350 - Crazy

I have to admit, I've never felt this strong affections for any one. It just takes me around, in a spiral, higher, higher, and higher. Takes me high to such level that I lose track of time. I just come to my senses, realizing that we've had spent 4 hours with each other, driving around town, grabbing a bite somewhere, and a long hard discussion about a mixture of our topics of interest.

And what happens next? An old friend comes knocking. Knock Knock. Here comes the fucked up part of your brain, and he wants to screw all the things you made today. It comes, out of nowhere, and fucks everything left, right and center.

Part of my mind is going to spend the rest of the evening, finding reasons for me to blame myself, on what I did wrong throughout the mid-day with her. Then, when it is sure it has found it all, it goes back throughout the days, throughout people, acts, and days. Blames me for every piece of simple wrong act I had.

I fought you so hard, I kicked you out so bad, and now, that I started feeling better from all the pain you caused, suddenly you are back from hell, you freaking THOUGHT TUMOR!?

P.S: Title goes both for the state of mind, and for the awesome song by Aerosmith.

349 - Abnormal

Went out for some stuff today.

Stuck in the traffic on the way back, thoughts hit me.

It hit me hard. Looking from outside, I'm acting a bit abnormal, at least when it comes to media and socializing.

Dad got me a ticket to some awesome-ass concert. I am so not planning to go.

People love going to concerts, I'd rather sit at home and listen to the same music in my own peace and freedom.

People love watching series. They follow them. Wait for the next episode to come out, and then go and lock them selves in on their laptop screen. I don't recall when was the last time I watched an episode of any series. It probably should have been sometime back in February or so, and it was definitely an episode of The Big Bang Theory.

People like movies, they follow some directors and actors like religious people follow their religions. When there is a discussion about movies, I probably can participate a bit, since I still remember some names. And I can recall that I watched some movies, and I liked them, or for some, loved them. I can remember 2007, when I watched every single movie of the year I could get my hands on. But now, in 2014, I don't even have a big enough movie-mind-span to watch a two-hour movie without stopping it at least once. [ That is unless it's an animation. Something about the colors still keeps me really entertained.]

People tend to text each other over Viber and Whatsapp and all of such for hours. They share their feelings, they chat about stuff, and spend their time 'socializing' throughout text messages and funny pictures and videos. I'd rather spend my social time, talking to people for real. If I can meet them, or if not, I'd rather call them. I'd rather take advantage of the fact that internet is Semi-down in this Country half of the time, and use it as an excuse to text people over the good 'ol SMS. To call them on their numbers, and talk to them about what I could have resolved with a simple Viber message, so I can hear their voices as well.

Yeah. Apparently, it seems a bit abnormal. But it's all cool. If I only managed to watch some movies again, that would be better. Apparently, I'd be missing too much art if I don't.

348 - Friend

First time that I met you, you were just a classmate of a friend, and all that got my attention was the fact that you were too short. [ I know, I'm an asshole. You don't tell some one they are short, it's not nice. ]

I grew into liking you, befriending you, and keeping you as one of the dearest friends. You have grown into understanding me, where apparently not so many other people do.

I can't convey it by words, how much I'm going to miss you, when you take all your stuff, and move all the way to the other side of this world of ours. But then again, it hurts so much to feel, better not to hurt others with the words of the feeling.

Let's just make sure you know how precious you and your friendship are for me, and how awesome it was to meet you, to befriend you, and to ever share any piece of a talk with you.

P.S: I give you all the rights to be pissed for my upcoming absence, but make sure you stop hating for it before you leave.

347 - And no trick was even needed

It's like, I've been through a whole world of experiences, and I'm exploding with the fear and joy of feeling those, and my whole mind is coming down to ashes, rising back to skies, between every two lines of my code.

346 - Asshole-ism, as a way of behavior

People are divided into two main categories. Those who I care for, and those who I don't. Fortunately [ or maybe unfortunately ], the first group is not small at all. It's actually quite big when I compare it to that of other people around me. Well, that's not a matter of discussion here.

