Ingilizce mi yoksa Turkce mi yazmak istedigime karar veremedim. Fakat diyecegim sudur ki, bir yazarin hayatimi bu kadar etkilemesini ve betimlemesini beklemezdim.
Ne zaman icime bir agirlik cuvallansa aklima geliyorsun.
Fakat cok ugrasiyorim Sylvia, hem de cok, sonunu degistirmek icin bu hikayenin.
Degisir mi sence?

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.)"

Sirca fanustan bir ayna verdigin icin, tesekkurler.

i could say "to the person in the bell jar, black and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is just a bad dream", but this one is more suitable to the rain:


her skin is white cloth,
and she's all sewn apart
and she has many colored pins
sticking out of her heart.

she has many different zombies
who are deeply in her trance.
she even has a zombie
who was originally from france.

but she knows she has a curse on her,
a curse she cannot win.
for if someone gets
too close to her,

the pins stick farther in.

it's been raining all day long. noone can see the clouds in my eyesbut you,, tim! you can express all those hidden solitude and melancholy. thank you and it's a privilage to know you. cheers...

one could say that magic words.
words are symbols of lies nowadays, but they used to create a continent for our gleam in the eye. in those days we haven't left all these happy tunes behind yet.
the meanings we attribute to things... they are no more our truth.

truth: reality of short terms. you used to feel in that way, and now you feel something else.

if there is no continuity in meanings, what's the point of feeling

sonbahar, yapraklar, kurtulus parki, gelmeyen yagmurlar, sokaklardaki kestaneciler, hala yanmayan kaloriferler, erken kararan hava, baglanmamis kablolu tv, yeni telefon hatti, kizilay, kitapcilar, mendil satan cocuklar, kizilirmak sinemasi...

ankara degismiyor. cocuklar hala futursuzca eldeki sulara saldirip zorla aliyor. dost hala kalabalik. hala her girisimde kredi kartimin yanimda oldugunu hatirlamamak için kendimi zorluyor ve beceremiyorum.
kizilirmak'a hala guzel filmler geliyor.
ankara ayni. ankara aynilastirmaya calisiyor.
ama...
kalamiyor iste insan oldugu yerde. kirmizi isik bile durdurmaya yetmiyor.

kirmiziyle oynamakti unutmak. kirmiziya renkleri katmakti. sonra bu yeni renge bulamakti gelmekte olan anlari.

bazen "hic"i ister insan, gecmise bakip kendisini anlatabilmek icin daha cok vakti olmasini dilemektense.

bazen "her sey"i ister, elinde hicbir sey olmadigini sanarak.

ve her zaman kirilgan bir dala tutunmus bir kus oldugunu sanarak yasar: her adim daha cok sallar, her yeni kus daha cok egerken dali kanatlarini acip ucabileceginin sanisi...

ne aymazlik!