Zeynep 的个人资料Zeynep Ankara照片日志列表更多  |  工具 帮助 |
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5月28日 Specialists are wrong!  When I saw that an osteoid nodule appeared on my right wrist, I said "I am an internet addicted anymore". By the way, where do the left handed people leave their mouses?.. Of course their osteoid nodules are on the left wrists, I am not silly, huh! Anyway, the osteoid nodule made me think a little. I am an original thinker as you know and become involved in my speech sometimes. But okay, it is not too bad. That means I am not an automatic orange, lol...
That osteoid nodule was a little pink also. Look at your right wrist now please -or left-, you will probably see the same pink osteoid nodule too. My nodule is as big as a chickpea. I was thinking that maybe the human race will have 6 fingers anymore in the future. Or maybe we would have a third knee on our wrists in a point of the evolution... But development in technology was very fast more than my way of thinking and some computers without mouse eliminated that risk. The fact is, the human race is still under risk and some mad! boffins succeeded to scare us one more time lately.
Specialists are warning: "The humankind will have deformation with the change of lifestyle, it is fatal." They exercised the theory of evolution for today and reached to some interesting results. There was some similar arguments before but this time some details are... May God cause you to think straight guys! But if it happens like that, oh no, may God save my mind, lol... Yes, the lifestyle and the nutrition ways of people are changed than 100 years before in a radical way, so the humanking (Ah, may wasp stings my tongue! It will be humankind, not humanking.) will change physically by all means. Inactive living, technological dependence, the way of fast food nutrition are influence our forms naturally. This life style is changing everything. If this radical changing goes on, the form of the human being will be different after 100 years. Legs and arms will become thin and shorter that is why we use them less. Belly and hip will become large -oh my!-, neck will become shorter. The size of cranium may become large according to that scientists.
Lol... Finally we will be aliens in this world one day! But no way! Specialists are wrong! Because if we go on with this speed, the human race will not increase gradually. Most of people are internet addicted now. A big part of our lives in internet. Our friends are from internet, our darlings also. We are chatting with our close people by messenger, we are eating while surfing on internet. Computers are our husbands or wives, they are our children, they are our schools, our houses, our everything! How will we increase then? I am afraid we will not be able to find a fast food worker who will take the telephone calls one day!
 Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara1月14日 In pursuance of truth / The king is naked!This journey of human being begins with "What is this?", "What is that?" questions and goes all his lifetime. This is nose. That is window... These big questions are answered with little answers. But the questions become simple, the answers also get difficult gradually. Why there is badness?.. Why there are wars?.. Why some crimes are covered-up?.. Why some criminals are protected?.. Why there is no peace still?.. Don't ask for world peace; forget it... Why discrimination, why racism, cold wars? Direct questions, indirect answers. Direct questions become indirect in the course of time. Can I find the truth by myself please?.. Close your eyes, look inside!.. Okay... Oh, please, will I stay forever like this??? So where's the human being would reach the truth with his mind? You liars!.. In this way, the human being needed some authorities who bear responsibility about the truth. Scientists, ecclesiastics , politicians, judges, lawyers, writers, artists, mothers, and fathers, and friends, ha ha ha!! You liars! Okay, okay, I need a God!
When our philosophy professor began to teach some philosophical concepts, all cacaphony stopped. Yes, she used to look like a little nut but absolutely enlarge the mind. Great! I had needed that knowledges. These were the answers that I looked up. Especially the following concepts reorganized to my whole habit of mind:
"To confuse on purpose". (Run away from some mind-bending people. You don't need fallacy, wiredrawn argument, you don't need demagogy. Don't fuddle with them. They are b*stard, they are immoral, they are preyer, they take undue advantage. Just run. They are barrier on your road to see the truth. Either to perplexity on purpose or to play with heel of achilles are some kind of violence and exploitation too, never forget.)
"To confuse without knowing". (Hımm, they are not too dangerous. If you have time, you may instruct them. They are some excited ignorants, maybe not worse than demagogs. There is just one thing you have to do; you mustn't be together with them for a long time. Because ignorance is communicable.
The truth is either black or white.
And this is universal.
The truth is not subjective.
And so it can't be grey.
Ahhh, my dear king!
You are naked but I can't tell.
I can see to your d*ck, this is truth.
But I swear I will whisper one day,
just to you...
Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara8月15日 "True love..."
4月2日 dream and truth... Placid night.
I am sleeping in a sailing bed which goes around a crystal ocean.
There are millions of varicolored fishes under my bed.
Incredible depth. Incredible animals. Incredible me...
 You need someone not to bury yourself in your head. If there is just a wall before you, even if correct thoughts can destroy you. To be right by himself is craziness. The door of happiness is not open inside, as Kiergegaard. You need something that will attach you to the real world.
1997; written by me.
Kiergegaard was wrong; 2007.
 Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara1月6日 to an unborn child... You are excited, you are impatient, you can't wait to come to the world. If I say what did see this eyes by now, you will still want to come. What did hear this ears, what did feel this heart, if you know, you will still want to come to this worn world. You still come, come and you too live. Your heart will beat with cosmos, the world will be happy with your being, all buds will come out, birds will chirp, maybe it will rain...
You can't wait baby, you are hectic, you want to come as soon as possible. But... Love will hurt, your lovers will stab you in the back and it will cut you to the heart most. You will grieve deeply and you will see finally, all hearts are in tatters, you still come. The happiness will be just in simple details. Sunshine will hide inside of you. The better trick you know will be fool's paradise, still come.
If you don't want to smile, don't smile; but never give up to love. Don't fear to stay without love. I will teach you how can love all between these are. Don't forget, there is always a sun, even if all these clouds. I will show you what is black what is white, but you choose livid. You still come... There will be always a time to go for you. I will teach you how can leave, how can say no, how can go... You must always know when you go. Every good bye is a hello. Don't fear to go. Don't fear from hopelessness, don't frustrate when they ignore your pain, don't fear to get lost, run away from fallacies, from some people who mind-bending on purpose. If somebody does it without on purpose, still run. Don't fear when they ignore your pain, God knows the whole story...
Run away from torment which is in the care of the father and mother. Child is trust to father and mother from God, don't forget, child to father and mother, citizen to goverment are trust from God. If they betray this trust, run away from them, go to the far away... You still come. I will tell you how to be a father, how to be a mother, a friend, a darling. Ask me, I will tell you, I will not you bedevil. Come. If your all beliefs die; if your all values lose; if there is nobody around you, except you; if there is just remain death from life, come to me. Don't fear, don't hold back, tell me what you want. If all your roads come to the end, come to me, I know the whole story.
30 December 2006
to an expectant mother.
Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara12月15日 "instinct never dies" bergoiata.org
"The gorgeous eagles are the one of the most survive in the world of animals. Some of them live until their 70s. But they have to make a hard decision in their 40s. When eagels reache their 40s, their claws harden, lose their elasticity, so they can't clench its game. Their beak lengthen and curl to the breast. Their wings grow old and becomes heavier. Their feather grows old and becomes thick. They can hardly fly. Now the eagle has to make a decision here. It will choose either death or rebirth.
Rebirth is a very sorrowful and hard process. This process will go on for about 150 days. If the eagle chooses to survive, it flies to the top of a mountain and stays on a rock cliff. This cliff is going to be its home for a while. Then it finds a suitable rock and begins to hit its beak to it. Finally, its beak comes off and falls. The eagle waits for its new beak off for a while. After the new beak off, it rips out its hands with it. Now, it has to wait for the new hands for a while. After the new hands, the eagle begins to pluck off its old feather this time. After five months, the eagle is ready for its great first reburn flight."
But unfortunately some of them can't make a decision. It wants to survive but doesn't go to the top of a mountain. It stays in the same place where it lives and begins to fly upon the other eagles. Other eagles don't understand it. The fearful eagle goes on its attacks. Every single attack means "come off my beak", "rip out my hands", "pluck off my feather". Finally, poor eagle can't explain itself, so can't reborn... Maybe we have to teach falling to this eagle which can't learn how to walk... like Nietzsche.
11月1日 forever... F O R E V E R Y O U N G
 "May God bless and keep you always / May your wishes all come true / May you always do for others / And let others do for you / May you build a ladder to the stars / And climb on every rung / May you stay forever young / Forever young, forever young / May you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be righteous / May you grow up to be true / May you always know the truth / And see the lights surrounding you / May you always be courageous / Stand upright and be strong / May you stay forever young / Forever young, forever young / May you stay forever young.
May your hands always be busy / May your feet always be swift / May you have a strong foundation / When the winds of changes shift / May your heart always be joyful / May your song always be sung / May you stay forever young / Forever young, forever young / May you stay forever young."
by Bob Dylan
I saw a nice corner in Bruce's space "What a Journey!.. Plan for tomorrow but live today!" at first. Everyone have to read this corner. It is titled "How To Stay Young". Actually, Bruce's space is totally enjoyable. It was already being featured last week...
