shirin bolourchi

Sun has gone black in United States of America and moon has gone black in Tehran.

[both sides are captured by darkness]

No one can look back on her school days and say with truth that they were altogether melancholic. I have perfect memories of my writing class among a horde of icky ones. I closed my eyes today, and I’m not going to open them for hours, probably till the next morning. I hear the music casting is in the air, it’s coming from the air conditionair behind my head. Recently, I conducted a sort of hopeless love affair with stars* and the only remaining  kiosk along the boardwalk in Venice Beach. There was the joy of watching late just watching, somewhat staring on summer’s nights and getting in an hour’s undisturbed drawings. Unexpectedly all my imaginations got destroyed by a blue and red rocket, since then I take sleeping pills every night. As a child, the things I most wanted to do were always unattainable. I had learned early in my life: I have the skill to let go.

[my room is captured by magic]

I see even with closed eyes.