سهشنبه 8 مرداد 1392 ساعت 04:58 ق.ظ
Dear Lord (now I don't care to call you by what name),
I'm missing you a lot. I feel I'm not thinking of you enough in my life. Come back to me, show me, in a new format.
Or maybe you're here already. Maybe my eyes can't see you. Or maybe they can, they just don't know how to interpret you. It's like sometimes you're like a romantic life, where one has to interpret it in a certain way to make it work, to make it "feel" (Gosh I used to have so much issues with this "feeling" when I met that New Age dude... and the Suphies perhaps).
You know, it's time for all this bs to pass by. It's time to go through. Or maybe it's time for a fresh start. Maybe not. I don't know. It's funny, sometimes I don't even know what to ask. I don't even know if I should ask anything. Perhaps the concept of my asking has changed...
But I ask you, deep silence. I ask your presence. I ask your presence in form of silence. So I shall be silent.