How to stay young?.. Man of today is always interested in this question. Especially women. The plastic surgery, every kind of sport, yoga or the other eastern philosophical activities are some of the way of to stay young today. Maybe we have to add the modern psychotherapy to this list... But some of people need no any plus effort to stay young. They are just young in their every age. They have an interesting light in their whole life. They have a special contact with the others, with the world and with God. They have some special heart, soul and vision. As if they have a secret mission in the world. They are totally different in every way.
Then, I browsed a little. I have a music books corner in my bookcase. I chose a Bob Dylan biography titled FOREVER YOUNG. Bob Dylan had written this song for his son. He had written it for his son and heaved to the world. All of the world people said amen for this prayer. Maybe everybody felt that is written for themselves. The prayers are salve. We have some good wishes for people in some hard days. When a tragedy is experienced, we have no chance except prayers sometimes. And sometimes I think of it: Where do all these prayers go?
   Bob Geldof Rolling Stones Elton John
 Blondie
7月29日 JEAN GENET (1910-1986) "This French writer, a dramatist and convicted felon, became one of the leading figures in the avant-garde theater. Genet has described in his works an underworld of male prostitutes, convicts, pimps and social outcasts. For a long time he so addicted to theft that he stole diamonds from his hostesses at a literary reception. However, his life changed radically when such prominent figures as Jean-Paul Sartre and Jean Cocteau clamored successfully for his parole. He subsequently escaped the criminal world to become a writer, who glorified the underworld and homosexual love..." "O let me be nothing but beauty alone! Quickly or slowly I will go, but I will dare what must be dared. I will destroy appearances, the casings will be burnt off and will fall from me, and I will appear there, some evening, on the palm of your hand, calm and pure like a statuette of glass." (from The Thief's Journal, 1954)
 "But now I am afraid. The signs pursue me and I pursue them patiently. They are bent on destroying me. Didn't I see, on my way to court, seven sailors on the terrace of a cafe, questioning the stars through seven mugs of light beer as they sat around a table that perhaps turned; then, a messenger boy on a bicycle who was carrying a message from god to god, holding between his teeth, by the metal handle, a round, lighted lantern, the flame of which, as it reddened his face, also heated it? So pure a marvel that he was unaware of being a marvel. Circles and globes haunt me: oranges, Japanese billiard balls, Venetian lanterns, jugglers' hoops, the round ball of the goalkeeper who wears a jersey. I shall have to establish, to regulate, a whole internal astronomy." (from Our Lady of the Flowers)
"I OUGHT TO HAVE ADDRESSED
THE TORTURER
WITH HIS OWN WAY" (*)
Jean Gene was not only a man of letter. His political attitude had pulled ahead most of the time. Maybe we have to mention about some of his themes to understand better him. The world, literature, language, solitariness, hotel rooms, crime, badness, betrayal, sexuality, beauty, death... All these themes are can keep a writer busy in his whole life. But Gene had broken off from literature just twenty years. He had given support some rebel groups, taken part in some demonstrations and written his impressions. He had lived as a fair-skinned black in between white's world that he hated.
He had used the language of torturers supremely to answer them. He had damned. His writings had taken to the established order's face as a slap. He however, had turned into a "saint" who is walking with an immunity glory on his head.
Gene had borne on the wrong side of the blanket and always marginalized. He had lived and died alone; as a robber, rebellious, heimatlos and homeless hobo... He is saying so many things about himself in Madeleine Gobeil's interview which titled "Bastardy, betrayal, denial of the society and article":
- WHY YOU GAVE A DECISION TO BE A ROBBER, BESTRAYER AND HOMOSEXUAL?
- I didn't give or take a decesion for it. But there is some events. If I began to steal, it is because of hunger. The homosexuality however, I don't know anything. What we know about it? Are we know why a man prefers sort of the positions to make love? The homosexuality was given me as color of my eyes, number of my feet, something of the kind. When I was a little child, I comprehended that the other boy's impression on me. The women never effected on me. You know, when I realized that attraction, I chose the homosexuality sponte sua as Sartre's words, gave a decition. I knew that the homosexuality is condemned by the people but I should agree with it.
Genet is not an "inoffensive" person while interview and if he wants to give a negative response, doesn't keep. If he doesn't want to answer, he is just saying "It's no concern of yours..." Either his soul or ideas or live is always free.
"The torturers are tormenting 'clean' and 'sophisticated' through 'modern' methods without regret or uncomfortable feelings."
He doesn't like gallivant. On the other hand, his writings are making him more alone. But he doesn't care it. As he said, he had skinned himself in his books but at the same time disguised himself with words, preferences, attitudes. As if all these are magic. Genet is unrecognizable to render himself in his writings. He is a thinker and activist, his first object will be himself naturally.
"When I was so young, I realized double quick that everything will be stopped for me in life. I went to a townlet school until my thirteen. I would be an accountant or a minor offical at best... Maybe not an accountant, maybe not a writer -I wasn't know it- but I was drawing myself up to watch for the world. If I can't change the world, I would watch for it. Since, twelve or fifteen years old, I was creating an observer and so a writer on myself."
A "LITTLE" OBSERVATION FROM JEAN GENET:
"I was watching a television program. It was a theology meeting about Vatican. There was some cardinals. Some of them were sexless and senseless. Some of the others who like women were boring and greedy. One of them who looks like homosexual, Cardinal Lienart, was looking good and clever...."
If I had a chance, as Zeynep Ankara, I would ask him that question:
WHAT ARE THE ROPES OF TO LIVE TOGETHER WITH TORTURERS?..
 the place where Jean Genet is dead...
Paris, April/15/1986.
(*) İşkenceciye kendi dilinde hitap etmeliydim... Some sections from a book review about Jean Genet's biography by Zeynep Ankara. Milliyet Art Review, September/1/1996.
Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara7月24日 Who is the most genius?.. I was always anarchist and monarchist also.
I found an essay by me this weekend. I had written it in 1995. I was writing some book critiques in Milliyet Art Review that years. This critique is about Salvador Dali's autobiography... About a genius and his life. Of course a genius's life will be different all of the others. Especially, if he is an artist. I will share some sections with you from that essay:
It is Dali's diary. The big crazy, genius, enthusiastic surrealist Salvador Dali had written all about his life in it. Every kind of inspiration, hump, his wife Gala, aesthetics, ethics, philosophy, biology etc... Michel Daon is saying in introduction like that: "He is sensible about his genius. And this feeling is putting him at ease as usual. (...) This diary is a collosal art. Unprovided with humility but sincere. The writer is giving away his secrets with an unlimited humour, with pomp and circumstance, with a brazen arrogance."
Dali is not an ordinary student in his childhood. Sometimes he had made an impression ineducable fool, sometimes he had felt a big desire and stability for his lessons. The first brick which had fallen on his head is Nietzsche. This brick had appalled him. "What?!.." "Is God dead?!.." He had began to read Thus Spoke Zarathustra and comes to this decision in just the second day: "Nietzsche was a powerless man as much as to become insane. However, the basic principle is not to lose wits in the world. And this ideas had become the basic principles of his life:
"The difference between an insane and me is that I am not insane."
  Face of Mae West, 1935. Gala
"Super woman" Gala is Dali's "superman". He believes that she is his fate. I found some photos in internet about Gala, Dali and his artistic works. Dali had painted Mae West's portrait. I looked at that portrait and influenced so much. When I apposed Mae West and Gala, my hair stood on end. Do you see the same with me? There is an interesting similarity. As if a weird mutation...
There are three genius in this page. Guess who is the most genius?
    7月21日 to make love 2TO MAKE LOVE IS NOT ENJOYABLE ANYMORE
  Commercials... Zap zap zap! No, wait!.. Cats and pigeons... Lovely. They have the most high flying and the most untold spoons, the most unexpected solidarities... It was the year bc, today. The urchins had put down a cat which had hit by a car to my windowsill. I called a veterinary for it and then fattened well. The stray cats that I fattened before it, waited always away, stooged and looked at it in interest. When they feel hungry, they didn't squall.
Then, it was the year bc, today again. It was the most sunny days of the year. There was a pigeon. Somehow, one of the grips of it had crushed. It was limping uneasy while come near me. While it packing corns from my palm, the other pigeons stayed away with timid steps. Either cat or pigeon went quiet and retriving after they get better. We got back into circulation; we, other cats, other pigeons and other me.
ANIMALS ARE MORE RESPECTFUL THAN HUMAN IN THE FACE OF PAIN.
Zap!.. I falled in love ever so much. I sing small anymore. To think about somethings that I experienced is tiring anymore. Was there anybody who fall in love with me?.. I remember one or two lover but they were not serious for me. Besides, why a man might be fall in love with me, I never know. As if only I have to scorched in this fire... They say that most beautiful love is the first love. It was all same with me but the most long-lived one is the first. Either spoons or talkings... We separated in a white christmas in a public garden. It was sunny. But while we began to talk about separate, the snow began. I was feel cold and burning at the same time with sun and snow. He went and his gloves stayed with my hands.
I never saw him again. I did everything for it. Then, I hated to feel bitter grief and I went always first from every relation. They said "Abject!", "There is no lacking in herself-respect!" Okay. Put a lot of painstaking effort into resist for hold together with your pets, but one day you don't feel up to make an effort anymore. The man goes, you go too. Maybe you go always first anymore.
