Monday, September 30, 2002

����� ����� �ێڵ

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��� ��������ی �ێ�ۆ��ی �ێ� ��� ڕ��ی �ێڕیی�.
���ی��ی ���ی ��
�� �������ی ���ی �ۆی�
�� �������ی ���������ی �ۆی� ������ێ�.
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" �坐�� �� �����ی� ��� �ێی�� ��� �
� �坐�� �ۆ�� �������ی �� ڕ����� �ێ�� ��ʡ
���ێ �� ��ی��ی �ی� ������ێ� � "

�� �ۆ�� ������ � ��ڵ����

Carlos Drummond de Andrade
��ی�.....................

Sunday, September 29, 2002

Carlos Drummond de Andrade


�ی� � ���� �� ڕێی �ۆ���ی��ی
�� ����� ���ی��� ��� ���-����
��� ��� �������ی ����� ی�� �����
�� ���ی �� �ی ���� �� �ی �ۆ� �ی �ۆ��
�����ی ی������ � �ێ��ڵ���� � ڕ���� ی��
�ێ�ی���� � �ی� � ���� ������� �ю�ی �����������

Saturday, September 28, 2002

Amor Natural


A love that cannot wait for bed

...... �ۆ���ی��ی-����ێ� �� ������ێ ����ڕێ �ێ� �� �坍ی�� ��� �ێ��

On hard floor, on carpet, rug

...... ����� ����ی ڕ�ޡ ����� �����ѡ ����� ��ڕ�

Our bodies weave the moist story's thread

......����������ی� ��� ����� ��� �یڕۆ�ێ�ی �ێ���

And to rest from love, we go to bed

...... �ۆ ������� ��� �ۆ���ی��ی-����� �坍ی�� ��� �ێ��.


���ی�ی �����ی�ی
Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Friday, September 27, 2002

�� ��� ������ی ��ڵ� ��� ��ی� �����ێ �����ێ�ی ��������ی��� �ێڕ�Ȑ�ی���:

�� ���ی ی���� ���ێ �ی�� � ��������� �坍�� �� ی�ߡ �ۆ ������ی �ێ��ێ�ی �ڕ �� �ۆ���ی��ی� ���� ��ێ� ڕ�������. ��э���� ������ی� ����� �� ������ی �ێ�� ���ێ�:

���ێ �� ی���� ������� � ������ی ڕ�� � �ی�ی�� ������ ��������� �����ی�� ��ێ������� ���ی �ۆ�ی �ی����� �� �ۆی ���ێ ������� ������ ��� ��ی �ێ�����ی.

�坐�� �ی����� �ی�ی ����� ���� � ��������� ���ێ�� �������� � ����� �ی����� ��ڵ���ێ�. �坐�� �ی����� �ێی ���ڕ�ی���� ����� ���������ی �ێ���ϡ ���� ��������� �����ێ� �� ��� �ی��� ���ی �坐�ڵ ����ێʝ� ���ڕ�� ������ �� ���� �ی�� ��������� �������ی ���ێ�.

Thursday, September 26, 2002

��ی�������� ... ی�� ������������ ... ���ێ��� �� ���ڵ�یی ... ���� ���� ����ی���ی� ����������ی��ی ���ی� �ێ������ ... �� ���ێ� �ڕێ��� ������ �����ی �����یی ... ی�� ���ی����یی ی��ی� �ۆ��� �坐�ڕێی���� �ۆ ����������...

Wednesday, September 25, 2002


Tuesday, September 24, 2002


- �����ێ �����ۆ�ی �� ����� ���ی ��ڕێ� ���� �ۆ ����ی�� ��ێ��ی.
���� ��ێ� ��� �� ����ی�����ی�� �� �ۆ� ����̝ڕ��ێ���� :

- �����ی �ێ��� ���� � �ێ���� ������� �ۆ� ����� .
- ���ێ�ی ����ی �Ǎ���� �ю.
- ���یی����ی ��� ���� �������� �� ��� ڕێی�� �����ێ�� ���ی� !
- ��ڵ� ���ی����� �� �ێ� �ێ� ��� ��ی�� ��ی� ��� ����!
- ���ی �ۆ �� ��� �ێ������ �� �����ێ� ����� .

