When it hurts, I know it is there

I just hit my head, accidentally, well, the accident was coming. I hope a hillside beach club will not be formed on my forehead. I wish I could receive a phone call from you, when you read these lines, Ms. Zair. My head aches a lot, my heart is same. If they don't ache, are we gonna know they really play a crucial part in our lives. My head aches a lot now, and there is no ice in the office, I try to put a glass of cold water, touching the glass part. My head aches now, and I hope you are safe in my brain. Maybe I lost a few brain cells, and...
I contacted your sister for a job in Baku, but no response yet. Of course, she is busy with her newborn baby, I am dying, what a pure dilemma in my life. Recently, a Turkish journalist died in Baku during his trip. The cause was heart attack. He had a quote saying he would want to die in Baku. May Allah bless his faults, give "rahmet".
I want to get old with you, and I will keep repeating myself. You have your own choices, I don't know which dressings you would like to use for your own salad. I ordered Turkish Salad, but they have Italian, as well. What do you admire most? I admire you, really. I am losing my patience, I am ready to sell lemons on Baku streets. I would register a company, and begin selling lemons on the street. I would just require a studio apartment, even a rental room with a local family will be acceptable. I just want to breathe the same air. I would repeat this as well. Now the electricity is gone one more time, but now my laptop battery works, yeah I know, my battery is interesting. My head aches, and I don't know who will look after me in Baku. I wish to know, but nobody tells me. I hope to find peace in Baku, finally. But, my head keeps aching, and I don't want to see balloon shaped head on the mirror. I am hopeful, I am optimistic. I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I can see the train coming to me. I wish I can come to Baku with train, it is still under construction, I guess I will take the flight. Will it be one-way, or round trip, of course no choice. I shall keep one of my legs in Istanbul to check my folks. I miss you so much, and I guess I will start lobbying with people who knew us. If they also tell you how much I adore you, will things be different? I know your angry moments, and I know sometimes it passes away. This time, you were certain, maybe I just don't want to admit the truth. I would take the streets of Baku as New York City. Don't worry, I have no limits in my imagination boundaries. No limits for other things, but here is not the place to talk such topics like that. One small short and slim quote from my brain, whatever is left after I hit my head. It keeps giving me error, lack of Zair, lack of Zair. I take my vitamins each day, I can easily replace milk with Calcium organic vitamins, vegetables with daily vitamins, fish with omega vitamins, I just cannot replace you in my diet. I keep trying, but the journey is coming to an end, and I am coming to your boundaries. If I can walk on the same pavement you walk to your office, I would feel priveleged to face the cold winter, no worries. I will keep preparing myself mentally and physically, I am just not sure if your sister will be able to help me. Because, I have noone in your land, but I am ready to be nobody in yours faithfully, sincerely, kind regards, beautiful words, cozy street lights, dreamy eyes, comb-me hair, sweet cheeks, kissable lips, all of you...

Deep Note: Today was not a good day at all, not productive, but mentally thought-provocative. And, I hit my head. It should be a pleasure to witness the evolution of this book, so called, Zair and me (Cafe).

Warning: The narrator has no association with the characters in story. His only wish is to be inspiring for new couples, love lovers, movie makers..

Thanks to Feedjit, new widget in my blog, and dear world, I love Zair, sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much!!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel like I am in prison. They only give a piece of laptop, not to do lap dance, but do some mind dancing. What is it? It is about mining, thinking about what I did wrong that they put me in this lonely prison. Of course, I am not talking about real, square room, iron bars, securities, cameras, etc. I am talking about the "real" prison feeling in normal life. If my heart is chained, and my mind is locked for one special girl, I cannot think of any future for my kids. I am thinking about a happy life, with a love marriage, not monetary marriage. Look at your surroundings. How many families are able to give their kids needed time? We are all in a rush. I am personally in a rush as well, to build up my life financially. But, during this rush, Zair misunderstood me, and took me as someone who doesn't care about her feelings. Her feelings of loss. I have no power left to struggle anymore. I contacted her sister to arrange somewhere to live in her city. As long as I breath the same air, it is OK. At least, I would improve my common senses with her. Currently, I feel that we still love each other, and our hearts beat together, so this is one sense. Second sense would be the air, same air we will breath. I have no doubt if we may improve this further, but I would be satisfied to keep my struggle and aim further. I am optimist and realistic. I don't deny the past, but I cannot wait for the future. This present time is a struggle, and thanks to the new widget in my blog, I just saw her entry from Azerbaijan. Maybe, she told her friends about this place of sadness, place of sorrow, dancing floor of broken hearts. Still, there is news from her country, by this special visit. I feel like hearing from my folks supposedly I am living lonely in a desert. No communications, but somewhere over the mountains, a call is coming, like the call of the prayer. I miss you Zair, I wish I can see you when you visit this blog. I wish I can put my eyes on this blog, so I can record your beauty further. I threw away all your pictures, videos together. I regret. I have nothing left, only one picture from your recent visit to Turkey. Shame on me. Stupid me that I forget all the time to record beautiful moments. But it is OK. As I thought before, all memories are recorded in my mind, my beautiful mind. Allah forgives our sins, we deserve a future together. A future happy, healthy and horny:) No of course, the last word is joke, we need to smile sometimes, so don't forget, smile to the camera, and say Cafe, no Cheese. I say Zair to the camera, when they take a picture. You know, I know. Now, everyone knows.

