mountainous heathen!











holly girl

jennyman

cyrus

boyk

sina boy

robert reich

honey jaan







Prufrock

If

Afraid So

Today's poem

~ Friday, March 11, 2005
 
twelve

so it's been twelve years since my famiy has been here. i sat up in bed this morning and didn't know whether i should be glad or not. should i even go through the usual trials and tabulations that come with reflections of such a day? sure, i can recount it hour by hour, as it happend in such a confused blurred eight year old fashion. but let's not. the number is well over half my life now, and i don't want to come to the conclusion that i'm more of this than i am of that. mainly because it's untrue, and partially because i'm tired of looking at it that way.

on sunday, nikolai was saying how a family friend who travels the world brings back persia from iran, but she brings back hollywood from paris. and how good it is to have a country like that. at which point i started my rant about how it's not for one to own anymore; it's more like having one sock on this continent and one in the other; the plight of the immigrant's mind, i said.

then he said something i hadn't realized before. he said "it's not about knowing where you're going, it's about knowing that you came from something." and i guess it's because the former you can never know for sure, and the latter you can never change.

now, suffice it to say the immigrant's life style sneaks its way into my mind as a regular topic even on days other than this, but today of all days, it takes over. and i'm unfortunately endowed with a memory of the smallest things that happened long ago. today, the first thing that popped into my head was my dai mahmoud (dai = uncle). because he was like a dad for two years. and then my dad, who prides himself in the fact that he got us out. and that i for one have no right to impinge on that and ask whether it was the right thing to do or not. i wasn't there. i was eight. i read the Sun. i need to remember always that i am able to read the Sun.


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