* * *
������ �ێ���� ��ی��ۆ�� ������ی ������یǡ �� ����� ���ی��� ����یی ������ێ���ی �������. ���ێ��ی�� �� ����� �ǁ�ڕ�ی��ی �ی�����ێʡ ����� ��� ���یǍ�ی��ی �ڕ�� ���ی� �ۆ ����������ʡ ������ێ�ی �ی�ی ������� ������ ��ѡ ��΍�ی��ی ��ۆ����-ی� �ۆ ��ڕ��ێ������ �� ��ڵ� ���ی�����ی. �ǁ�ڕ�ی���� �ۆ�ی ��یی�ی �ێ�ێʡ ���ی ��ڵ��� � �����ی �ی��� �� �ێ�� ��ێۆ� ��ڵ.

�ی������ ��� �������� �یʡ ����� �ێ��ی ����� �� ����� ���ێ� �ی��� �ێ�ی��ی��� �� ������ی� ��ی�.

�ۆ� ������������������
�ی�� ���ی��


���ێ�ی�� �� ����ی� �� �ی���� �坐�ڕ����� ��ڵ���. �������� ��� ������ێ� ����� ����� ����ی ��ی��ی ���. �������� �� ��ی����ێ��� �� ��� ��ѐ�ی ���ی�ی��. ���� �ی���� �坐�� �坐�� ���� ȍێ�� ��ڵ��. ��� ������ ��ڵ��ی �ی � �� ��ی���� ��������. �������� ��ѐ�ی �������� �����ێ�ی ڕ��������� ���ی����� �ێ ����� �ێ.
�ۆ� ���ێ���ϡ ��ی�� ����ϡ �� �ڕ ���ی: �������. ������. ���ی : ̐���� ��ی坿 ��ی� ̐���ی��� �ۆ ����ێ��. ���ی: �ی�ی ��� �� �یی� �� ���� ���ێ��. ڕ���� ���ی�� ߍێ�ی �ۆ� ���� ��� ��ڵ�� �ۆ� �ێ��������. �ێ������ی ��� ������ ������ ���ی �� ��ڵ���ڕۆ�� ���. ����� ����� �� ��ی���� ���ی ������. ��ی��� ����� ڕ��ی ��� �ۆی� ������ی ����-���ی�� �����. �� �ی���� ���-������ی �� ��ی�ی �ی��� �ۆ ���� �ۆی�� ����ی����. ��ڵ�� ��ی����ʡ �ڵ���ی �� �ی���� ����ێ�. ���ێ�ی� ���ی�ی �ڵ�-����ێ�������. ���ی: ���� �یی� � ���� : �����. ���ی: ���ی �ۆ�� ی� �ی ������� ����ڕ��� �� ��ی��� �������ی ��� ���ی���. ����ی �坁ی �� �ی ڕ���ی ����������. ��ی� ��� ���� ���� ��ی����� ������� ��� �� ������ی ����ی���. ���ی �ۆ� ������� �ێ���� �ی�� ������ ��� ��ڵ��� ���� �ێی���. ��ی� ����� �������� ����� ���ی ������ی�� �ی���. �ۆ �ێ���� �ی��� �ۆ���ی ��ی�� ���������. ��� ���� �ی���ی ����� ��������� �坐�ڵ ��� �ی�ڵ� ڕۆ�ی ������ڵ �ێ��ڵ����. ��ی������ ���� ����ێ�. ڕ���������� �������� �ۆ ��ی ���� �Ǎی� ���. �� �ڕ ����ی ���� ���ی: ������ی �ی� �����ی �ێ��ێ��
�� ��ی���� ��ڵ��� ���� ���� � �ی�� ���ی�� ���.

������ێ� �ی�ی�ێ�ی �ۆ ������� ��ڵێ�: ��ی� �ۆ�ی ����ی ��ۆ���� � �ی����ڵ����ی �ی��ۆ�ی �ۆ�ی���� ������ ی�� �� �

���� ���� �ی�� �坍ی ���� �ێ��ی����ی� �� ���ی�ی ������� �ۆ� ����� ������� �ۆ�ی�. �ۆ�� �ۆ�ی�����.
��� ���ی��� ������ی ��ێ�ی� �ۆ ��ۆ����ی ȁ���. �ۆی �ی��ۆ�ی 98 ������یی�.
���� �ۆ�� ���� �ی� ... ��ڵ�� ��ڕ�ی �� �ۆ�ی���� ������ � ����� ڕ���ی �ی�ی� ڕ���ی� ������.