Caesare is loved and leave.
Caesare loves, attachs and leave.
There was a man before the boy that I love. I had bought some nice figured table linen. We would have lovely evenings. It didn't happen. I would have fallen in love, I would have fallen in precipices... Didn't happen. Then, sometime, I had a relation with one of his close friends. Why I did it, I don't know. I was feeling bad about it. Caesare had solved the confusion that in my mind. While she compose in a quarternight. All of a sudden. I have to open a paranthesis here. Caesare had never hidden her homosexuality. But she doesn't like to say her lesbian. You just have to say her either Bilitis or direct her name. Close the paranthesis.
(Bilitis's thesis: There is a man world implied fascism about homosexuality too. As if there is no man homosexuality in the world, they are lowering the woman homosexuals, playing with them, insulting...)
(Maybe it is true.) (:Bilitan's guess)
Zap... Zap zap zap! A man who has dutiful faced reading a Quran. My grandmother used to read too. She didn't use to know its meaning. She didn't use to think hard for anything. Besides, her mental faculties was not bright. She always used to eat pie with rice and yoghurt. She used to lie down on her bed with turning side by side in her last years. She always used to talk about some weird memories. When all these are recured my mind, I have nausea.
So many people seek safety in religion. What will happen to me? What will I do? Whenever I go out, there are so many dark story.
THREE IMAGES:
1) They were a sunny husband and wife. They had a pluck shop. I used to get some plucks for street animals. The man and woman used to sit upon some easy chairs and look at the street people, small talk and laugh together. The woman was blue eyed and brown-haired. Her picture used to lighten. Their son was introvert, calm and close student. Then, economic crisis broke out and darkened the sun of this family too. Easy chairs are stood aside, faces were dour anymore. Then the woman covered her head in a bigotry way. As if her eyes faded to black, the blue eyes merged. The man's eyes are cloudy anymore. But it is so weird, they began to make money more than before. They extended their business. They are selling some savory foods which oven ready by the woman. She is saying that they are so befit with tea.
2) It was a teachers day. An orthopedist's waiting room. Mother and daughter were teachers. Mother teacher's arm had broken that day. Daughter teacher was talking tender with her mother. While they were talking, the door bell sounded. Three black chadored women coursed inside. They kept away from everybody and clustered to a side. One of them had broken her leg while she was doing karate and the after-treatment was keeping on. Two teachers was breadth. They had seen no harm in to chat with them. I was concerned. I was too concerned!..
3) I was at the coast. (Moda's sea and sun is levander. There will be a large fire on the horizon.) Three young girl appeared sometime. Two of them had covered bigotry costumes which is extremely dressy and costly. One of them however, was in contemporary style. She was so dull. Her eyes had distant look. Bigoted girls were hopping, yakking, hot blinking to some young men. They were seem decided to use through this freedom chance. As a matter of fact, soon, they hit it off with some young men. They danced as birds on the reef. Then they glided all together, with laughing and talking, as sparrows. The girl which has contemporary style, had gotten behind them. She was walking with drag her feet.
The darkness is spreading. We will stay without light, breathless. They want to keep the people down by force, by fear. (Okay, then, make soap with us!)
Fear is big.
But no brothers and sisters, we exceeded that border so long time ego. What will we fear? From what? From death?.. Would a tired person fear from death?.. (Life is too difficult mother...)
I got bored. Okay, if so, attach the telephone jack. But... he... is... not... calling... Break it again. Zap!.. Luckily, there is a television film. It is beginning yet. I am setting up. A broken love story. I am getting a plate of stone cold grape from refrigerator. Yes, to look at the television is good. Full concentration yes, superb...
My desire is lost quickly. I am boring. I am so boring. I wish, I had not broken the telephone. Or, I wish he had arrived. Maybe he had missed maybe not, I wish I had played at believed him. I wish he had kissed me at the heart of the living room. The night in a side, the silence in the other side... Every action is a spoon. Is it as to eat grape while looking at the television? Ha ha!
He had called his wife as soon as he came. He was saying "My love, I will be late, it is business..." His voice was too childlike and persuasive. Then, we made love. He was looking at my face minatory in the penumbra. I was paying him back in his own coin and it was frightening him. The fear used to make him as a child. He used to put his arms around my waist and ask the same question: "What nice boobs! Are they silicone?.." I used to same answer: "No, there is no silicone in my body except my clitoris."
We used to talk in every hush. But aaalll SAME. Yak yak yak yak yak, bosh! Is it necessary to make love after that all yaks?.. Sign to my body, not to my mind. All same, magniloquents are great but there is no the other s*it except just the same position. I have a bookcase but I don't make love with it. You are using all large number of unnecessary words to express an idea needing fewer. Creativeness that you called too much is not an ordinary thing. Your mind can go only transfer. It is not original. So, this is our last night dear.
Yes, film... The man saying "Won't you strip?..", the girl is running away! The girls who stay virgin until their fortieth are making me nausea. (Come on, we look at the people from eye of the needle. We fear from all outsiders because of our mother's diamonds. We go to bed with our girl friends but if other people do the same, we degrate them with saying "Dirty lesbian!" Come on, we swing the lead of our spidered perineums.
Who says that every action is making love was Caesare. We were sitting down side by side. Her helpmate was freshening our drinks between whiles... I had said that yes... this action like that. Then I hadn't looked her eyes.
The woman saying "Do you like parsley?" The man saying "yes". The woman saying "Somebody doesn't like..." Come ooon, when will you make love!
That was a day that I had got bored with myself too much. I had strung along with a godfather to go to a fierce cheap night club. Inside was poorly lit. But everybody can see to each other's eyes in that twilight. The devileyes were shinning as embers. A man who is in the opposite of box was eating me with his eyes while drink deep and getting down the glass on the table ostentatious, then he digging in the B-girl's bust. He was buffeting with little suckings and then leaving them. I almost would have exploded. It was very strange, how the low environment like that could be too excitant on me. I was wanting to go out and inspiring the fresh air... to make love on the streets, raped in a dead street...
I just said the godfather that I want to drink a cup of coffee. One of that women served the coffee with a glass of cold water. I down the water right away. After the take by the coffee cup, the woman sat down by me. She was aged, coughing. She told all about herself at one stretch. It was a familiar story but I listened with care. When she finished the story, referred the opposite of woman with her eyes and asked: "Do you know the toolbreaker Nej?.. She is living, I am turning up my toes." When she saw my dull expression, proceeded with her speech: "I didn't use to be together with customers as her. I used to sing my song and go. But the one of the sick is me, the broken down is me also..." When she close up her face to my face to understand that I am listening or not, I stood back. She didn't mind it: "She is alive, I am dying!"
Co star can't stand up, he is drunk. He is hugging to the hero with staggering and saying "I love you so much". Then, sometime, they are brawling. They are hurling to each other from here to there. Their faces are bleeding. (The men who can touch to each other with only hit, ah!..) After the fighting, the premiere is shouting: "All of you are milksops!" The hero is slapping the woman. Womangirl is windowed to the ground... Have to watch the rest of it?
Am I marginal or is everything seem to me from a marginal dimension?
Hero's shoes are red. The premiere said him that she feared. The hero however, said her suddenly "Marry with me!" Then they made love. Then they talked. I couldn't hear what they said because I was eating the grape.
When ever I kissed, his chest used to blossom as a rose. You prostitute!.. His body was dreamy. Elegant, healthy, harmonic with either woman or man. When we met, he had said that he was a gay but nevermore we would be beloved. After the without light, wakeful nights, he used to sleep like a baby. But he never use to lose just a few minutes towards the morning. He used to look at a no name painting which is on the wall. According to him, the full moon in the painting used to become large and then lose in the night in that a few minutes... After a deep breath, he used to get off to sleep. He used to get out of bed about midday, go to the bath with idle steps and take a shower. He used to wear my bathrobe while distil waters from his tool. He used to prepare a dining table for himself and tuck away. He used to mention about his father's insolvency frequently.
When I bottom out, we were no longer pleasurable. He becomed unlovable quite openly. So the truth of it, I also becomed macho. I said "They said that you are a prostitute". He didn't take care a damn. "I am saying you, what you are... What the hell this gossip?.. He looked at my eyes and said: "Do you want something from me?.. Say, what?"
What?!.. No, I want to forget all these, but I will always think before it.
I am saying that you did so many craps to me by now. You are not a gay who is in harmony with himself. You are just a faggot!.. Damn!.. What is your social role?! To be a prostitute?!.. Don't be shaken while you sence your social role, young gay! Damn!.. Do you want to be a social animal?!.. Damn!.. Damn, they are already have their excuse pat to see you a prostitute! However, you have an unusual creativeness, God cared you for a creative mind, you can hit the big time in every area. But you choosed it!.. Damn!.. Yes, I do know, this is not easy. But you are strong to breast to all barriers with the proper channels. We are strong... But if you are in this way just for pleasure, I don't need to say anything anymore.
Damn, have to turn off the television!
