After thirty years?
Well, I’m 39. But why do you ask such a stupid question? They say age is just a number. I know the last time I painted, I was in school. I used to paint only aircraft and helicopters. But who cares? My website was filtered for some reason I don’t know.
A few days ago, I quit submitting posts on Instagram. I think people are inferior creatures who only care about their stomachs and having fun in this unfair world. A man used to fell in love with a fiancee. Those were the days when I thought they never end. She told her lover that she will go crazy whenever she looks at the sky with the full moon.
I wanted to stay a nine-year-old kid. I wish I wouldn’t grow up at all or may die while I was a kid when Iraqi fighters were bombarding our school. Sadly I survived and suffered a lot. I have seen the moon in different colors, blue, white, silver, orange, yellow and even red. But in winters I think the moon is sick, with a yellow color.
I may paint helicopters and jet fighters again. But tonight, I wanted to paint something with my tablet. I cannot see the moon from here. I don’t know if the moon is in the sky or it is hidden under clouds or the towers, but at least I can think about it, I can imagine the yellow sick moon of the winter.
So-called emotions that people call them love will vanish within a few months or one or two years. But true love will never end. It remains to make you nothing but ashes in the wind.
هزار سال پیش؛ شبی که ابر اخترانِ دور دست می گذشت از فراز بام من صدام کرد… چه آشناست این صدا! همانی که از زمان گاهواره می شنیدمش همان که از درون من صِدام می کند. هزار سال میان جنگل ستاره ها پیِ تو گشته ام… ستاره ای نگفت کزین سرای بی کسی کسی صدات می کند؟ هنوز دیر نیست! هنوز صبر من به قامت بلند آرزوست. عزیز همزبان، تو در کدام کهکشان نشسته ای؟ (سایه)