"high noon"

kendimi koruma icgudum cok gelismisti, disardan bir zarar gelmesi zor oldu hep, ancak icten yikilabilirdi koruyucu duvarlarim. simdi kendime yaptigim bu yine, icten yikiyorum. sinirlar olmadan, kaleler olmadan yasayamiyorum, tek bir parca olunca burusuyor kirisiyor, parcalara bolmek lazim.. bazi parcalari gommek (mezar taslarini unutmamak da).

far away somewhere there is a tea pot i can still hear, and aroma tea that i can smell. and there is a garden, that will remain forever undiscovered, and there is the kitchen window openning into that garden, there are bugs and flies on the shady veranda. shades of leaves are cooler than
the wind itself , brushing the dreams through sleeps.


It’s high noon in California
It’s midnight where you are
..

Goodbye, goodbye, California
Goodbye and I’ll be moving on
I sang you my songs
I know i’m wrong
Fare thee well
And I’ll be moving on

(from Jolie Holland's Escondida album)

sans muzigi

havalar uzun bir aradan sonra o kadar guzellesti ki bir sey yapmaya gerek kalmiyor. oldugun yerde mutlu oluyorsun. icimde yine biraz korku var ama dogru seyler yaptigimi dusunuyorum. kendimi dusunerek hareket ediyorum ama oyle yapmam gerekiyor, mutsuz oldukca baskalarini uzme potansiyelim artacak, durup kendime ayiriyorum zamani. hersey yolundaymis gibi davraniyorum. kendimi uzmekten baska bir sey yapamiycam eger boyle yapmasam. turkiye'ye donup annemi gecici olarak memnun etmek fikri cok anlamli degil, bir hafta gecmeden gelisimin heyecani kalmayinca hersey ayni olacak. muhtemelen o, onu dusunmedigime uzuluyor, gelmeyisimi ona bagliyor. ama ben biliyorum ki benim mutlu olmam lazim. bir yandan da duzenli bir hayata baslayabilecek miyim bilmiyorum; bunu yapacak gucum olup olmadigini bilmemek korkutuyor beni.

yine de kendi dunyami yeniden kuruyormusum gibi bir his var icimde, sanki kIrdaki evimin ilk duvarini ormusum de, cimlere uzanmis dinleniyorum gibi. biliyorum havalara cok bagli hersey, etrafimdakilere de. ve sonsuza dek surmeyecek bu his, onun da farkindayim. ama bu an her seye ragmen sonsuzluga aciliyor (zamanin dikene kestigi bir sonsuzluga belki) .

10 gun sonra bu sehirden gidiyorum, 88 gun sonra baska bir sehre donecegim.

wolls

at nite, summertime, breeze filling the white tulle curtains. lying on the couch, windows are open in the living room. crystal tear drops.

8 years later..

it all just cant fit together. i still catch a glimpse of that past world. i lie on my bed near the open window, it s late spring. instead of love and hope, i feel a bit desolated, sad and guilty. i am definitely acting. it is all about acting. i feel like betrayed by a kind girl for true love.

amazed, but not excited. i am frightened to go further into the new thing, sitting at the edge of it (, scared to death).

smells.

loga

I carry the lagging dirty ghost of denial, i dont deny, i am just haunted by this ghost. I feel powerful enough to be that evil sometimes but i am usually/always afraid of realizing 'how they would feel', oneday. It comes in the form of horror stories; in the form of divine punishment (not at afterlife but) within the lifetime.


Firm enough to be yourself in any environment; it turned out not to be that easy, for me. I could have done it though, if i had been able to close down to my world, totally. With people you know already, you cant just close all doors, you have got to leave some open, to communicate with those 'friends'. That's no good for staying firm. If you are not yet fully grown, it will spoil you, dirty water flooding in, bringing the germs, from those opennings.


At the moment, wondering about "what i am" is useless, i should deal with "what to do (next)". Doing is a way of being, not being (is a way of being).

Besides, as technical advise, i have to keep in mind that reality is about now, and it does not tell about future as much as it claims to do, it is the dreams which are about future and unfortunately they do not tell much about the reality. So got to catch a good blend; that is what i missed; i stepped down big heights, from dreams
to harsh reality.

finally; i started to see some beauty (good) in repetition.

organization: bitter, medium, hopeful