Here we go again: The man that I married had torturer, the boy that I loved had floozie... Here we go again: The man that I married was an easterner who behaves like a westerner, a hick who behaves like a citizen; a neither fish, flesh nor good red herring who pass for socialist. That animal hurt my soul more than my body. He woke the dictator that sleeps in my heart. I learned to grab with violence a thing or two that I can get naturally. And I don't know, how will I delete that learning.
I will return to this issue later.
The telephone is ringing as soon as I put in circuit. I am breaking it right away. I feel that the silence is not heavy for the first time... No. Maybe I have some time off. But to make love like that is not enjoyable anymore. I want a man and also a genius woman by my side.
FOR JUST NOSY PARKERS: The figures that I wrote are not real.
MİLLİYET ART REVIEW (15 August 1995). Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara7月1日 to make love 1TO MAKE LOVE IS NOT ENJOYABLE ANYMORE
 the man that I married was a torturer
the boy that I loved was a floozie
I will return to this issue later.
I am on the latest point of the night. I was thinking no purpose in silence, before the telephone ring. I was thinking about the man that I divorced, the boy that I separated... I had forgotten the telephone's being because of no ring for weeks on end. I reached for the receiver with a sudden startle and flutters. He was telling that he missed me so much with a tender voice. To miss?.. At the same city?.. After the five years?.. Also we have to see to each other right away?!.. Anyway, I warded off the danger right away, without hurt! I whispered my real words to the night after replace the receiver: "Sorry, I will not save your day."
He wants to make love, my ears are snowy... Like a swish... There is a ringing in my ears. Some songs are rising from the coast restaurant which is far away. While the night passes, the song's sexuality dose will rocket. The coy singer girl who says "You can't kiss me by jove, die with your love", will say a little later "I flew with you, your shadow on my skin, let's make love again..." What is the next now?.. "Twine me, kiss me, love me, tire out me!.. Ah, you are too opalescent, ah you are so amazing!" Oh... O yeah.
Dinner, drink, dance. Marlboro light smoke... The blinks which are the gay singer's excited will turn to the woman partner who has permanent wave. The cheeks are crimson, eyes are wanting. Even the bill will not spoil these facial expressions. Then what?.. What of it?.. Everything is "noise" to me anymore. What had SYDNEY POLLACK said?.. "ACCORDING TO ME, A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN A MAN AND A WOMAN IS A MINOR COSMOS OF ALL POLITIC, MORAL AND SOCIAL FACTS."
You cleaned your house all day and then kept a good table, read journals, wrote your "dear" daily and you are getting bored now. Switch the television on. Come on, switch on!.. Maybe you will have a good time, if you can go beyond it... The speaker had asked the gay guest to disgrace. But she is disgraced herself. Besides, she is unconscious of this... (As take in vain:) Hey woman, God is loving he more than you!.. And this love's price is too hard... Pooh pooh, stupid!
He has a mother who says "qwardrop" to "wardrop" to become refined in her manners. He used to play always with his cap pistol. He didn't used to make an effort to take up with anybody. He used to bob up and jet water underneath my short skirt with his spray gun. I used to look at him confused, he used to look at me mystical and run away. I used to feel pity about him, I don't know why. I heard that he becomed a policeman or a security guard, anyway, something of the kind like that and his wife had been saying "qwardrop" to "wardrop" also. She was catching it ever so often. Nobody was feel that she cried out while catch it... (WHEN YOU GET THAT YOU WILL CATCH IT, TAKE OUT YOUR GLASSES. DON'T SHOUT WHILE HE HITS YOU. OTHERWISE, HE BRINGS YOU AWAY FOR PSYCHIATRIC SUPERVISION.) Heeellllll... Then some laughs had mixed the man's voice which relaxed because of raki. And one day, gunned man had gone away for business. The woman had run away from their house with together furnitures. When the man comes back, hadn't believed his eyes. Their houses had stayed vacant too long time. It was not cap pistol's jet on the walls, it was leaden holes...
Is it commercial or at the end of the program?.. He didn't call up again. Will he call up?.. I don't want him call up.. I want... I don't want... Maybe he must call up and I must jump down his throat. Yes, one more time, I must refuse him... Television... It is the one exit for me. Would it be just the one exit?.. The real life is out of the doors. You are inside, you are in lie, you are in illusion... Maybe you didn't deserve all these. What had BORCHERT said?.. THERE IS HUNDREDS OF FRINGES TAGS IN LIFE. CATCH ONE OF THEM! STAND UP!"
Why you can't say like that? Why you can't to do it?.. The black magic dance of love was so long time ego for you. But no, you view still young. You are going around moony as if everything is okay with you. Is everything okay?.. They had called "harmony" for "toughen". If you can say that THERE IS NO YESTERDAY NO TOMORROW, YOU WILL SAVE YOURSELF.
But there is yesterday... and tomorrow... also the day after tomorrow... A person who look at the television by this hours, doubtless survive too many years. Commercials. Zap!.. News for deafs... I wonder, can they realize all details? Otherwise, they can reach only a primary caricature of the meaning? If I were a deaf, I would feel bored more all these endless nights. Besides, I wouldn't trust no one. Anyhow, I don't trust anybody, except God. For that matter, I don't trust him too at all times...
Commercials! Zap!.. But no zap, maybe you will switch off the television. But the silence is unfathomable, you will switch on again. Our soldier, great soldier, lion soldier! Rap rap rap!.. Their stores, juke joints, mass housings are different from the public body. They don't think to hold an election between cheese and toilet paper on front of the market departments. You will release from cheese!.. Wine is not cheap anymore for you. Thankfully, your glasses are crystal... Zap zap zap... Rap rap rap...
He was always disciplined even if in his civil life. His old mother used to come sometimes and clean down his house. After some precooks he used to go with double up. The man married with a lame girl who can good cook and sew. She seems to rediscover her handicap between all insults, beatings and divorce menaces. Still, she had always smiled with their receptions of guests, looked happy. Their house was very clean, always, as before. It was smell nice cooks all the time...
He will not call again... It appears that he found someone who save his night. What an easy renouncing this is...
Then, one day her abdominal region began to get fat. She was pregnant. She bore a child. This boy baby was a newest page in their life. As if the man had begun to love the woman anymore. They changed their quarters after baby. Maybe it will be a real new life except torment... Maybe...
In all channels, adolescent singers... The media world is in a great excitement to spend yesterday's idols. All of them are disappearing with their safety faces. What had pop art's father ANDY WARHOL said?.. "EVERYONE WILL BE FAMOUS FOR 15 MINUTES IN HIS LIFE, IN FUTURE."
A JAGGER, a BEATLES , a MERCURY will never forgotten. It is not easy to catch their taliman for all that plastic pictures. They don't live timid or two-faced their bravery. Live Aid, Band Aid... Nelson Mandela... Which politician could as GELDOF ? You can't... Well, who will play the second half of this "Bad Boys"? Who will clear the world? This is the time of blood, sweat and tears. This is the season of fire. We upend to all peace efforts! Come on we fire, we destroy, we abate! Come on, we geld the humanity! Come on, finally, we abate to ours too!
The person in charge of everything was we are. WE, BAD BOYS... What had BIANCA JAGGER done in a party?.. She had taken her pants out and given to Andy. Andy had smelt it and bagged.
I lost height... I lost height again with plonks. Serve good drinks to the others, drink yourself like these... Yes, you don't want guest anymore. You did so much as they desire. Moreover, they waste your time, cloud your feelings, they eat, they drink, they use your toilet, they boast facing you and go unmannerly. It stays a wispy pain after they.
An old Turkish film. A bad copy... A violation scene. The woman is shouting, the man is laughing sadistic. Salivas... Oooofff!!!...
The sun was magnificent but curtains are hiding it. He had visited suddenly. We had met just one day ego. He had separated from his girl friend yet. He was in separation blue. His sad apathy and dead-calm eyes had took my heart. I had tried macaroni with tuna for the first time. We had eaten it with some beer. Then suddenly he signed to my body. He necked, made love and... cut and ran. As in the way his desires...
I had loved all of you with blank signature; was it mistake? I sent in my field, my hands and my brain to bad egg cons. You didn't understand, I opened the door for you but it was not because of my loneliness. You teached me that I haven't to open my door to you... If I can't trust you intra muros, how I could become ally ies in peopled?.. I had come near you after a hard way. I went around among you with my injures without bandage. There is my blood under your foots.
After the violation. While the woman is walking single among the trees, stumbling upon the bushes. Her legs are in blood. There are some purple spots on her face and arms.
To called forrest for human is the place that your living. Law of the city is not different from the law of the forrest. Two strangers who come up against in a foreign place don't want to depose to each other. If they are not the man eater. You can go single to the end of the world. Nobody damage you, maybe. The friendship of two strangers is more satisfaction than the others. The main issue is the loneliness about among the people... Pushers are trying to pick to each other's head, ha ha... No, the real forest is the place where we live. People are running to each other's weakness, when they know to each other more and more.
