me:me

Deema,

I apologize for treating you in such hostility, but you deserve it all. you expanded your heart widely and wildly for everything. I tried to draw proper lines on your face to remind you of your imprisoned notion which wants to emerge and explode in every minute, but you're still thinking of what material it would wear, in what disguise; in another baby as usual? or in a desperate flesh? or just a metaphysical power that will inverse your skin!

I know that multiplied realizations are highly saturated now in your mind. and I know how you hate colored images, and you want to migrate to parallelism where you can stay aware of all the influential forces over your drained body. But you have to learn how to dance, and how to sufficiently walk in a skirt and re-adapt your black mask in a windy day... or under our pail and dusty sun. deema I find you frustrating and dull and your drowsy eyes are just pushing me on drawing more lines on your forehead.

discipline is like glass camouflaged in water, and vice versa. always subtle, yet it has cautious sounds, so please, don't demote your touch. your diminution isn't making any change to your surrounding place, so be silent, be as usual against nature, and as usual legally illogical.