غمگین گشتم، یک غم شیرین.
غم شیرینم داریم نه؟
داریم لابد. نمیدونم.
دقیقه‌ی 01:23 ـش. (اموجی قلب شکسته)

چند بار به فکرم رسید که چشمهایم را ببندم بروم جلو اتومبیل، چرخهای آن از رویم بگذرد، اما مُردن سختی بود. بعد هم از کجا آسوده می شدم؟ شاید باز هم زنده می ماندم. این فکر است که مرا دیوانه می کند!

صادق هدایت

چی بگم والا.

امشب ماه زیباست.
برید پشت بوم یه نگاهی بهش‌بندازید.

i thought you were a painting at first,
with the way those dyed eyes matched mine,
with lips as full as a novel and as red as lower worlds,
made me think you were a painting--of something most divine.

i thought you were a painting at first,
with the way those small hands rose as mine did,
with the way those lips tasted of cookie dough and warm sugar,
with the way those eyes never seemed to leave me for naught,
and abandon me in lakes.

i thought you were a painting at first,
when i approached and eels ignited my mind--
with the thought--the picture-- the painting of you, O dear,
and set my mind within seas--clouds--of gladiolus's.