To my mom

I haven't been neglecting writing here. I actually missed coming back and writing but there reasons for the delay has been two-folds. One is that I had forgotten my passwork for entry into my own site for the past week and have been attempting several  times until I finally succeded. But secondly, and more importantly, I have been mostly observing things around me. So there has been many pictures of my experiences, people around me, objects, buildings, landscapes, movies, etc. Travel to San Francisco and then Berkeley has been one of the best experiences of my life time, unforeseening and unforeseemingly. I have come to see who I was in Toronto and Tehran from a distance. The space from Tehran and Toronto and then to San Francisco has always been in my unconsciousness and has always been directing my actions, dreams, behaviours, and language without having been materialized in reality. It's amazing how calm I have become. Is this love that I am feeling? I have found many things in my mind and have organized many events and languages and behaviours in closets that can be nicely categorized with no inconvenience and without having been taking for granted. Everything is justified and then some more. Sometimes, there's this immense feeling of missing my home and my mom, above all. A missing feeling that's never been found in my dictionary, heart, nor mind. A missing of all things I've missed and all things I haven't missed. I don't regret anything. No, I just miss. I miss alot, to the core, to the bone. My eyes become watery many times without knowing.