A LITTLE TACTICS: Show yourself poor and undefended to see him. Will it be ugliness or despotism... or justice? They mustn't know that you knew all game and rules. because you mustn't fall under their game. You don't like any game which is multible lot... Therefore some plumb crazies walk around you with shaking who say always "PROSTATE!", "GET DOWN!". Make as if and go your way. They are so poor, never mind. What had GELDOF said?.. "I TEST MYSELF WITHOUT HURT ANYBODY. IT IS VERY INTERESTING."
But it is up to you. You may whisper that you were conscious of that hide and seek ever since from the beginning. You may whisper that you were know well everybody as yourself... But don't flutter the dovecote. Because there is no secret for human anymore. If the human hide it, God brings to the light. Still, you have to know, this benefit belongs to God.
Telephone?.. No. Even if it rings, my body doesn't want him. (ARE YOU SURE?..) There is some naked lovemaking in last channel in this hours. (THERE IS SOMETHING IMPERFECT, ISN'T IT?.. HEEEY, HOOO, IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO DIVE OR TO GET FOR SPOON.) A girl who looks like MADONNA, a "gay" who looks like RUDOLF NUREYEV. The girl is longing to make love, the "gay" is not in the same mode with her. He is quiet, unreactive... What had LORCA said?.. "I PORED TO A TENDER BOY. JET BLACK, VERY TALL. WITH VERY TIGHT BREAST."
The spoon is beginning, beginning and ending. The girl is putting on her shoes in the first instance... What had MADONNA done in YOKO ONO's party?.. When YOKO wants her to take out her shoes, MADONNA had taken out them at first, then all her clothes one by one. She had submitted her beautiful and sexy body to all peacefull glances. Her husband SEAN PENN was there too. But MARGARET TRUDEAU was there or not? Or the woman who had taken cocaine in the toilet room was she?.. TOP SECRET!..
Telephone!.. It must be he!.. I am putting in circuit to the answering machine. He is saying "Hello?.." "Why you don't take off the receiver?.." I don't take off.. He is faxing a little later: "I already had said 'hello' to my tool..." I am sending a fax to him this time: "I am not your tool..." What spoon!.. He is replying my message immediately: "Also you can't be my tool either!.." Thanks. Of course, you can behave what ever you want to me. You are the authority, I am the slave... I don't reply and staying in an electric silence for a while. Momentarily, he is sending a message too: "You bastard!.." I am calling off either telephone or fax machine... A used bargain love is sought. Cheap, at second hand, clapped out, according to him. Stupid! If you can't touch my soul, you can't touch my skin!
What an absurd, I remember some spoons with him just in this anger. He is caressing my face for minutes; after the passing off all riderless horses, when after the come at the cross-color / cross-music. He is feeling of my frontal, jawbone, malar, bridge... He is looking at my face from side view, front view... then side view again... Then he is talking about Aryan race with a great seriousness. I am recognizing a completely dark deep hole in his eyes's depth for a moment. And I am recognizing myself in this deep hole.
Some fascists for democrat, some racists for humanistic will cross your path. You will struggle. You will marginalized; if you are white, from blacks, if you are black, from whites. Above all, if you are damned for a reason, if you have to fly solo, you will smoulder. All fat egos will form up against you... Your homeowner who is living alone, building manager who has three kids, runaway barrister's secretary, or your misshapen boss. The hidden clock key which is in life will be your only saver. The sound health men or women will die all of a sudden for an absurd reason. You will see so many signs like that.
The sexual harassment is in everywhere... From adult to child, from man to woman... But what about from man to man or woman to woman?.. Yes, they are marginal but they haven't to go to bed with everybody, stupid!.. You are wrapped around her all the time. How I tell you that a marginal has not to settle all "NORMAL" people's claims?! How I tell you that?!.. Yes, maybe it is consummate and holy when two different sexuality fall in love with each other. But sometimes it doesn't happen like that way. God knows too. It is the one of the business that his failed. His helplessness is not because of us, it is because of himself.
JOTTINGS: 1) If I kill a torturer one day. 2) If I kill some one who makes mental cruelty one day. 3) If I kill a mentally disordered person who covers himself. 4) -This time- : God bless me from them.
OKAY. I have to clean my mind. FIGHTINGSANDWARS will come to end. The human will love to the human. What had ZEYNEP said?.. "RECLINE TO YOURSELF AND SHUT UP!"
Milliyet Art Review (15 August 1995) Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara5月3日 manifest M A N I F E S T W I T H D O N K E Y **
 was in love with two women and
was a woman I resigned from left, womanhood and life. And there is no the other side that I can go. My brain's man hemisphere is in pain. God is having to everybody pay for life in any wise. But somebody's hotel bill is more expensive.
(DOWN YOUR MENTAL PAIN AT FIRST. PASS OVER THE SEXUAL DELECTATIONS THAT YOU COULDN'T REACH. PASS OVER, GET AROUND TO THE OTHER SIDE. TAME YOUR AIDAS WHICH ARE NONSATISFIED SUFFICIENTLY. KILL THE DIREFUL SHADOWS THAT IS IN YOUR MIND, PUT UP THE ROSE COLOURED IMAGES INSTEAD OF THEM. PULL OUT OF YOUR THOUGHTS WHICH ARE PAINFUL. DON'T WEIGHT UP YOUR FAULTS. DON'T DO IT, DON'T! TELL "FU*K OFF" TO YOUR DISTRESS. BE INSENSITIVE.)
Who is this donkeyful talking?
(I AM A WILD BEING WHO IS SEXLESS, WITHOUT NATIONALITY, -DONE IS DONE- BASE. I AM INCORPOREAL AND FORMLESS. I AM INVISIBLE. I AM THE EXISTENCE THAT IS IN YOUR HEART AND AT YOUR BACK. I AM WITHOUT INITIAL AND ALSO ENDLESS. I AM THE TIMELESS. I AM THE PLACELESS, LIMITLESS AND GODLESS. I AM EITHER IN OR OUT OF THE COSMOS AND PEOPLE, HEAVEN AND HELL, ATMOSPHERE AND EARTH. I DIDN'T CONSIST OF ATMOSPHERE, I DIDN'T MIX WITH WATER. I WAS AT HAND WHILE THE EARTH AND SKY ARE FALL ASUNDER. I WILL BE THERE WHILE THEY REACH TO EACH OTHER. I AM THE ONE WHO DOESN'T NEED OF COSMOS AND SEED, WORLD AND PEOPLE. I AM THE DESOLATION AND BLANK. I AM OUT OF DESIRE. I AM THE OUTGOING LIGHT FROM THE DARK. AND I AM COMPLICATED AS YOU AT LIKE THAT NIGHTS.)
There wasn't an end of my scream last night. I am quivering, it will be the same tonight. I am becoming small to towards the evening, rising towards the midnight. The mornings are always falling short for hopes. I am staying humble as if I am chargeable with theft, after a very small becoming hopeful.
I blew up to my heart so many times at star studded nights. How many times I rolled on the borderlines because of a hole cu*t or a bloody hole. My childish behaviours scratched their repressive departures. It stayed unearned joys to them, unearned pains to me. ^!&%@<x&%$!!! But one day, I will catch to my all rights. And I will still remain as a good person. I will also forget to my all evil mementos. (Mother, why you were looking at my face, as if you were carrying a donkey-load in my childhood?)
There is some human who is pushed to the life coasting and beaten downstairs from there. ( Loot, if lonely!) All that worry is about for them and me. The maximum pain is bigger than the maximum delight... Alas, I am thinking of the others and to myself who is content of the others again...
(I AM THE SHADOW. I ROVE IN THE IMAGERIES, WHILE THE SOULS ARE SLEEPING. I AM THE HOST, I AM THE MISERY. I AM THE MULTIBODIED, I AM THE DISEMBODIED. I AM FREE FROM EGG. I AM THE GOOD AND THE BAD, I AM THE GOODNESS AND THE BADNESS.)
You attacted to one another with deliriums. You earned heavy money with your incomplete "creative" works. Take your cocaine, smoke your hashish, if you can create just like way, it is not my business. But you have to know that what is creative work, what is not.
You set some rumours afloat for give weight to your power, your day was too large. You must put out some stars who is shinning more than you. You destroyed everybody who menace your being. However cake was enough big to everybody. You don't cry now, because they are looking down on us, they are lowering so much.
You gained your position by "accidental" and you shifted on your chairs with burps. "If I talk, you are out" blackmails mixed with your burps. An incomplete underwork, a puffy neck because of conceit... It was the main picture of you. And you supposed good manners that to cut some eats with knife which whould cut into with fork. You said that you are after humanity but you looked down on my shoes which I could buy. Unnecessary follies... &^)&%>+"!!!
(I don't say that what happened again to them anymore. I am saying maniac. MANIAC! And I am going on to my works with my faithful typing. Tap tapa ta tap tap... This typing taps will always be while I take breath, while I survive. I will carry on my mission for humanity. I am necessary for everyone, everytime and everywhere.)
(EVERYTHING IS WILL BE SAME FOR YOU TOO...)
Shut up you that is the one IN MY HEART and AT MY BACK!
