She writes and she writes good and she writes real. We've met somewhere in
the void of the net. May be on the referrer page of a blog or somewhere
among the bunch of comments.
Soie is her nickname. She owns a blog with black background and blue text,
which comes down on me like a mist of mystery anytime I visit there. It
reminds of the blue cafe in one of my daydreaming, the cafe with a shade
of blue all over the place where all the broken hearted people, newbie
lovers and romantic Don Juans gather.
It's just like seeing a woman with the wildest hair ever seen, in one of
the most lonely streets of Tehran in mid-winter snow; the urban eve who is
singing for herself and dancing to her own song.
"I like my hair, with all its shadows, all its rages..." (by Soie,
translated by me)
She writes free. She writes painful, she knows that "the real truth cant
be spoken" without pain.
Give her a visit....You might even visit Holden, Seymour and a few members
of Glass family here and there in her blue cafe, her blog.
Do you still think I’m beautiful now that the lights are on?
Do you think I’m the same girl now that the lights are on?
I don’t think that I’m the same girl now that the lights are on
Don’t bother to comfort me
I am comforted by the corner of lonely green walls... I am!
I am a woman now.(By Soie)