then took it away!Took it away!
То у меня хорошая память, то плохая, заметил я.
Ah. and that post, the one I wrote in Russian, the one with the latitude and longitude? For fun, I put it into google translator and clicked "translate to French" button. Didn't make no sense whatsoever. Like, there was zero in common, between what I wrote and the translation. just sayin'
****************
Questions for you:
-will you answer a survey if I decide to make one?
-other questions for you
-you can ask me a question too/tell me to put a frozen sausage on my head again, for I clearly need that
-stay safe!!!
-я вас люблю; чего же боле
(to your first question) Yes
(in between) Stay away from pull-up bars and mean photographers.
(to your last question) Nothing more (presuming google translate works just fine)
Thank you for the restack, @Fotini -you're too kind