�� �ێ���� �������� ڕ�ی �ۆ �ی�ی� �� ��ی �ۆ ��эی �ێ �� �ی����

Sunday, September 22, 2002

��� ���� ������ �ێ���� �� �ی��ی� ی��ێ�ی�� �ۆ ��ی��� ���ی ��ی�� �ۆ �ۆ ���ێ �� ���� ��ی����� �ی�ۆی�
I told you I hate this Planet...

Saturday, September 21, 2002

��ی�� ���ی���ێ�ی ���� ���ی ��ڕ� �ێ�ی��� �����ی���:

�坐�� �ی�� ��ی ���ێ� ������ێʡ �坐�� ������ �ێ��ی ���ێ� ������ێ�...
���� ������� � ��������ی�� �ی�ی.. �坍� ����ێ� ����� ����ی �ێ��ێ� �ی���ڵڵǡ�� ���یی� �坍�� ������ ������ۆ�....��ی�ی �ی����� ������ی�����....

Friday, September 20, 2002

Hi mom, please let the firewall go through port 110 for outgoing mail... the comment system doesen�t send mails....thanx
Emrro beyani le rojnamey The Guardian.. shteki serinc rakesherim ber chaw kewit:

Julius Caesar:
` Beware the leaders who bangs the drum of war in order to whip the citizenry into patriotic favoure, for patrioism is indeed a double-edged sword. It both emboldens the blood, just as it narrows the mind. And when the drums of war have reached a fever pitch and the blood boils with hate and the mind has closed, the leader will have no need in seizing the rights of the citizenry. Rather, the citizenry, infused with fear and blinded by patriotism, will offer up all of their rights unto the leader and gladly so. How do I know? For this is what I have done. And I am Caesar.�

Thursday, September 19, 2002

what is wron with you? u really have to be screwed up to like this world... jeyus help me... I hate this... I say it: I love her, really very much , she makes me feel that I am a man nd I am alive again just like you, you living people. I love her with out conditions and without obligations.... but, really fuck this planet... to complicated for a child like me... I hate all humans...

I hate humans, i wish I was a chicken....... drunk again........ too hot ...... love you only my dear....

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

Sometimes...when I turn around, or when my world turns around me, when my goals are going with the breese... just wanted to say I love u one more time..if...if ?????
Just wanted to tell the hole planet about it if I could,
tell the sea if I could,
tell ? what?

Just want to tell Fuck this planet.. It doese not worth it... i immigrate to another universe with less complicated people...This world is really fucked up....
Xuda...
listening to Eagles and i am drunk..... Help... is there a god for drunk people?

fu**ing christ.....

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

take care , ...

Monday, September 16, 2002

God blees you, my PC is online again... Many thanks to my mother... Do not worry my mother will administrate the comment system and Kurditgroup.org for one week. Just be carefull, she will deletes the comments that she doese not like.....Thank you mom, I love you.....

Saturday, September 14, 2002

I wanted to publish a new bullshit story like always, but the notepad doese not work, and where can i download unipad, with kurdish keyboard?

Can you give my PC a hot restart? or do I have to wait for a wonder?

Friday, September 13, 2002

The server of Kurditgroup and the comments system is finally dead. Let us pray that someone reboots my pc.



I had a nightmare tonight, i was running from a city to another, the dead was chacing me every where, and i was with you, i woke up in my swet, i thought i went dead again...

Thursday, September 12, 2002

���ی �ۆی �� ���� ��ی ����ی� ������ی� ��� �坐�ڵ ������ ���ی� �ۆی� ������ ����ی ������� �ێ�坐��� �������ی� �ۆ��� ����� ������ی� ����� ���ی�ێ���� ����� �� �坁��� ����ی �ڵ���ی �ۆ ������ی�. ���ی������� �ۆ� �� ����� ��� ��ڵ�� �� �� ��ی��� ��ڵ��ی ����ی��� ����坐��������. �ێ���� ������ �ۆ. ����� ����� �ڵ���ی� ����� ����� �� ���� � �ۆی�� �ۆ� ڕ�� �� ������ی �������. ��ڕی ��ڵ�ی �� ��ی��ی����� ���ی�� ����� ���ی ߍی ��ڵ�ی ��� ��ی� ����� ���ʐ���ی�� �ێ ����� ���ێ�ی �����. �� �ی�� �Ǎێ� � ����� �� ��� ����ی �� ڕۆ�ێ� ���ێ ��ڵ��� �������. ����� ��ڵ ی��ێ� ���������� ��ی���:

�� �ڵ��� �ۆ ��ڵ�
�ڵ��ێ�ی ������ ��� ����ی ��� ���������� ��ڵ��ی ��� ����ی�� ����� �ۆ ����ی ������ی �ێ������. �坐�� ��ڵ��� ������ ���� �ێ� �� ����ی �ی���� ����ێ�ی �ێ���ی� �ۆ ��ڕ�. ������� �� �ۆ ���ی�� �ڵ� ��� ����� ������ ������ێ�.
��ێ�� ���ۆ� �坐�� �ێ� ڕ��ی�ی� ̐����ێ��� ��������� � �坐�ڵ ���� ��� ��ڵ������ �����.
�� �ێ����� ��ێ�ی ��ێ���ی �坐�ڵ �ی�ێ�.