Bridge now with the past, then walk away

Reading Paulo Coelho is always inspiring, and here we are lost again as soon as digesting one more chapter. Now far away from the beginning of the book still in the midst of awakening. Mr. Coelho is wondering about his trip to Santiago, the one in Europe, not in Chile. I am wondering about my trip to the US, and still making some connections about the recent actions with past behavior. I guess, the key is not taking one journey and write about the experience. It is the connections, unlike the transfer flights, this takes less time. It is a mind game, essentially, nothing fancy. Not a beduin of arabia, playing chess without any tools, mind chess..It is needless I guess to put Cafe on one side and attach the first two chapters of Coelho's book, Zahir on the other side.
The size of the wordpad was too large, so I minimized it a little bit, sorry for folks watching me from my back, they will not be able to see me right now. I wish there will be a transference mechanism for my thoughts, because many great thoughts are going to recycle bin in my brain. I directed those smart cells to watch the door, but Zair already poisoned them with love that they don't care about the security any more. Many great ideas are taken to the trash can, although I would litter the street with such ideas, so I can come back and pick them up, collect them and seize the opportunity cost for them. The kind of women I dreamed forever, left me suddenly with some foolish memories, now telling me read the book of Coelho called it Zahir, I am calling you Zair darling, what shall I do to begin with? I take my vitamins, and getting better each moment after every hour. It is like bribing the time machine, give me one extra minute after each cycle of hour, so I can think of Zair without getting late to work, or to brush my teeth, or to go to bed. Tardiness is a bad habit, not as bad as smoking, since it kills your lungs, and everything in your beautiful body. I never tried it, but I heard you did for once, or maybe twice, that's it. I tried to kiss you, thanks to your cheeks, they were fresh as sweat caramela. The doctor recommended me to add extra sugar to my Cafe, but you insisted that the amount of glucose is sufficient in your cheeks. I dreamed about you last minute, it was not like missing the last train in the last second. I don't think of you for a second, maybe for once, then I make it a minute. Wait a minute, where are you now, I was just talking to you? You told me to wait, now you are the one who is on the wanted list. I cannot call you, neither I can check if you are tracing me. Only your sister may shed some light to our future, since I have no idea about your presence and your surroundings.
Considering the trip to the US, and evaluating the impact of four years without hearing from her, it is an matchless comparison between the Santiago trip. If I have a chance, I would close my eyes, and ears, just wait for the water coming from your mouth, heated up with your heart, and as a courtesy of your passion, I would accept your apologies. Now I am alone, feels like in the middle of the desert. Literally, looking for an oasis, still dark outside, shall I wait for you to come down from heaven. You are the candle, you are the source of light. As Coelho says, you are the reason of my presence in this ordinary life. Yes, it is true, we are responsible for our parents, and have duties to Allah, and we have some obligations need to be submited to our countries. We believe in same Allah, we have different countries, so different families, and at the end we love each other. Think like this. Draw a line from the point A, the beginning. Then, take the first line up, and the other down. OK, I admit it, I would stay in the bottom, so I can watch you, it is a shame to look at you from above since I don't see myself skilled and experience in this business. The business so called, our careers, I applause your career efforts, whereas, mine has sinus and cosinus all the time, if I can find some tangent, thanks so much. Keep drawing the lines, pass the point B and C, and then join them at the end of the route, point D.

Dear Darling Sweet Heart, Honey Bee Melon, Tea Corn Sugar, Mickey Mouse and his fiancee,
Promise me that one day we will read these drafts together, just like Coelho's 10th draft becoming a book, and published 3 times. I would donate all the money I would make from making our love an ever inspiring book for the rest of the world. I would donate the money for a cause, and spend some time in places where people are starving for love.

Thanks to Allah, we have our families, and Allah bless them all, everyone's loved ones, their families. Each human-being is precious. And, you Zair. You carved so many memories in my whole-being, nothing could erase you from my body, soul, and mind. Please continue to work on some other formulas to cleanse yourself from me. In the meantime, I will buy more sticky notes to decorate the streets you are passing by from your apartment to work, and back. Each sticky note will have one letter on it. The first letter will be Elif, the name of our first children, inshallah.