آتش باید به صبح برسد. ستاره ها نرم و پاکیزه میان گنبد سرمه اى شب مى تپند و نورِ ماهِ پاشیده روى برف، چشم ها را مى زند. همان طور که لنگه چکمه ى خیسش را روى شعله ها مى چرخاند بوى ادکلن و انگشت هاى کشیده ى او را مرور مى کند. آن روزها که جوان بود و خیلى سفر مى رفت. روى زانو نشسته بود تا کفش هاى تازه را پایش کند. بعد -به سبک مخصوص خودش- از گشادی شان زیر خنده زده بود. باد از دوردست صداى قهقهه ى پدر را همراه مى برد.
they are all over the place! scattered, spontaneous, and very strange. he blocks them with his phone. Takes a deep breath; starts over. They move around and multiply making his head spin. the house floats in silence. nothing’s interrupting. no disturbances to turn to but the phone – which dies right there. Those damn batteries never last long enough. his feet feel numb. he tries to think very hard. is it fear or is it all the hours of fidgeting in the same awkward position. a crisp light shines through the blinds. he wonders what might be behind those windows if he were to look again. he knows it’ll be something different, and the thought terrifies him. he tries very hard to concentrate. they’re starting to surround him up close now, smelling like burnt sugar and freshly cut grass. they manage to fill his legs like a fat handful of wiggling worms. he doesn’t resist – reaching for the blinds. they pump through his lungs. there lies a purple lagoon surrounded by dead tree trunks. he can tell they’ve made it into his skull – right where he struggles to focus. the lagoon swells into a blob of color and chaos.
i let happiness take its time
for adrenaline to thrust
& fear to trickle – gently down my spine
lying wide awake & lost in thought
i take in the shiver
spreading to my gut
yet so it tells – everything can be fine
& thats one clear sign.
i let bitters rant
& the shallow to doubt
leaving them behind
as gate keepers question
what really is mine
green with envy, some choose to mock – some just swallow in, their utter shock
then there’s sweet jinky & her signature giggle
reminder to all that can be genuine & fine
senses running numb
i breathe in the white
fluid & divine
they swell & shine
& thats my other sign.
and this semi-officially marks the creation of my third short film :)
این هم آخرین کارم :)