-----------------

���ی������� �ۆ� ��������� ��� �ۆ�� ������ ��ی�� ߍ�� ��ڕی �坐�ی���� ی�ߡ �坍ی �ۆ�� �坁ێ������ ���ی�� �����.

����� ���� ���ێ�ی�� �ڕی����� �ۆ� ����ی �ۆ� ������ �������ی �� ���� ����:

���ی����� ���ی �ڵ��
�������� ��ی���� ߍێ�ی ���ی������� ��ێʡ �����ی �ێ�ی ��� �����ی �ێ�ی �ۆ �ێ�. ���� ���� ��ی�� � �坐�� ��� ������ ȝ �ڵ �یی� � ���یی ���ێ�ی �� ��ڵ��Ȏێ�ی�.

���ڕێ�.

-----------

�� ��� ��� ����ی� ���ی����� �� ��� ������ ��ڵ�ڕ�.


�ۆی� ��ڕی ���� ����ی ���ۆ�ی ������ی� ���ێ�.

���� ϝ��ی ߍێ�ی ���� Ȑ�� �ڵێ� �ی�
���ی�� �ۆ� ������ێ� �� ��ی�ی �������� ����� ���ی�ی Ӂی ����ڕ���� �ێ���� �یѿ ϝ�� �ۆ���� �� ���ی ��ی�坝 ��� ��������� ������� �� ���یѿ �� ����ی�� ���� ��� ����ʡ �� �����ی�� ����� ��� ����ʿ

------------
���ی� �� �����ی� ��� ����ێ ��� �ۆ ������ �� ��ۆڤ����� � �ێ�����ێ� ������ی� ��ی��ی �� ڕ�� ���ی� ���� �� ߍ� ����ێ� ����ێ�.


And He said: Sir, you may go now, you are pardoned...







Tuesday, September 10, 2002


When the qustions are the same old questions, when the answers are the same old ones, whem God stopped thinking, when I missed you , when I wanted to touch you , when my world was smaller than the distace between us, when the wonders left us, when we have no history and the future is a backwardness, when a kiss will be like a hell, when you taste it, when the walls push your heart, when the truth is nothing , just a big surprise, I wonder, if there is a hope,,, I donot know... since this began to happen , my inspiration is gone, and my words are changing colours...

Monday, September 09, 2002

�ی������ �����ی ���� ���������� Ȑ�ڕێ���� �ی������ ��������� ����� �ی����ێ���ێ� ���ێ� �� �ێ������� �ی������ � ��� �ی������ � �ی�� �ۆ� ��� ��� �ۆڕ���. ��� �ی�����یʝ� ���...
���ێ ��� ���ێ�� ڕۆ� �� ��ی ����ۆ� � �������ی �ڵ� � �ۆ��� ��� ��� �ێ�������... ��ی �ێ���� ..
�����������....
��� ������ �ی��� �� �ی� ���ێ�ی �� �ێ�ی��ی� �ێ�� ���ی�� ����� ��� ڕۆ��������� ����� ڕۆ�������...


GulaGanim, pleas ^be nice to me cause my heart is too weak. Jezus, no one likes good guys. I am not in Qandahar, I wish I was there. I just thought that some people care to know where i am. you are really mean to me.

Here am i again, sorry that my system doesenot let me read and write Kurdish.
And I cannot sit too long cause my ass and my back is burnt in the sun.
This place where I am, is only for very old people , zo after 23:00 there is no music, at the beach you see only old tits, and they speak only German, as if I am in Hamburg.
Even the music is too old, I hear slager-music, Elvis, and West-Virginia, California. And sometimes, Lady in Red, of Chris de Berg.


The site of Kurdigroup.org and the comment system is without administrator, so if my pc at home gets a crush, then we loose them for 2 weeks. Let us hope that my pc at home keeps it up. Let us pray, also for me.

