During my pre-op visit to my ophthalmologist, I was fixated on the worn tiles flooring the doctor’s office, contemplating life’s complexity like chasing a slippery hen. Last weekend’s shroom-fueled haze left kaleidoscopic patterns on the tiles, that shit was playing with my consciousness.

The following day, as the surgeon cracked my eye open, a peculiar image surfaced. I wished he’d tear apart my heart instead of my globe.

Kneeling to my mom, holding onto my dad’s hands, I acknowledged the inherent truth – it’s time to understand and embark on a journey. Soon I’m going to fly.

Addressing my Guardian angel, I sought redemption for my losses, wanting them to be safeguarded until I reach my cross. Bearing the weight, a golden trick of the world. Like Jesus. Jesus! sometimes depression lurks from behind, living in the dark, like a monster under my bed. Living my life in Shiraz, partying every night, wondering how nature can be a motherf****r.

Reflecting on the gap in my girl’s teeth and the warmth I feel, trying yo express sentiments , the needle of truth leads me forward. Born with blue veins, destined to grow wings, and then to take off. Soon I’m going to fly, and finally, I die, alone or with a family, in my home country or a faraway land.

So, I think I am a lucky one. You, like your name, are from outer space, my star in a dark night.

In a realm where belief is scarce, I found rare happiness in the connection between you and me. Some claim truth springs for hardcore seekers, but I believe truth sings to whoever listens. Born with blue veins, attuned to the song of life, destined to grow wings, and then to take off, like birds and dissipating smoke. The image on the surgery bed: Your entire body illuminated like a star, shining with a metallic glow.

Weird it was to feel blind. My sight, what a valuable thing! Yet there you were, blinding like always.

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