If you are one of the people I care for, I'd spend good amount of resources (time, energy, etc) for you. The more important you are, the more resources are allocated for you. Sadly for you, one of this resources is the energy my inner child has for teasing people. So, the more important you get, the more of a valid target for my nice asshole-ism you would be come.

On the other hand, if you are in the second group, I don't even would like to spend energy to block my ugly asshole-ism towards you. And that's really ugly. If you are acting dumb, it's cool. But if I realize you are actually dumb and the dumb shit you are saying is actually from your dumb mind, GOD have mercy on your soul. I might suddenly rain crap on you, cause I can, and you are not important enough for me to stop my self.

So, to sum it all up, I act as an asshole sometimes (act like would have been just the wrong way of putting it way, it's real.) It comes in two ways, either I care for you and that's my nice asshole-ism, which I don't want to stop, I like it, or I don't care for you, so, I'm just sorry, that's part of my dark side, and that's a price you are paying [ most probably for your idiotic acts or words ]

345 - Why [In the blue hell] Not?

I gave it hours of though. Over and over and over again.

It's my brain, that causes nearly all of the issues.

It's not like I can turn it off, I can control it, or any thing even slightly close to that. I've been picking up hobbies to control the rate of thoughts, the rate in which it slowly [ but surely ] intoxicates me from within. But what happens, when the newly picked up hobbies enter your unconsciousness, and you do them with out any thinking. This is when they don't decrease the rate of thought any more. This is now, when they leave me against the wild thoughts, all naked and disarmed again.

I've been running around, running away from every thing there is, changed my city, kicked the friends around and juggled them for a while, even changed the way I sat behind the table to work with my laptop. And no, it didn't work, at all. Well, it did for a week or two, but things got back to normal. And since the hobbies have made it to the "No Process" land, it's getting worse and worse.

Sat down and looked back at all there was, ever. Any thing that I could recall. And there is one thing for sure, this brain is working way faster than it should, nearly all the times. The issue begins here, but doesn't end.

I'm looking at a pair of numbers. I sum them, I divide the greater by the smaller, and calculate the smaller minus the greater. Just for the sake of double checking, is the greater minus the smaller the positive of the value I just calculated. What is this one times that one? Bla Bla Bla Bla....

Some times I come to my senses. "Dude, that was just two numbers on a cars license plate? Just why did you do all that?"

It's so cute when you do this with numbers... But is it cute when you start doing it with every single sentence that every one important around you says? Is it even slightly fun to do this with every single act of every one around you? No. It's not. It starts hurting you, and you start getting mad at people for their smallest mistakes.

Mom said this small sentence when I woke up. Did she mean this? Did she mean that? Did she .....?

Dear friend didn't show up for my birthday. Is it because he is mad at me? What is he mad about? Is it the incident that happened two months ago or the one that occurred 5 days ago? Well, if he was mad about the earlier, the later wouldn't happen now, would it? Or maybe he just played along and now he is mad at both. O GOD!

You know, people get tired. People are not normally cool to stay around some one crazy. And we are talking some hard level of crazy. [ Like right now I'm pissed at this scroll bar on the left side of my text. This obviously should be on left when I'm writing from left to right. This level of craziness is bad ]

What happens? Either people move away, and those who happen to be your level crazy stay around and you guys just take each other to the next level which is madness, or some of your friends stay to help you when they see this is getting out of control.

Now you know what happens if they stay? Your mind starts beating you up after five months. "Man, you are torturing them. Find a way to send them away. They were not born to tolerate you." This actually makes it worse. It just makes it way worse. You find yourself, torturing those dearest to you. And that just makes you bleed more and more.

Some one finally leaves. Probably some one close to you. It shocks you. You come to your senses. You start acting better. The mind takes a rest, for a while. But you haven't cured it yet. It is to come back, to hunt you again.

They might come back, they might never show up again. I mean the people who left. But the mental illness is bound to come back. The illness that wasn't cured, it just comes back. It hunts you down again.

