The Iranian regime is parental. It cares for your soul, it punishes you for disobeying its rules, it shelters you from disturbing information, it reads your diary, and it destroys your porn stash. It is sometimes abusive, sometimes distant, sometimes illogical, sometimes it is even loving. Sometimes your mom will let you do something that your dad disapproves of; sometimes the opposite is true.
In Iran, you remain a child: dependent on the whims of your overprotective and abusive parents; sneaking out behind their backs; secretly disobeying them; expert at playing the good child.
2 comments:
Sounds like Texas.
I like that blog. Thanks
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