----------
What if I say that I miss you , miss you like i didnot miss anyone else? What if I say that my destination is sending me to you? What if I say that you are unbelievably in my mind? What if I say .....?



What if I say that you are the one? what if I say : I need you ?


What if I say that I Love you?

what if cannot leave you go?
.

Saturday, September 07, 2002

���� ����� �� ���ێ�ی ��....

Friday, September 06, 2002



Maria Callas (1923 - 1977)


�� ڕۆ�ێ�ی ��� ����ۆ�ǡ 25 ��ڵ �������� �ۆ�ی ���یی ���. �یڤ�ی �ۆ�ێ�ǡ �����ی یۆ���ی� ������ی (���ی ����ی �ی����ی) ��ѐ����.
��ێ Ȑ��








Kurdish niggers will rule the world






This ? This is an old game I used to play, when I was much younger. But now, not anymore... as if I started from the end, counting back to the edges of pre-existence. Swimming in a space of no-directions, hearing your deaf footsteps � sometimes, it is too unbelievable to love and sometimes the same unbelievable love can take too much. It makes me sad, the things I said, and the things I didn�t say.
I was a master of this game, but when the game doesn�t look like the old one, when the players are not the same players and when I am not the one I used to be, there is no choice but surrender and quit the game.
May be you say: what the fuck is he talking about this time? But when your own feelings disappoint you, you�ll understand the fuck I am talking about. When your very small dreams become a nightmare and simplicity leads to you chaos �
I�ll be proud to be a looser �
I was a master of this game but not of my emotions�.
When you are not the master of your emotions, your chances are fucking zero.
It is very easy to say: let our fate lead us. Let the future play this game for us.
But excuse me I am not that person� ctrl+alt+del



Green Green Grass Of Home

The old home town looks the same
As I step down from the train
And there to greet me are my mamma and my poppa
Down the road I look, and there runs Mary
Hair of gold, lips like cherries
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home




------------------- Tome Jones -------------------------------

���� ���

�ю�ڵ



��ڕۆ� ��� ��ڕۆ� � ����ی�����
ڕ���ێ�� �ێ��� �� ���ۆ�����

�ۆ �ۆ �ۆ� ������� � �ێ�� ���
�坍ی �����ی� ��� �� ���� ���

�ێ���� ������ی ��� ����� �����
�Ǎی ���� ��ی �ۆ� �� �ێ �����

�������ی �ڵ� �����ی �����
���ی ������� �ۆ� �����ی �ێ�ێ�

���� �� ���� �� ���� �ی���
��ی� �� �ێ �� ��ێی ��� ����


.

aha . YOU ARE REALLY MEAAAAAAAAAAAAAN :P



I HATE YOU

Thursday, September 05, 2002



this photo was deleted by mistake
�ۆ� ���ی ���� ��� �� �ۆی�� �� ���ی� �����ێ� � �ی������ی�� ی�� �ۆ� �ێ������ ی��ی� �ۆ�ی�� �ێی�� �ǐ��:

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����� ���� ����� ��ڵ��� �� ��� �ی��ی �����ڵی �ۆ� �ۆ�� �ۆҐ� ��ێ�ی ���ڵ�����ی� ������ی ̐������� �ی��ی �ی����ی �ۆ �����. �� ��� ��ڵ ���ێ�ی �ۆ� �ۆ�� ���.
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Wednesday, September 04, 2002

Today i shaved my hair, completely, if you see you'll not recognise me...hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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Natasha St-Pier

Tu trouveras

Mes faux pas, mes maladresses
Et de l'amour plus qu'il n'en faut
J'ai tellement peur que tu me laisses
Sache que si j'en fais toujours trop
C'est pour qu'un peu tu me restes
Tu me restes



��ێی �ێȐ��

�ێ���ی� �ۆ� ������ ����ۆ� ������ ... �ێ� ��ی�������� �������� ...
ڕۆی���� ����� ����ی ���� ���ی� ... �ۆی �ێ����ی ڕۆ��ێ�������� � ��ی ���ی� ...
��� �ی����ی �������� ��ی� ڕێ�� �� ��������ی �坐�� ... �یڕۆ�ێߡ �������ی �ۆ ��ی�ێڕ���� ...
���ی �ۆ�ی ������� ���ی ����ێ�ێ���� �� ����������ی �ێ����� ... �坐�� �ڵێ� ���� � �坐�� �ڵێ� �� �ێ� ...
�坐�� ������ی �� ����� ���� � �坐�� �с�ی �ڵ� ��� ��� �с�ی��ی ��� ... �坐�� ...
�ۆҐ� ��ی� �������ی �����ی ��ڵ��� �����ڕی����� Ȑ�ڕێ����� ... ��ی �ۆ� ��ڵ���� ... ���ێ� ...
���ێ� ��ѐ���� ������ێ�� ���� ���� �ێ�ی������ �坎�ێ�ی� ����� ���ی�ی �ی���ی ��� �ی� ...
�ێ��� ��ی ����� ��ڵ�� �� �ێ� ��ӝ� �ۆҐ� ... ������ ...
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Tuesday, September 03, 2002