I'm here, standing in the midst of this second rush of cold blood to my heart. I'm torturing my self, and every one around me on the smallest things that my mind manages to focus on. It just runs away. Some days I wake up pissed. Since the brain managed to find a small piece of dialog some where yesterday with that close friend of mine where she said some thing slightly wrong. "O GOD! This is Disastrous!". Damn it, there goes another sunny day I was planning to go out and make some money. It's 1PM and I find my self hugging my pillow, in the bed, in the most useless way a person can be. Totally beat and broken. Who beat me? My dear brain.

One of these days, you just sit down and think. Now what is the problem here? Is it where I live? Well, I'm not a tree, I can move. No it's not that. Is it the people around me? Nah, they haven't been but perfect to me since I recall. My job? My colleagues? Nope, Nope, Nope.

Suddenly, all the fingers come to this one thing. The brain. The mind. The thoughts..

Well.. You can stop this brain some how. Right? Looked into some medications, but then realized I can not survive the life dumber than this.

Came down to this one last thing...

You can always end your own life, or your own misery if you want to call it.

There is that way to stop the brain..

I was waking up to this every morning, and there was still this whole will to live keeping me from finishing it some how. It was even keeping me from thinking how to do it.

But I won't deny. I was thinking about going down this road somehow every day.

Took me two weeks, and an old picture to realize there are still things to live for.

Ah well... Now I need to find a way to fix this crappy mind and tame it again.

۳۴۴ - دلیل، مشکل، فاجعه، هر چی اسمش رو میخواهید بگذارید!

چند ماهی ه دارم دیوار ها و پرده های دور و برم رو پاره میکنم.
ریز ریز کردم دیوارهایی رو که روش نوشته بود فلان کار بده، بیسار کار بده.
خیلی از کارهایی که از یک جایی به بعد برای خودم ممنوع کرده بودم رو انجام دادم.
خیلی رفتارهایی که حس میکردم بده،‌ انجام دادم تا ببینم واقعن بده یا نه.
با خیلی آدمها گشتم تا مطمئن شم بدن، تا مطمئن شم برام خوب نیستن...

میدونی! تو این جوری نیستی. تو برای من بد نیستی، تو برای من ممنوعه نیستی.
من میخوامت. خیلی میخوامت. و از این خواستن وحشت زده ام. و بیشتر از این وحشت زده بودن، تو برام یه رول سیگار نیستی که تموم بشی. ته ش نمیتونم بندازمت دور...

از تجربه ت میترسم..
شاید چون میترسم فقط یک تجربه بشه...

343 - Utopia [ Or a fucked up dream I've had over and over, recently ]

Every one looks for some thing. Every one has a perfection in their mind, a view on perfection.

For me, this is not it. I do not mean where I'm living at, nor what I'm doing. This whole thing, where I came in the play is just not what it should have been. Hell, I barely understand my role and where I came in. I normally don't end up having the co-actors I want, or they just appear, and as soon as I realize how bad I want them to be in my acts, they just disappear, or the play would find them a way to be totally on another side of the story. [ Exceptions occur, and I'm totally thankful for those, don't know to what I'm thankful though ]

For me, deep inside, I'd rather live in my codes. Rather live inside my computer. I'm leading life there, I'm the creator, I'm the GOD!

I've had this totally screwed up nightmare which I'd rather call a dream, a couple of times in the past weeks. I see my self sitting in front of my computer, I grab a knife, and tear my chest apart. I can see my blood pouring on my screen, my blood going into the keyboard, and I feel, Ah, this is good. My blood is running where there is the act I wrote. Where I'm the director, and where I decide every single step.

And then I snap out of it. Call me a maniac or any thing like that, I'm sick, we all know.

I can see my self, my body, collecting all the blood back in. I can see that even last drops would not stay between keyboard buttons. It's not like putting the movie to go in reverse, no. The knife is elsewhere, and I start feeling my body again. I look down, and the skin is coming back together, and the last bits of blood are being sucked back in, since well, looks like my fat body needs all the blood it can get.

I get up, wash my face like nothing has happened. Looking at the mirror, I close my eyes again, and once again I feel the awesomeness of my blood running in between keyboard buttons, how I was one with my creations, how I was feeling like nothing can hurt me, my immortality. I open my eyes again, and as I stare into my face in the mirror, I wake up.