Uneducated intellectuals turned on to educated intellectuals, mindless intellectuals to clever intellectuals. They blocked them, they hid their stand ways. Who says "You are wearing well..." with humanistic looks, sticked when you turn around. (There is no hidden badness for me now. I am just like a demon anymore.) You received severe injuries, while your exist war, still bleeding. But most importantly, you wouldn't fall in debility about your humanity; you got on it.
No one must teach to somebody that virtues are necessary. I know too, have to fill up the body first to mental health. But when follies beleaguer of you, you can't earn even for three olive to serve up. You have two way if you are working as a donkey but can't earn money: Prostitution (If I adjure you, do you sell me?) and death (Please facilitate for suicide to who are not correspond to sample enough.) &?"%^*/&!!!
When your thermometer is down to zero, you are under the sortie on every hand. Housebabes who has high randy, blackwidowers who has burried herself, jackasses who has gotten from whore crotch yet, forest gentles / donkeys who wears pants / double dyed villains and of course very stingy rantiers! When they say "Don't worry, rely on the protection of me" maybe you do but when you understand that is a weak phallus, it is too late. Maybe your bleeding will stop with death anymore. The plundering will be going on also until that date. Eh, after all, it is a good bull, that is a good viewer... Whew, donkeys! Whew son of a donkeys! %&^>&!*!!! prefer the person who doesn't understand you, instead of who ignores you.)
(EVERYTHING IS WILL BE SAME FOR YOU TOO. YOU WILL BOTTOM OUT WHEN SOMEBODY TAKES YOUR PLACE. BUT NEVER MIND, TIME IS UNDER YOUR THUMB. LIVE YOUR LIFE AS AN INSTANT, LIVE YOUR ONE MINUTE AS A BIG LIFE.)
Life.. is going on still? It has to. Besides, I didn't sin enough for whole life. But my heart is always in pain. One my head, one my heart. My silent scream has to abate... If I have a house which is in the background. If I rove stark naked in it. Only a suicide frontal at my head... If I sleep facing to the sea. If I never wake up. If all life goes on that is out of me. If nothing damage me. If swift prostitutes escort near to me, in couple.
Why I am always fascinated either most immoral or most innocent persons? Maybe they are all same... I forgat her name. But I remember well her face. She was looking like an angel. Her blink was not looks like dirty. Her soul was not looks like fall to the mire. She wasn't looks like who sells by tales herself. But somehow there was some marks which are repossession over and over again in her eyes... She was a very young butterfly winged donkey. She %&*<$/!!! her twenty breast that is pitched on to her waist, to the seventy oldsters's mouth. She made pass at bodyguards who smells plonk and gasper. She got into our bed with their. I went into ecstasy! She misled me with e-v-e-r-y-b-o-d-y. &&&%$><!!!
(GOD CREATED YOU AS A WOMAN BUT... BUT HE SOWED TABOO GRAINS TO YOUR MIND, SOUL AND BODY.)
Yes, and somebody is thinking of that I have to feel ashamed about it. Why I have to feel ashamed? Have I feel ashamed to live it or to say it? Sorry, I have a cause that to say everything about which are makes me I am. And God gave that disease me for to invigorate dramatic structure. Here therefore I couldn't hide my taboo feelings. Sorry, I couldn't made it. That is all out for me. If so, hit me; hit me, I am a fall-guy of system! If so, kill me! Finish me of with just one lead! Destroy me, burn me! Burn me, I will be going on to burning in your dreams. Abate me, I will be exist again from my ash. Kill me, I will rise again in every death.
They are saying that if your body and mind don't come together, you have to stand out. They say that will be a bravery. They may think of like that way, I don't care. YOUR DEFINITIONS ABOUT SLAVERY AND BRAVERY WERE DIFFERENT FROM THE BEGINNING. BESIDES, HOW CAN YOU RESIST, HOW DISTANCE? YOU ARE ARRESTED WITH YOUR BODY IN ALL YOUR LIFE. YOU FEEL YOURSELF AS A WOMAN, FOUR DAY IN A MONTH AND THAT IS CRAP. YOU HIDE YOURSELF AS A WOMAN IN THE OTHER DAYS OF THE MONTH. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO LIVE A LOVE LIKE THAT.
(YOU ARE FORBIDDEN. YOU ARE MARGINALIZED. YOU ARE A JAM JAR ON THE WORKTOP. SEEING YOU ARE A MARGINAL, YOU HAVE TO GIVE EVERYTHING TO EVERYBODY. YOU HAVE TO GIVE. YOU HAVE TO...) (They will keep away you from their golden family, but they will come in your personal field as too familiar. That is no matter what you want or not. If you say no, they will become ugly at the double. Sometimes insidiously, sometimes quite openly. They pick all your feather in a flash. They hit your bloody body to wall to wall and they pass over your broken body and they go.)
LESSON I: Be blind, be deaf and dumb when you go among donkeys. Be three monkey.
LESSON II: Don't gossip about a donkey to a donkey.
LESSON III: Say "thank you" when a donkey make you a crap. If that donkey do the other crap, lick donkey's boots, say "You are the one", "You are my owner, I am your slave, hit me again..."
I didn't be like that donkeys who does every kind of behave like an ass and then says "No touchiness" or "Don't exaggerate!" Why I am so poor so sensitive critter according to you?.. Should I answerback to your ugliness with an ugliness?.. How you know everything, how you know...
You really don't know how to love. You didn't grow up a flower, you didn't keep an animal, you didn't aid for a human progress. How can you love? You will look the mirror one day and you will see just a badness on it. Your dirty heart will reflect to your face. Sorry, I have no time for badness. I need so much time for good things and work. But I would give just one hour from my life to see a little difference about you.
The world is going to a weird direction. The content of human is not alter for the better, is alter for the worse. The media transcribed the human and somebody fanked so much. And lost all hopes from human. People learned hopelessness and insensitivity. Telescreens are painted wholly to red. Subconscious programs, commercials... The subtitle was love and tolerance. But people had exhausted for love... Now then, don't touch on sexuality, you burn furiously! Sexuality is brutal. Okey, what about violence?! Ah, of course, you want to clear from today your departure which is depend on press and terror. (Nobody ask me anything about this explanation on television screens. Because I am off the agenta.) Maybe you will succeed in politics today. But you will be defeated over against God and History. (It happened all same.)
You can't hide the human with cover. Besides, how can you make love with your wife who are just like sexless? No make up, no womanish dresses; neither woman nor man... I don't mean make child or make sex, I mean make love. You muddied the best stuff of the world like make love too. God gave up the whole feelings to all people of the world with compound case, even homosexual love; don't you see? Don't you see, God had dispatched marginal sexuality with fairly into the other sexuality groups. God knows what he want. or maybe you know better than him! Here is a historic secret to you: (sotto voce) The people who wants to abate homosexuals are one each latent homosexuals DOT
You attacked to homosexuals with your latent homosexuality. What was you mean about homosexuality? Of course, perversion. But you made love with your wife while your children sleep at the same room, you slept with your two "wife" at the same bed, hodja made "amulet" to your wife's or second wife's hub, your wife or daughter absorbed the hodja's breath for "magic" ETC ETC ETC... What was all these?!.. While you do them, you weren't make group sex, incest, exhibitionism ETC ETC ETC, what a bad hearted person I am!.. Mother-in-laws who are in love with her bride, father-in-laws who has a great time while his son away ETC. All these are figured in the papers. Maybe one day will be written more. This is just human. There is no side about sexuality and perversity.
(I AM VOLATILE. I AM A FREE THINKER, I AM THE ONE WHO CAN TELL BREATHLESS THEN. I AM A LITTLE BIT ANIMAL, A LITTLE BIT HUMAN. I WALK WITH WITCHES AND I PATROL WITH GHOSTS WHICH ARE CLEARED OF HIS BODY YET . I CAN COME INTO EVERY BODY AND HAVE MY WAY TO HIM. I AM THE GOODNESS. I AM THE BADNESS. I AM WITHOUT SACRIFICE, WITHOUT PRAYER, WITHOUT TOMB. I AM THE MOST PRIMITIVE, THE MOST ADVANCED. I AM WITHOUT EVOLUTION.)
The peace of mind, or to be a good person also, are not only belongs to you. The human being is defective product who is protected on purpose by God. God says that you go on hereafter. Improve yourself, complete and extol. Here is a chance for you, use your mind. If God wasn't want it, the human will be same with animal. Acquired immune deficiency syndrome and the other disasters also, are not scourge of God. Besides, miracles and disasters are equalized to all world's people. To fear against the black dead is always different directed you and me in history. You turned your eyes to God, I turned either God or Science. (GOD WANTS LIKE THAT TOO).
(I DIDN'T COME DOWN IN "ZEMBIL" FROM SKY. I AM EITHER ALIVE OR LIFELESS. I AM BEFORE THE LIFE, AFTER THE DEATH. I AM THE DISEASE AND DEATH. I AM INFORMED FROM THE SHADES, RELATED TO EARTHLINGS.)
