Waiting for someone or something to show me the way …

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

– First verse of “Time”, by Pink Floyd.

That sums up a big chunk of my life. All of these years that I remember having control over my actions, I was searching. Searching for a true master, a master in all things. Someone who I could get lessons from, a wise one. Through the years I was honored to meet a very few people who were fitting in my definition of “master” but I don’t know if they were not it or I was not a good student that finally it didn’t work out.

I don’t want to, and see no reason to, go through the list and names of the ones that I seek as one. I would like to think that I was not a good student and god/universe/karma/whatever already presented me with different masters and I was not ready/good enough for them.

And no one knows how I need a master … a true one … someone who got it all figured out …


بزرگ شدنم را،
مدیون غروب‌های جمعه‌ای هستم
که به تنهایی گذرانده‌ام؛
حس وحی دارد


ز آنچه روزی در پی اش میرفتم

اکنون میگریزم

من بدان حالت رسیدستم که

با خود می ستیزم


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