Where I Am

There’s a sort of ambivalence in the atmosphere here where I live now.

A sort of peace from the sky and the temperature and the surroundings.

Though it’s only late June, and summer has just begun, I feel as though I am somehow already in mid-August back in San Diego, where the heat defined the way we lived as it oppressed and beleaguered even the mightiest of wills. This new country lacks what hills I could hope to call Heights, and lows Valleys, and what’s more, an Ocean consistently tearing down and building up the Western Reaches of the city. An ocean at all would be something, but regardless what’s missing, it feels like home, and I can’t begin to say how wonderful it feels to finally feel like I might belong in a place.

There weren’t many days that passed without me thinking back on the life I had there, in the Garden State, on the Heights, by myself; there aren’t many days that go by when I don’t think about how life could have been had I stayed there, and stuck it out, fought through the sorrow and the anger, and the detachment from my family and those I thought I had loved and had loved me.

Now it seems some days come and go without me feeling like I’m missing something important from that life, from that version of me. I can’t begin to explain how I feel the symmetry, the resonance of this place and that. I still long for the Long Shores and the Cold Nights so full of Noise, but spent alone; the smell of steel and garbage so pure and heavy in the misty air, mixed with the salty sea wind; the laughter and the smiles of all my childhood past, the tears and the quiet shock, as well.

There’s something there.
There’s something here.
And here is where I am.

The Rest from Today

Here is the rest of the conversation from Today with @mikecollor, who is an Iran Nationalist, and possible Basiji. I bowed down to the situation, because there was nothing more I could say. But if he ever sees this, I hope he doesn't think I'm against him. I just want to be able to help, so I retire and withdraw to pray.

I Wish Someone Knew...

I wish there were someone who knew what was going on in this conversation with me. Someone who could stand next to me, and perhaps offer some sort of mediation between @mikecollor and I on Twitter... I feel like there are so many barriers, and Religion and the refusal to accept that people aren't out to get Islam, and the language barrier, and the fact that I'm kafir, or infidel, by defacto, and that seems right. I don't want the wars of our Fathers! I don't want the numb words, and the hollow hate, and the dim future just because that's the way "it has always been!"

I logged off today for a while, and when I came back, I found this:


It seems I'm a conversational target, or something. I hope things don't turn for the worse here...

Thick-headed

I've been arguing with this user... We are pretty sure he's a Government spammer. At one point he messaged me and called me a spammer, as well, and told me not to be shy.

The conversation has escalated, and he seems to be devoutly Shi'ite, though I can't be sure. Here is the beginning and the second part of the conversation. I don't know if it is over or not, but I just keep trying to keep it on topic of the Election situation in Iran, and not on Americans or Israelis (oddly).




And here's a snap of his profile header...

The Twitterfront

It's strange. I never thought I'd be so political. I never thought I'd use Twitter. I never thought I'd still be where I was, trying desperately to get out and get somewhere more "worthwhile"... or at least I thought...

It's strange how things can change faster than you can blink. Overstated, probably, but true enough.

I live in the United States, and not really in any place that would be considered "a great stay". Nothing much happens here, but this area is known world-wide for it's hands-on approach to world events. What's interesting to me though, is that all the things I hadn't thought would have a hand in defining me do.

This is a link to a blog where I was quoted from Twitter, where things have been heating up concerning the Iran Election on June 12, and the murder of Neda on June 20 (my birthday -- not that that matters, but it brings things into perspetive). You can read the entry here.

I want to do more. I don't know what to do. I want to spread the truth, but there's so much clutter in the atmosphere. I want to help. God let us help. Help them. Allahu Akbar.

Commandeered

I'm just commandeering this blog for a second (thanks to Chris -- sorry, love, but I felt the need to spread the word, and you've got a few readers more than I, I think... hah)

---

I found this link on Twitter, but I'm posting it here. Please... be warned, these can be graphic. However, we need to know!

http://tinyurl.com/ll8a9l

It's a link to another blogger put up by someone who can get access to videos of Tehran.

Daniel "`koa"

You Need To Know!

I found this link on Twitter, but I'm posting it here. Please... be warned, these can be graphic. However, we need to know!

http://tinyurl.com/ll8a9l

It's a link to another blogger put up by someone who can get access to videos of Tehran.

Daniel "`koa"

It's Time

Try to remind myself that I was happy here
Before I knew that I could get on a plane
And fly away from the road
Where the cars never stop going through the night
To a life where I can watch the sunset...
And take my time...
Take all our time... -- Sand In My Shoes, Dido

---

It's time again I changed where I am. It may seem sudden, but in truth it's long overdue. I wasn't supposed to be here for more than a year, and two years after that, I'm realising where all my problems are stemmed from.

To those of you who I will be leaving behind, I'm sorry. Yet, at the same time, I regret nothing. I've learned a lot in my time here, and I've loved a lot, and hurt a lot, and smiled a lot and cried a lot, but it's my time with you that's meant so much to me. You are a part of my life, whether we like it or not (and I think we do), and what's more, you are a part of who I am as a person. My heart always holds a special place for you, and I will think of you often. That being said, this isn't goodbye! We will see each other again! We will spend time together again; we shall congregate in the smoke-filled rooms and in the silent streets at night, in the bright lights of the city or out in the fallow fields of the country.

I love you as I love myself, and I think I always will. Please, be happy for me, because this is the beginning of my freedom, or the long-needed continuation of the rest of my life.