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My Story by Naser Yasrebi

My Story by Naser Yasrebi

My story is the story of language. My agony is the agony of language. I am “the city’s new attraction.” I did not know this. I did not know anything. I was happy. Now I comprehend it.

I was placed with my back to the ocean and my face to a large building. I did not know that there is an ocean. Still, I know what an ocean is. People pass by me and take pictures of me. I wish I could see one of those pictures. Still, I don’t know what I look like.

The first day that I opened my eyes in this world, in this city, in front of this building; I fell in love with this building. On those days I was in love with everything. I was in love with little puppies passing by me. With the wind, with the sky, with the sun. With everything that I could see or feel. Then disaster came closer, step by step, with little paces. I started learning language…

I know English
Hablo Español un poco
Ana atakalam Arabie
Man yekam Farsi midunam

Before that I just knew the language of the birds and the wind. I talked to the wind every day for hours. Now all that is gone. All that love has gone. Now I’m jealous of everything. First, I felt jealousy for this tall building. It is taller than me. Then the wind. He is free. He goes wherever he wants. He can make as many friends as he wants. I’m stuck. I’m alone.

I have memory. Yup, that’s what you need to learn. It brings up fear and fear kills you before you die. Now I can count thanks to my memory. 1,2,3,…uno, dos, tres,…Screw it, it makes me dizzy. I want to vomit. I wish I could. To release myself, to make myself free from what I’ve learned, from this fucking memory. I wish I could puke my memory to its very end.

I once was free. I could fly. Like birds which these days I hate most. They are nasty, they crap on me on purpose, they want to piss me off, fuck you all! I wish that was all. On nights, drunk people come and take a leak on me. I wish I could put a sign here that reads:

Fuck you if you piss on this art work!

I wish I could have a baby. I would teach it how to live. How to make friends. I get jealous when I see people come around me with their children and take pictures. I wish I could take a picture with my baby. (Ah)…endless number of wishes… I wish at least I could forget the wishes which are most depressing in my life.

Only one thing is left for me. A dream. It soothes me. I fall for it. It comes by my door from time to time. That’s the only way out of this disaster. It sometimes comes during the day and sometimes during the night… It’s pure, pure as hell.

…Out of the blue I feel my legs…I can move them…At first I can’t believe it…I’m too old to believe in dreams…But it’s so real, so pure, I can’t avoid it…I have legs…I feel them, I move them, I play with them. I start dancing in place, like a happy girl with candy in her hand…

Then I jump off this ridiculous stage…I start running in all directions…I compete with the wind…I beat the wind…I’m free…I laugh at him…I laugh at the stupid statues…All those arrogant statues who think they own the World…I pass by them…I squeeze a lemon on them…I feel drunk…I sing…I compete with singing birds…I hang around…It is then that I figure out there is an ocean in the city…I mock tall buildings….They are stuck.

Suddenly I pass by a statue…She is the most beautiful statue in the World…She is a queen…I look at her beautiful eyes…I wish she was free like me so that I could fall for her, but instead of love…I feel pity for her…I start weeping and crying.

That’s how the dream ends…Then I’m back…Right here…stuck…I continue crying…That’s all that’s left for me…The dream is gone…I hear people speaking around me…Once again all my wishes return… Watch out you girl! You’ll make me dirty with that stupid ice-cream! Oh people take your filth out of here!


Naser Yasrebi
Tehran, IRAN

Note: featured image by Jorge Robleto

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