> Intro

Guarding a toilet at 3am, the silence and slight breeze touching my face, washing away the crawling fear of getting caught by the officer who was supposed to check on me to see if I’m standing upright at random times—such as 3:43am.

I have never daydreamed so intensely as the time I was serving mandatory military service in Iran. I couldn’t stop drifting in thoughts, side-tracked while marching with other 300-ish folks in lines.

Sometimes I wonder, have I gone mad thinking back on those times with good memories? Am I apologetic about the whole army thing? I do wonder how come those memories of supposedly the darkest times of life have become so lucid, bright, and dreamy.

I suppose all these memories cipher into lines of code that give a glimpse into the dark amalgamation of chaos, conflict, and messed-up ties. While both hands stuck to the gun, I kept simulating a computer to write down all those codes. Compile them on myself, on the officer who’s about to check on me in a minute, on the...

…still standing, perhaps upright, chin up, guarding a toilet at 3:55am.

A breeze plays with my cheeks and brushes the leaves.

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