at the end of the day I'm just another young man looking at his reflection saying i need to write more, i need to read more, i need to learn more, i need to do more

you came so close and some broken part of you caressed some broken part of me. It felt like magic, felt like art. you awakened and nurtured an old dying hope in me so beautifully not even my awful rage could kill it. believe me i tried, everyone tried and although it's deeply wounded it just won't die, unless it's you who wants it dead, then i would hunt it down. cause for you even becoming a villain is not enough appreciation.

guys i don't want to turn 20 and not be kissed once? one of you step up for the task?

not only that i keep receiving calls in front of this goddamn new coworkers ???

So i changed my ringtone to this as a joke and I've been receiving like 8336946393691 these past few days and it never fails to jumpscare me

هنوز بیست سالم نشده ولی حس میکنم بحران بیست سالگی از الان خِرمو گرفته.

sometimes i even doubt if it's there as a twin of my devotion. it seems to have a strong bond with my need to devour and love. or perhaps it's the root of my unlovable-ness. perhaps it's just some wounded part of me. whatever it may be it has a connection to my tenderness. i crave to be gentle because of it. to control myself, to remind myself to not be cruel.

I don't really know how to capture this extreme violence i feel in me. It's not towards others. It's not towards me. I won't let it cause harm. It just sits there like a wild untamed animal in a cage, yearning, and for now words are the only thing i can feed it. It feeds on the blood dripping from my written and unwritten words.