Whatchamacallit

نمی دانم که آن بت را چه نام است

The first thing that used to come to my mind in such occasion like the one I am in now (some sort of confusion) is to seek out the reasons. But as far as I have experienced, 'this' is absolutely ridiculous and absurd, 'cuz the most recent life-experiences, especially the sad ones, are the farthest you can go back to and think of. And I mean only "SAD" ones because why would you think a happy experience could have caused a melancholy like the one you're going through?

Thus, from not long ago, I gave up delving into my past in a desperate attempt to psychologize myself. Now the only domineering idea I have is, "why the hell did I choose to think?" (Please don't make the fatal mistake of taking this as one of the articles which writers write when they get a writer's block or one in which an intellectual writes in a way that you think they are really saying something important when they are not). Because first of all I'm not a writer and definitely I don't have anything important to say and to top it all off, I never considered myself as an intellectual.

By 'thinking', I simply mean trying to understand "why?" or "why the hell…?" if you please. Just for the sake of making examples, "WHY should a nation try as hard as it can (for over a century) to be free or democratic, not as much as these terms mean in philosophical books, but just to be left alone in choosing the clothes they feel like wearing?" Don't worry; I don't plan to go all political on you. Like I said this was an example.

There are moments in which I think this must be a curse, an omen, something like a hereditary disease, this word "why?" (No, seriously! why doesn't it go away and leave you live your life and let you be?) With all due respect, I guess my foreign friends, who are reading this, may not sense what I'm talking about? They may even think I might have gone crazy or something. They might even say "How can thinking be bad or how may it cause you suffer?" Well the answer is as simple, and simpleton, as it gets. You have to live in a country like mine to understand 'How'; or a country like Kundera's or Llosa's, or Kieslowsky's or… well how many other examples do you need? I got plenty.

But this was not what I wanted to say. Well, you have been warned, haven't' you? And to add insult to injury I don't even know how to continue this, not that I don't have anything to say, but that it's 12 P.M. and I have 5 classes (of an hour and 45 minutes long) tomorrow. So I gotta go and sleep. I may continue this later, or may not, who knows? Meanwhile please drop me some comments on this and tell me what you think about "why".