کانسپتهایی وجود دارند که میدونیم که میدونیمشون یا میدونیم که نمیدونیمشون.
اما از یک طرف، چیزایی هستند که نمیدونیم که نمیدونیمشون. اینها تریگر کنجکاوی و اشتیاق درونیموناند که بریم، کشف کنیم و پا به دنیایی بذاریم که حتی خوابش هم نمیدیدیم وجود داشته. اینجا یک بخش کوچیکی از مسیرم برای کشف اون دنیای جدیدم رو میذارم.
[این قدیمیه]
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اینجا قرار بود اول یهطور دیگه باشه، ولی جنس دغدغههای من فعلا عوض شده و اینجا هم تغییر کاربری داد. الان خیلی رندمه.
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اما از یک طرف، چیزایی هستند که نمیدونیم که نمیدونیمشون. اینها تریگر کنجکاوی و اشتیاق درونیموناند که بریم، کشف کنیم و پا به دنیایی بذاریم که حتی خوابش هم نمیدیدیم وجود داشته. اینجا یک بخش کوچیکی از مسیرم برای کشف اون دنیای جدیدم رو میذارم.
[این قدیمیه]
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اینجا قرار بود اول یهطور دیگه باشه، ولی جنس دغدغههای من فعلا عوض شده و اینجا هم تغییر کاربری داد. الان خیلی رندمه.
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Once, I loved someone so deeply, it consumed me.
When he left, the world collapsed inward.
Every sound was a shadow of his voice.
Every cell in my body called for him like a prayer unanswered.
I lived in the dark—
not sleeping, not waking, just aching.
Letting go was not a choice.
It was a descent.
Like sinking into the underworld with no promise of return.
To survive, I had to meet the pain at full force.
To match it with fire.
And so I burned.
I let the girl who loved him be undone.
And in that ash,
past the longing, past the silence,
something opened.
I didn’t find peace.
I found divinity.
Not the gentle kind they preach about—
but the raw, sacred force that lives beneath the skin.
The God that waits in ruin.
The light that arrives only after everything else has died.
That was the beginning.
That was the miracle.
He was not the loss.
He was the ritual.
The blade the gods placed in my path,
so I could bleed, break,
and awaken the divine within.
-Prsphnlia
When he left, the world collapsed inward.
Every sound was a shadow of his voice.
Every cell in my body called for him like a prayer unanswered.
I lived in the dark—
not sleeping, not waking, just aching.
Letting go was not a choice.
It was a descent.
Like sinking into the underworld with no promise of return.
To survive, I had to meet the pain at full force.
To match it with fire.
And so I burned.
I let the girl who loved him be undone.
And in that ash,
past the longing, past the silence,
something opened.
I didn’t find peace.
I found divinity.
Not the gentle kind they preach about—
but the raw, sacred force that lives beneath the skin.
The God that waits in ruin.
The light that arrives only after everything else has died.
That was the beginning.
That was the miracle.
He was not the loss.
He was the ritual.
The blade the gods placed in my path,
so I could bleed, break,
and awaken the divine within.
-Prsphnlia