cant control the tin head

i dance even my head s an empty pot with iron beads inside, cause maybe i can catch the rhytm, be a part of this song, an instrument in it. i want to be just one thing, and one thing only. i wanna be the cymbal, since the shiniest it is. am i grasping it.
is this something.

song of the day: hava(si) kapali sicak gunde 'on an island in the sun' by weezer.

korku kalbi yavaslatirken

it's like a vampire story. not a one-to-one simile, though. it's at night, looking over the city lights. that part looks and feels alike.

i can't produce my own blood cells anymore, let's say. and i need others blood to run in my veins, either one person to keep me alive, or otherwise i need to collect from their remains, what they leave on their art, writings, songs. 24 hour music, cinema and
architecture is where i scavenge. 7/24 i need other's stuff running through my nerves to keep me humane. to keep me from drying out and needing to 'birbirine yapisip kalan sinirlerin arasindan, gercegi ve kendimi -bir nevi masumiyeti- ayaklayip bulmak, her defasinda'.

frying and needing. scarcity of emotions. scarycity of this. all that.

summer palace.

listening to cat power

nausea of trying to figure out the place of things (feelings-meanings) within the whole to get in or just for our obsession of organizing i guess comes from bringing in mind the idea of a whole which makes us feel the coldness of emptiness on the back of our neck. as for the getting in (feelings-colors) part, that's why it feels like a ridiculous jump where we dont know why we are making, not visible/locatable from where we stand, it's a switch that turns our 'sense of detail'/'living the moment' on.

people are, i believe more comfortable within a sense of infinity compared to a countable/limited place which leads to the concept of ONE, a whole where you'll feel the chilliness of emptiness at your back (standing at the outmost shell).

8:22 am

catching gloom like catching cold. cold morning o O (warm bed). 8:22 am.

weerasethakul

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so many windows i didn't know of, thanks to its writer.
- endless like mirrors facing mirrors: world(s) of cinema (of world(s)). -

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