در سرم فریاد می زنند واژه ها
۱۳۸۹ اردیبهشت ۳۱, جمعه
these could be written not
You think I don’t know you but I know that I do .
I didn’t want to write it down but since all I have done till now was useless , I am going to experience one other failure . Not writing is as useless as writing.
You know my infirmity as a girl and you use it to reach what you want to and this makes me hate myself but believe it from me your life is not chess and people in your life are not mans . not always you can reach your goals this way. Maybe I am dumb but my experiences are not few and my life was not a simple one . we are all going to die and the only true manner is to live like an artist The more artistic the more beautiful.
