whispering

behrooz asked me to "contribute", so here i contribute! and soon he'll ask me not to or i'll find him borin' and will go. right, we've been mates for sometime now, but we are mates cuz we know how to disagree in a mately way. we are galaxies away and then somehow glue together by some unseen gravity beating physic laws. what the hell we may see in each other thus goes beyond my grey cells. for the record: i contribute, donc i am.

Blogging Is Cruel!

Some are private and some are public; I am private. Blogging for my kind is one of hardest things to do. You practically attack your private self; it is self-destructive. You feel exposed to those whom you don't know. You leave yourself at the mercy of their judgment, whatever that may be. You subject your 'self' to a challenge which may more destabilize you than otherwise. Masochistic? .... yet you blog; don't you?

Such a Dear Living Dead!

'How can piles of dead cells be the cause of such great liveliness and love?' It's now some time that I have been charmed by the question. More than the question, like all others of course, I have longer been captivated by the unquestionable beauty it brings to life.
Sometimes it is prestigious when it is short; then you see a long flirting one and you wonder: 'what of the other one?' Next, it is black which shines out and intensifies beauty with contrast and challenge. Yet, before long you are left astounded with golden glimmer and glow of an irresistible blonde. Only to go ecstatic with the exotic composite of the brunette and still more exotic blends of beige, black and what not. All the same, you can never imagine what next would take your breath away. And the story repeats itself with the number of diverse forms, colours, blends, fashions, cuts, etc. of hair you see on somebody's humble head.
Funny enough, even the lack of those dead threads of hair can also be charming because they have a story of their own why they are not where they are supposed to be.
Throughout centuries hair has so affected aesthetics that many aesthetical recognitions are primarily flagged by some features of hair. If it is not its colour (blonde, black, ...), it's the feel of it (soft, silky, ...). While some fantasize their imagination with the length of their beloved's tress, others get lost in the frivolous ringlets of the the shifty mistress. As smoothness and willowing flow of it does so little to fully bewitch reluctant brags, curly loops may do even less to trap fool heads. And some even may choose to write a mock epic on "The Rape of the Lock" (Alexander Pope).

Whatever your story of hair, I have yet a long tale left with me to braid....

Englishness (1)

There are things I don't like in the English and I am sure I will find enough occasions to grumble about it. For now, though, I really feel it 'right' to say what I like in English people. They are not pushy. There is genuine self-control in the majority of them. True, this may sometimes look like being cold, yet the bright side of it is that they let you live your own life. I like this a lot.