Two hours at the Victoria station



A traveller or a stranger, or whatever you think. Actually he was non of these. Two Victorian hours, that it couldn�t look like any other hours. While walking through the minutes of each hour and seconds of each minute the choice of staying or leaving was to be decided. Leaving everything behind or staying for some more moments. Talked and talked, got angry, laughed and lost any control. May be just few more minutes could change the destination. It got dark and darker, carelessly, looking outside the big windows of the station. Passengers leaving to all directions, while the only passenger who has no any direction is lost in a space of darkness. Fighting against each clock-tick. Loosing some and winning some. Wondering if there was a place for a looser at the Victoria station. Fighting on all fronts, sometimes attacking and now and then defending.
If I was a winner or a looser I couldn�t tell but I was Just waiting at the Victoria station.
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���� �ۆ���� �坐�� �ێ��� � ���ی ��� Ȑ�ڕێی���� ��ڵ���� ���������� ������ی ����������ێʡ ��� ����� ����ێ ���ی ����� �ۆ �ێ�ێʡ �Ǎ�����ی �ی��� �ی������ �ێ���ی�. ���� �ۆ�ێ ���� �� ڕۆ�ی ���ی �������ʝ� ���ی ��������� �ۆ���ی� �ۆ �ڵێ�. �� ��� ������ی �� ������ �ێ��� ��ڵێ�: �ی����� �� ��ێ�ێ �ێ��� �ێ�ǡ ���ڕۆ �ۆ��ی �ۆی�. ���� ������ �� �� ��ی��یی��� ����� �ۆی�� ���� �ێ�����. ������: �� �ۆ ���ڵ����� �������یʺ ��ی� ���� �ۆ ����ڕ� ��ڵ� ���ێ������� ������� ��������ϡ ��ی ����� ��� �یی�. ������ �� �� �ۆ� �� ����� ����ʡ �� ��� ������ی� �ۆی�� �� ����ی ������� �ێ��������. ������: �� ی��ی ��� �ڕی��.
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ی�� ������ ��� ������ (���� �ی�)� �� �ۆ�ی�ی ��������� ��ی����ی�� �ێ������. ��ڵێ�: ���� �� �ۆ ���ی ���ی �ۆ�ی-�ێی �ی���ی� ��ڵ�ی �ۆ�ی�ی-������� ������� ��� ��ǐ����. �� ���یی ��ڵێ�: ��э���� �ێ�� �����ی� �ۆ �� � ����ێ� ������ی� ��ڵ�� � �ۆ� ����� �ۆ����.

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Monday, September 02, 2002

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Sunday, September 01, 2002

���� �ۆ �ێ�� �� ���ی �������� ����ی��� �ۆ��� �یی� ���ی ���� � ��ѐۆ� ��ی �� ���ی�:
�坍ی �ۆ���ی ����ی ����� �����ی �ۆی ��ѐ�����
����� �ۆ���یی� ����یی���� ���ی �Ǎی ���� ���ߐ���� ��ی ������� ��ڵ�ی� �� �ۆ���ڵیی��� ��ی���ی���. ڕۆ�ێ�ی�� �ۆ���یێ�ی ����ی� �ۆ �ۆ��ێ�ی �ێ���� ڕ����������� ���ی : ��� �ۆ���یی� �� ������� �ێ� ����� 8ی �ێ���� ������ی� � ����� ���� �ۆ���ی �ێ���.
����: ڕۆڵ� �ی� �ی����� ���ڕێ�ی� �� ����ی �ێ�ی���ی ����ی ����� �� �ۆ� ��ǁ���.



R.E.M. - Loosing My Religion

Life is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no I've said too much
I set it up

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Every whisper
Of every waking hour I'm
Choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool
Oh no I've said too much
I set it up

Consider this
Consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failed
What if all these fantasies
Come flailing around
Now I've said too much
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream