His look...

Since you are pushing me to do it, though i really did not want to tell you this freightning nightmare i just had.
It is exactly what i saw, and since you all are my friends, I want you to take me serious and believe me when i say "I lived it".

It was all aout Bud spencer. A bunch of small asian guys had tied him in chains. he was beaten and already slightly bleeding.
I was there, so close that i was -at some moments- wondering if it is me getting turtured like this. It was almost as bad as being the victim. They bit him, hit him with pieces of metal, whipped him with chains and tried to enjoy each and every drop he bled, but they did not look satisfied. He was stianed with blood, turning his face to mine several times, and i was nothing but ASHAMED...

Then, they went tottaly crazy. they were hitting him with chains, even jumping over his body and stabbing him with knives and stuff. He was bleeding, i could see small pieces of his flesh falling and drops of his blood spreading in the air. Then, in the most active moment, where the small dwarfy asians where trying to make the hugest possible damage to his body, he turned his bearded face to mine, OH GODSS, OH I AM ABOUT TO CRY EVEN NOW REMEMBRING HIS LOOK, he looked in my eyes, with a kind of veiled smile of hope on his face that ruined my ...my everything. It was the most beutiful hing in that moment, Even his face was going back and fron, since they were hitting him harder and i could see the blood spraying from his back, and a short guy hanging from his chest...but he did not take his eyes from mine. He talked to me some words I cannot exactly bring to you. Strong...
You! my friends! you can easily get where all these nightmares come from...

و باز می گویم، نگاه عزیز بود اسپنسر نابودم کرد. شرم از ترس و شرم از تنها تماشاچی بودن، و در عین حال، باید در نظر داشت که تماشاگر یک کابوس، همیشه مجبور است و ناچار. نظاره اجباری و البته رایگان شکنجه -چنان که یک بار تجربه اش کرده ام- بشیر است و نذیر

گور پدر من و این نوشته و قلم. فقط بدانید، من خواب دیده ام، و شما شاید نفهمید

Song by Anthony and Johnsons; "Hope There's Someone"

"Because of metric system"

1.
Q: Excuse me sir, i'm new in US and not sure how much a Pound is.
A: Mmm, well it depends. If meat, it will be almost this much; if sugar, almost the same amount, buf if cotton, well it will be much mo...
Q: No sir. i mean how much does it weight? a Kilogram or?
A: aah, HAHA. It is almost half of it man!

2.
Q: Excuse me Ma'am, i'm new in US and not sure how much an Ounce is.
A: Well, it is almost this much if you pour it in a big pot, but will stay much taller if pour in a lab tube!!! I really don't know how to say it!!!!
Q: Ma'am, I mean how many cc or liters? For example, this beer can says 24 Ounces.
A: ahaaaa, i think it is quite enough to make me drunk. Ha haha.

0.
Q: It says it's gonna be 49 degrees Farenheit in Burbank tomorrow. How cold is it gonna be?
A: You can easily do it. All you need is to take your number and do some math on it. First, you should multiply 49 in...
Q: No no no. I mean, How cold really? should i take a coat or...?
A: Honestly it depends. If it was me, a long sleeve shirt was enough. If a desperate guy 10000 miles away from home, you probably need a fur coat with ski clothes under it. If you are that much away from home, and half of that distance away from MUSEUM QUARTIER in Vienna, i think you need leather gloves and wool hat too.
But if you are thouands of miles away from yourself, which seems to be closest to your situation, based on the dark picture i can -although- barely see in the depth of your beautiful eyes, I am afraid...

Q says nothing, except a cold Ahhh. Inside his skull, but, he sees the picture of his father as a young man with a young beautiful lady in red beside him, holding a months-old baby, who drives this shining dark-coloured Talbout 1967 among smokes dancing upon burning tires lying on tehran streets, deciding how to convince the young guys not to shoot them all. What bothers Q the most is that George Clooney was not famous that cold day in 1981; therefore no one noticed that much similarity between his father and him.
Thinking of this, tomorrow is a joke. Future is a Fancy Subject.
:))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

ya hoo= 110, Wien=1100

Let's make it short and fast. But don't worry. next post is going to fill you up. For instance:

Last night, in my dream i saw two guys standing in the street, about to light their cigarrettes, and they were kind of friends or sth, i asked them for one.
I started the cigarette and realized i have finished the whole cigarrette at once. no joy. i looked at the other guys' hands and theirs were just half burnt; like in real life.
I woke up, took my papers which i had to take to this office for medical insurance. Just realized how i hate a life without insurance, i.e. i am proned to love Obama, which is promising to give me one by the end of this year.
After all, when gathered the documents, i suddenly noticed the address written on the pocket used to hold them in, and i burst in a cry...

Wien...
Wien...
Wien...
Wien...
Ingredients: Lan[sencored]se, a sauserful of salty tears, a bunch of beer cans daily, a lot of painful meals, a lot of blue cheese as snack when you have red wine after two cans of beers and you cannot say for sure now, if you were alone or not, a lot of brand-new nightmares, a couple of bybys and "not now"s! p[sencored]

the truth that almost everyhting above is a LIE...


Conclusion:

• America is the place that even smoking cigarrette is a pie in the sky. Youcan dream about it!!!!!! You see people smoking in the street while they are hiding it some where close to their balls, accepting the risk of burning their stuff and make themselves sterile, in fear of a 100$ penalty for smoking, even in the strret or park or anywhere police can find you.
• A place in which you easily cry.
• A place that people don't let their children see people french kissing.
• The guy who told me bus comes every hour was wrong. it comes every 65 minutes. In Ghale hasan khan things are much more hi-tech.
• I might change my political views.
• The place in which i miss you
• In which you even miss yourself...

Most importantly:

• There is a small box of heart pills downstairs. The name of my uncle is written on it. his age is written on it. his address is written on it. The name of all ex-boyfriends of Fucking Pharmecist's wife is written on it. Their SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER is written on it. Too much freedom you feel by reading this. no feeling of being controlled. a lot of CRITICALY NECCESSARY things written on need, which need a lot of space. THAT MUST BE WHY AMERICANS MAKE THINGS LARGE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Did i say it is a short note?