missing you

Something is lacking in the air, feeding to the growing void in my chest. The air is not enough, come home.

Writing thesis. Moments of a chewed up mind.

I can't say if I am very smart or very stupid. I don't seem to be the average though.

I am seriously concerned about the size of my thesis too. Is it too small? Others seem to have bigger thesis. I know size is not everything. But still. It is something.

I also realized I probably should explain some stuff from the beginning of the being, no matter how many bibles in the field have told the same story. I thought the committee would find it an insult. But someone told me an average person should be able to read your thesis like a book. To that average person "There are much better books to read. In fact I myself might write a far better one. Move on. Please?"

I hope I don't fail. Laughter in my head. Then sudden panic. "wait, you were serious?!"

It is not like "the beginning of being". I was exaggerating. I just liked to use that phrase. begin, being, begin, being.

For you, I will breathe again. A hundred times. A thousand times.

ای شب، ناز ماهتابت نوازش لحظه ها می کند

و شهر ستاره هایش را عاریت آسمانت

ای تن، به نشئت شراب سبک میشوی 

و آتش سینه، تو دود سیگار میشوی 

اکنون

خوش آن نفسی که از قفس رهایش میدهید

به رنگ شب

به زیور شهر

به ناز آسمان میدهید