The religion is climbing upward aware heeey, don't you see?! But when its time will come, it will arrive at the fag end too. They will detain society with religion to cause them to forget some unfavorable ideas. They will detain calendar for a while with it. Maybe people will accept the lesser of two evils in that time. Someone will be tongs for fire, someone will be sheath for dagger. But their triumphies will turn into the poor flutters one day. They don't know now, but they will wake up too. Eh, now is action time... They are killing the best persons first, then the rest of them... They are making fun of rest of them for now. Somebody jeopardized their being with mental way and they made them stop talking with marked composure. Everybody can't be just. Don't say that you are just at least.
What does God do with your that dull faces because of broken spring belief?! Your faces had turned morphine addict because of implicit faith. Your eyes are lifeless because of unconditional obedience... What does the magnificent mind which is organize an immense cosmos do with blind mind as yours?! You are ravaging his calling into beings with utilize God's name. You are taking cover to poetic justice whenever suit yourself. Doesn't poetic justice know its stuff? Why you trying to wheel it yourself?.. But, the harmony which is in the world, will not spoil in spide of you. My trouble is about "now" and "here". Who guarantees me from all that fanatic fasters and covered people? Shall I go out with in black covered too one day? Who guarantees me?! Shall I forced about fast? (I HOPE I DON'T HAVE TO ACCOUNT FOR USE FORCE.)
(I AM THE ONE WHO DOESN'T PROSTRATE. I AM THE ONE WHO IS INSURRECTIONIST. I DIE DOWN ON FIRE, I BURN UP IN WATER. I AM THE THING. I AM THE EVERYTHING. I AM THE ONE WHAT WAS MY ORIGINAL... ME, THIS IS I AM.)
I AM TOO, THE ONE OF TWO. I am in love with the other one of two. If you say that is not one all these one of twos, you behave like an ass. Besides, I want to live as a human being, not as a donkey. And, I don't want either to hear a donkey word or to see a donkey the rest of my life anymore. But it is not possible, I know. God bless us to all fanatic donkeys.
I wish I would forget to all my little devilries...
I want to join to Çanakkale Wars but it is too late now.
&&&!%>"&?%!!!
* Milliyet Sanat Review / August 01 1994.
* This is just an essay. Don't guess to x-ray the author's life.
Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara4月13日 lavender...M A U L T H E C L O C K S ! (*)(**)
in ghetto of levander
time flies
always flies
There was only me at the film theater. The young man who is on the cinema screen was resembling to me. He was sitting opposite to a harridan. They were supping tea from porcelain teacups. Cups were plastered with oriental decorations. Tea was never ending. The young man was taking the teacup to his mouth on and off, in this frowsty room. He was looking to harridan consistently. He was never talking. Then, a tear drop gushed as a pus from harridan's eye. Young man faced to me, turned his knowing glance straight ahead to me, as gived what for, as got a true that is only I know, like a brat... He is smiling with belittle.
I froze up at that moment which is attached to endlessness. Was I on the cinema screen or in the cinema palace? Was I there or on the viewer chair?.. I felt just a pressure till my bone marrows, just fear and just crash. A balloon as glass encompassed me. I woke up with a star rain, while lightnings.
A new day has began without warning. Lifeless, with gangrene again, but tenacious, impudently also. The sun has hidden to where in the sky which has taut gray coat? I wish it were appear, I wish I turn up my face to it. Maybe it will not warm up but it will illuminate.
I don't draw the curtains. Small children crowd at the window and I like it. They look at in with curiosity. I behave as if I hadn't noticed them. If I don't behave like that, maybe they will stampede as sparrows. But there is no children today. They hadn't come. They will not come anymore. Only my children allies could understand me but they went too. This is schooltime. All schools pulled as magnet to all children from everywhere.
I always thought that I am a simple man. But I don't know why, everybody had ignored even my ordinary request. Let me not mention her name, I was dart from a black tongs's perineum who is puny, cruel and always nervous. She didn't make herself known to me properly. She didn't introduce with world too. The man who has gone far away, they say he has her husband. She has hidden to me from him. So I couldn't attain to know him. I clung very tight to the others who lost his own way as me. I did my possible to fortify my connection with names and events. I really tried my best for it. But unfortunately I broke off all my connections at just not well-timed inadvertently. I broke all levers which would knock up to me on my life road and then I moved.
What I was saying, as matter of fact, I am a simple person. I mean, I think so, I am. My expectations was not inaccessible or incomprehensible. I desired a house which incept me with its warmth; a wife who I wouldn't observe moderation in what I say; a tea cup on the easel which is my seat's near; books everywhere that I can reach for... I desired to love with my blood relationships, to be at peace with all of them. I desired to win recognition but I didn't like, never, to be always be in concern for it. Then, I didn't get why I gave up to all my own family with ordinary reasons, after all that hard experiences. No, I never got...
How I was saying, my father hadn't loved to my mother too. I understood that because of my mother doesn't love me. Nevermore, I didn't cry formerly. I made a lip, I didn't eat, I stood aside. I was leaved alone in our big house but never mind, I wasn't need so much human touch! But when I grove up as an jackass, of course I lost my temper about all this pack of nonsense! They wouldn't degrate me as in my childhood! I wasn't care about Uncle Mücahit's wife's menstruation ending?! What was of it, Uncle Süha's impotance?! Was it my worry, hairy women's caramel?! Who had taken that dirty caramel which had maden by cleaning woman, on the kitchen counter?!.. Neighbour kiosk's ladies were come to our house and they were paste caramels to each other's nude body. What was a miserable ceremony! Besides... No... No... I didn't want to twist, when my mother and her neighbor friend named Defne went in to the blind corners for rest. I swear, I am telling the truth.
It was just on time, I married with a girl who had found by my mother. She was not so beautiful but goodish. She was clean, very clean. Her hands were so clean as a doctor. She had no effluvium, no bad flow.. She had only one defect that her eyes was so much seems like to my mother's. But I don't want to defraud her. She loved me, took care of me, she always interested in me. She made foods that I liked. She didn't look down on to my books. My books are not step childs. She didn't hurl the tea tray to my head hotly. What whould happen more?.. She was so understanding to me even if when her mind not enoght either. She didn't tease me when she saw my pre-school term photos. Between you and me, I was walking around in girl customes. Because my mother was like it, what would I do?.. I mean, my wife was an impayable person but we couldn't be together. It couldn't be happen... I leaved her because of a little hairy which is in rice. Maybe it was my hair but how could I know...
I adored my darlings. And my darlings adored me when we are together. But I don't know why, they always hated me after. Işık, Cemile and also Bilge... They leaved so many marks in my home. There are still somethings from them in this my new house either. Cemile had darned duvet cover's bottonholes. Bilge had taken a cigarette scorch to this shirt's end. I am sure, there is so marks from Işık. I am still dirty with them. I don't want to clean either. I don't know, what I was waiting for while together with them. What was not enough? I don't care it but... Never mind... My intent is not to counter with Freud. And with Freudiens too...
I don't know why, to be together with people is made me blue, such as not to be together with them. Especially this three person had made deep lines to my forehead: Yekta, Ruşen, Mazhar... They were just a triangle plaguys!.. They were all in suffer for some reasons sometimes as me, as my short history's other people. But they usually ignored me also, when I consume away with grief. Above all, they degrated me when I got sick about obesity, they despised me and sadly they got keep away! However we had all together ganged on the Albanian walkways, we had all liked Yesari's Albanian foods, we had shared Hasan's -who is native of Uzunköprü- haricot bean with albanian paprika. Same gadfly had alighted one to their head, one to my head. Then, our shadows who had whole seas overed, had jelled and had become heavier with raki, are became quiet one by one. Our ganders had been dulled too.
Yekta, Ruşen, Mazhar...
Mazhar, Ruşen, Yekta...
Ruşen, Yekta, Mazhar...
Ruşen, Yekta... Ruşen, Yekta... ME?!
There was so many thing to say but you all stopped talking! You spent all words. All of you are bad prodigal sons.
Maybe it was the time of the lateral thinking. It was the time to distil of words. But it didn't happen. Last badness went down to the world and we learned fall out of love too, we learned to say "no". How could I stay with you then and how could I remain silent? Anyway, you are not so far away. If I go a cinema or drama, maybe we can come across. Above all, we can surely come up against to each other at some bars which are open until the late times. Definitely, this is not a good idea.
Did you ever mentioned about me when your night meetings? After pigeonhole so much of bad memories, did you tell a serio comic event with howls? Then, did you become silent? Otherwise, even if my body wasn't there, did my being disturb to somebody? You little rascals!.. Oh, no, or did you look for some new faces to take my place? I don't know what did you do, but I didn't consort with somebody. I didn't fall under slut's spell, I didn't get into gays.
My house is in centre of the town still. Every kind of noise filtering to inside. I am brooding while watching the street in this room. I don't open the door to somebody. I don't greet to flat dwellers. Because I know, "good morning" or "good day" is not enough for them. They are asking for so many things then, so many things! They are all blood sucker. They exploit you unmercifully all of a sudden with shameless and you may die back as a plant. They can knock back their victim in one moment, you may sure of it.
