f's phrase of the week:

for me, cupcakes are like yoga--i don't know why they're popular

Confession is an act of violence against the unoffending.
-- tom stoppard, The Invention of Love

it's been 5 years since i read it, but even now stoppard evokes a shocking intensity of grief

!سال نو مبارک

my darlings,

wishing you all health, happiness, and peace in the new year

sending all my love, always

photo by f, haft-sin by p

как я люблю глубину твоих ласковых глаз,
как я хочу к ним прижаться сейчас губами

this disturbing article in the new yorker on whether or not it's "right" to imprison people--in this case, possible child molesters--for crimes they have not yet committed disturbs on a very visceral level. i can see no justification whatsoever..

exactly

دل نگران . [ دِ ن ِ گ َ ] (ص مرکب ) مضطرب پریشان حواس . که ترسد و نداند چون شود از نیک و بد. (یادداشت مرحوم دهخدا). چشم براه .منتظر. (ناظم الاطباء). مشوش سخت منتظر

a dream that i was suddenly homeless

i wandered down yonge street in the cold and passed a group of people who appeared to have come from a shelter. they had cups of soup.. bundles of clothing. i thought to myself that i will need this soon, although i wasn't yet hungry.. and i couldn't bring myself to ask... to accept the situation

i was on a bike, riding toward the guardrail, thinking how flimsy it was, and full of holes, and covered in snow... how anyone could just fall right off the overpass if they weren't careful

i lost control and understood.. acknowledged that there was nothing i could do...

it's quite beautiful that a simple apostrophe can make the difference between single and multiple..

update: thanks to f for reminding me: