Skip to content
October 26, 2012 / Shayda

October 4, 2012 / Shayda

so long no seen

I finally managed to drop by, I missed being here, there wasn’t a day that didn’t wish to come back, but I was so tired like I’ve never been before.

And now I was too sick to go to work (and also too sick to be posting here) so I am here.

You know I’ve started a new life, a new job, something that had never crossed my mind as a job that I might be doing someday.

I’m afraid my sentences don’t make much sense now cuz I have this fever and I can’t manage my thoughts, but I’ll be back soon, of course if I could get passed this fucking Flu.
But before I leave, You must know I am so much better now, things have changed a lot IN A GOOD WAY.


August 9, 2012 / Shayda

I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle…

You know after 8 years ( whoa! ) I was again riding my bicycle while cross-dressing looking like a young boy, It felt really good, I was free and fast, and it also felt real till I woke up in a cold sweat.

I used to ride in quiet places which is hard to find if you live in Tehran. There is this quiet street close to home with smoothest pavement which makes your ride like a flight if you are fast enough.

In my dream I was in that street again, it seemed remarkably wide though, a warm summer evening at dusk. And I was not so fast just enjoying myself and wondering what had stopped me doing this for so long, and also thinking how come the streets are so empty! till I see someone with a uniform probably a soldier riding a motorcycle who turned into one of the alleys and disappeared, and I thought this might be one of those pro-government march scary days that streets go empty except for the marching zones and once in a while armed militias roam in some streets, and all these anticipations had already made me uncomfortable till I felt someone spying on me and all of sudden I reached to the end of the street where I normally would turn around and go back, but knowing that someone had been fallowing, made me keep riding to unknown streets and eventually I got lost. I’ve never been so scared in my life, every corner looked alike and all alleys seemed to be blind but I managed to go somewhere and hide till he thinks that I’m gone and leaves me alone. And now I’ve learned my lesson that it was not a smart idea after all.

I was hiding behind an old tree and suddenly the annoying sound of the motorcycle’s slow ride stopped, and all I could hear was my own heavy breathing which turned to a muffled scream after I felt being dragged by him, I couldn’t fight back it was like I’d lost all my strength which was the worst thing ever.

The next thing I know is that I am in a dark wooden dungeon and my host is this fat short funny soldier, he was like a cartoon. He could not rape me or anything since I was stronger, things just got ugly and also ridiculous between us, the worst part though was that I couldn’t get out of there, it seemed like I was stuck there forever with a filthy little man around who by the way was not at all disappointed to find out that I’m a girl.

Last things I remember are interfering images of me running around with crippling legs to find a hole or something that connects me to the freedom outside; panic attacks, my trembling body on the wet wooden floor and shortness of breath which continues till I finally find my way back to the waking world where there is also air to breathe.

I’m trying to somehow interpret  this dream ever since I’ve waken up. I believe that I haven’t gone through such pain for no good reason. I’m not saying that this was my worst nightmare ever, no I’ve had worse, much worse, but they were all somehow metaphysical forces or at least didn’t feel this real.

What makes this dream dead scary, is that, it could easily have happened to me, and I believe I have experienced it in some levels.

As a little kid I  was abused by a middle aged man on a motorcycle in a very quiet alley, he just slightly touched me for a second and left but ever since I have a phobia of the sound of a motorcycle approaching from behind.

I used to ride my bike looking like a girl first but people kept focusing on me while riding which I hated and once some boys kept following me, you know just for fun, they never left me alone, it was nothing but a fun game since I was faster than all of them, but the reason that I never sat on that bike looking like a girl was this traumatic memory: I was 11 or less, tired after playing all day long, walking my bike innocently, you know, enjoying myself, suddenly out of nowhere a decent 30-something man comes along telling me that something was wrong with my bike and God I loved that bike, I was like: where? what? looking at the place he was showing  while taking advantage of me. and the moment I felt that,  just jumped at my bike and flied away but after a while I noticed him following me driving a car to kidnap me probably. I guess that was the first time my breath came short. I still can see myself panting, standing up while riding  in that dusk  till he finally lost me in one of those narrow alleys.

I thought I’d forgotten about these, but it seems I am forced to deal with past, right?

Should I  ride that bike in that damn street wearing a scarf and everything? nowadays a girl on a bike is not as revolutionary as past , you can see it everywhere, it’s pretty common.

The last time I crossdressed was 8 years ago, riding my bike on streets. all these years I’ve cycled in Chitgar park that has special, sex-segregated lanes, and I really enjoy this safe public area for women, one of few places you can wear a tank top and fly on your bike with your hair dancing around.

I had forgotten how I used to enjoy crossdressing, maybe I should try that again? I’m not sure.
The only thing that I’m sure about is that I gonna have a tough night, even going back to my bed connects me to that nightmare so I’m trying to avoid it which can explain this so called “post”.

*Thanks to Scott Polk for this image

August 8, 2012 / Shayda

Everybody knows

You were born alone

will live alone , die alone.

And no one will ever reach out to your heart, while you




or           die         in there.

And that’s how it goes.


August 6, 2012 / Shayda

Such a chill





Is it ok to feel cold, really cold, in one of the hottest days of summer?

smoking ain’t no good even to stop teeth going crazy chattering for just a second.

And it doesn’t matter how hot it is, tears still can turn to ice on your cheeks.

August 5, 2012 / Shayda

Back to Nothing Special

Yes, he is gone and I am all tired and so not excited for what is to come.

About all my plans about planning, he planned them to go to hell and burn there for all eternity which I thanked him for.  I can’t believe how I turned out to be one of those annoying square minded grown ups, I just saw it when I was reading my stupid list of different activities to do in our time and he got all bored and looked at me probably the way he must’ve looked at his silly teachers.

I saw it, me the former school hater, with my sad little list of ” To Do “s, narrowing down the chances of special unexpected moments. It doesn’t matter how I hated them, they’ve got what they wanted, I am as boring and predictable as the school is. No, I almost Was, he didn’t let me, with saying: “I wish I hadn’t come here, Its gonna suck, you’re not going to play with me!”
After that I didn’t say a word, was pretty shocked and sorry, he continued by consulting me and mentioning some stuff to do and generally telling me to let it go and live in the moment.

And we did. I’ve got to tell you his way was a lot more sophisticated than mine, he wanted to set up an art exhibition with his hand-crafts at our roof and he even made some expensive tickets for visitors. I never told him that it’s not gonna work and ppl don’t know the value of true art here cuz I wanted him to follow his dream and also be occupied, but now I feel guilty for letting him down and leading him to literally see his dream die. I later made it up to him though with a cheap grown up technique: Distracting!

Although we didn’t do much except for that exhibition thing, we did have some special moments, like the first sleepless night, that he opened up to me,  one if those crazy talks in the darkness of night while floating above your bed with your sleepless dizziness and the only thing that finally brings you back to earth has to be the silvery orange rays of dawn on the wall.

Another special memory (at least for me) would be the image of us running and carefree laughing in the subway hallways to catch the last train to home after hours of playing at the park, just like two free vagabonds. For just a little while I really believed I was happy, and I think this will be MY hard time type memory!!!

I don’t think this was his best weekend(not even close!) and now I don’t see why I wanted it to be!  He is only seven he’s still got time before going behind the Veil of Familiarity, and a couple of years at school can’t ruin it.

August 1, 2012 / Shayda

me, myself and I

I am all excited about this weekend (Iran’s “weekend” begins Thursday and lasts until Friday night) because my little friend, Manni will stay with me. He is my seven year old nephew, and we have a lot of fun every time he is around.

I’m trying to have some plans this time.  I believe  in what  Queen says: ” what is planned is boring”  but a little bit of planning shouldn’t kill us, especially when summer (kids enjoy 3 months of summer holiday in Iran) will be over soon and his 12 years of hell at school will begin ( primary school entrance age is seven here).

I’ve seen how miserable he’s been through his preschool education, and that’s supposed to be the best with all the girls and dancing courses, I think he will appreciate it later (all schools are single-sex here) yet too late!

my heart goes for him cuz he is really smart for his age and cannot help but hate school for all it is. And what is that? I may talk about it later or NOT, to avoid bringing back all bad memories, by the way you should know that I was the official representative of school haters at our family before he took my place.

Anyway all I’m saying is that I want this weekend to be perfect, a great memory for him to remember in hard times.

I must begin planning right now, he’ll be here tonight and that’s when my time’s out.  It’s gonna be tough though cuz I am looking for intellectual or educational kind of fun!  He is gonna hate me, isn’t he?