I am taking myself to my corn bread and pasteurized milk. Because doorkeeper is a nomad who is with dirty fingers nail. His tooths are all rotten also. He is holding breads with his mucous hands and this is very derogatory to take them to my mouth. But whenever we come across, I am ignoring him. He is hacking as if to say: "I am sick, don't touch me". Nevermore, I am paying him subscription. While I pay, I am saying at my heart: "Get it, this money is earned without try... Get it, this is overplus a great fortune. Get it, this money is great mother-in-law's. She couldn't clean up even though she made a long arm!"
I never worked during my natural life. Maybe thus I always envied some people who are doing their own thing. Office hours and the other so many rules were impossible for me. I understood it. I tried to write, I couldn't. I desired to sing, it didn't happen. I desired to paint, it never happened. All faces that I paint looks like to crow. Omniscients said that they are not so artistic. Oh, yeah, of course because of aesthetic consernment!.. I said okey and I gived up paint, before they say no. Then?.. Hah! Sometimes I was a patriot, somethimes I didn't mind public spirit. I was always an iconoclast and my this side always rejected with a blind jealousy. I rejected with an umbrage to all optimists, formals and also obedients. Sometimes somebody pressed me to the wall in a dark side of a street, my ass puckered because of funk. Sometimes somebody got my blood up, I smoked strongest stuffs with take puffs till my tool. They crumbled me as qum, I swallowed it without murmur. Anyway, life has just one truth that is death. Reminder of the life is trick. Always trick...
There she goes!.. Now for it dish, where are you going away with your in pairs of collared dogs?.. This thin and devilish girl is my odd secret supporter in this street. She is walking with her head in the air. She is following her white dogs at a quick pace. Her active steps are perforating to my brain. As if she had regretted a peaceful existance and surrendered to find it. She is plying her trick with a late acceptance...
She will never know that I wait her. I am standing at the window to watch her every night. Some nights she will rank past to the street and will get into the dark with waves her key. Completely dark night will comprehend her quietly... She will come back alone a few hours after. Her eyes locked to a fixed point... She will never lurch. Her dogs will feel her steps. Their barks will cut the night like a razor. I will tremble.
Yes, there is no children on the streets now. They don't play as free as birds anymore and this is sad. Now, she is my prima donna without arguing in this street show. I wish I would lock up her image to a box and I would open it whenever I want. I would watch her in the way my heart desires. She would be mine, without wait, without patience, without worry or sorry. Without hurt her feelings. Without notice of her. That's that!.. Why feminists cry when some dreamy girls appear on the television? Who would feel indisposed to look a beauty?..
Now for it beautiful girl, gang for it... Wave the key which is your right hand with indistinct avoid to the dark. Say it, this gangings to where? This waving keys are what for?
I know, you are the same with me. All of them are thinking wrong about some people like us. Opposite of supposed, our waters are clear, not troubled yet. You don't know, how I wait a smile from you which will make simpler to everything. Maybe we go out at the same moment, maybe we look at one another. Who can knows, it may be. Maybe you ask two packet Camel with an undertone from seller in market, while I buy a canned milk. Who knows... Ah!.. My business is to think of you today. For instance, your eating with a hearty appetite. Do you eat like a horse?.. For instance your sleeping mode. Do you sleep like a log?.. Or have you nightmares as me?
You don't avoid your face from raindrops. You don't care rainfall which is torrent on your black leather jacket. You don't care people too. Have you nobody? Haven't you some friends or relatives? Are you desolate? Haven't you a mother who dye to black her hair which turns white? Otherwise, did you lose your father because of tuberculosis? Is there any ally for you? Darling, friend, confidant?.. I have. But they are absent when we are together, they are exist when we are not together. When they are near me, they are absent; when they are away, they are exist; one way or another, I am alone.
I don't care about Ruşen and Yekta but why Mazhar didn't understand me too? Yes, I always liked to wear cashmeres. I never wore a threadbare coat which is inverted. I didn't use an old shoe which has refurbished heel. Yes, I never stayed in student hostel or persion when I was a student. I didn't save every penny one can to rent account in my lifelong. I had no sister or brother to share fruits. I can arrange so many list like that. But I had a "laissez faire, laissez passer" parents. I was an excluded child in my family, in simple phrase. I think this heavy penalty pays all my guilts of my life... Thus, I picked up to fall first on the street. Then to crawl, then to creep, then to step... Now I am learning to walk again... Did you learn to walk at first?.. I am asking to myself, why not me, but never mind.
While the rain is ending, while the seasons are turning; there is always same blues in my heart. Everything is lean, colors are dead. And I am unhappy at everytime and everywhere. I would like to say it to everybody, I would like to tell it, to read it to everybody. Somebody has to tell me, why I am so unhappy this much. Why I am always doing sabotage to my lifeship's masthead light, why I always want to be under way in darkness, why I don't protect to myself from the other ships? Somebody has to tell me. why?
I missed Yesari's hot albanian lamb liver. I missed Mazhar's pained eyes. Hasan's haricot bean... Ruşen and Yekta's rows... Why I am always the one hurled, why I am always hurled the one from this company?! Anyhow, I have no trump! I hadn't... I will not have also. Everybody that I know or not, cut back my arms. But they will become abundant more than before. Everybody that I know or not, don't cry with me. It would be maximal badness for me. Besides, this bald has pomade. He will salve it to his head, his hair will become thick!
I will turn back to near them. I will stand facing them and I will say somethings cleverly constructed: "Ulan, hadn't we hidden together that prohibited publications after the revolution?!" I will say: "Is our coalbin your spike ulan?!" "And what is my deficiency more than from you?!" "Why you degraded me because of my obesity?!" "Is it a proper behaviour?.." As from now, I will not use abusive language too. When Mazhar weight heavy on my mind, I will not say "Fu*k off!"
I am turning back one more time. This is I am. Maul all clocks. Time is I am. What had said the one of the greatest thinker: "If you down, pick up something from down." I picked up so many things. I faced up to myself and to everything. I forgave to myself and to everybody. You do the same. I mean, you forgive yourself and forgive to everybody... I am turning back! Let's see your masthead lights. Switch on them...
Everybody switchs on!
(*) ETOS' UNIVERSAL CULTUR HOUSE, Story, 3. from Sweeden public jury, 1992.
(**) (Milliyet Sanat Review / 1 August 1993)
Copyrighted by Zeynep Ankara3月15日 non-discrimination principle...I can understand discrimination partly
but I can't understand racism wholly or partly
to say nationalism for racism is a humanity tragedy.
...crime against humanity...human dignity...
barbarous...diabolical...inhuman...brutal
...brutish...to become inhuman...to lose
a lot of weight...in human treatment...
dehumanize... 2月23日 "I didn't die today also mother"THE LETTER TO HADES *
- to after 100 years -
(Poet and psychiatrist Behçet Aysan who undermained is arrested while he was a military student in Medical Faculty. After the prison, he completed his education as a civilian and specialized of psychiatry. He was burned by Sivas massacre in Madımak Hotel with together 37 artist, poet and writer in 2 July 1993.)
I was stranded between "whatness" and "thisness". Was it window, was it stewpot, was it press; I think I was watching television. While I was thinking about that I have nobody in Ankara anymore, telephone rang. It was Behçet's daughter. We talked for a while. She was asking me a writing about her father. I said okey, maybe I had to do it.
I lingered around for weeks on end to write this writing. When I felt the time limitation, I blowed-of a compartment from my mind and stopped before the deadhly silence. Dead silence... more hush... deep silence... deepest... and it happened an abyss. I got down slowly in it... My eyes got into the darkness more and more... When I bottomed out, I lighted up a candle and asked for help from its flame. Anyhow, I should set out. In any case, disc will turn slowly at first, then will pick up more and more. I glimpsed Behçet who is across me. I looked his eyes and said "there is no you are and me and we also anymore". So, pencil coursed on the paper. I was hearing some jade's high hawls cross-abyss from time to time.
I don't know why; sheeps, cows and besides deers recured to my mind... Balıkesir days in hard times. Solgier father who has came back from America and wants to near him to me and his wife. If we are a family, we have to go near him...
Primary school's backyard. We all students standing in a queue for dried milk. Everybody taking a plastic cup of dried milk and standing aside. Rich countries helping to the poor countries; have to be grateful... I am looking at a friend of mine, she is supping as a well-behaved child... However there was some villagers who sells cow milk almost every avenue to each of us. My mother is stewing the milk on the cookstoves. Milk with cinnamon smells in the air every morning... Gulp gulp... I drunk up that unnatural, tasteless dried milk. I want to play!.. We have to well-behaved; otherwise, the teacher beat us.
However my father doesn't as her. He is always sagacious while he is teaching English to me. But he promise to come early to home, then he breaks his word. I am not sagacious as him then. I am putting out with him at my heart...
School is boring and urchins also. I am different, I am one child and my mother and father is working. There is nobody around as me. They don't understand me and I don't understand them either. I am entertaining to myself in my one child loneliness; listening Shirley Bassey LP's. I smoke, I drink, undress... on the mirror. I like to see myself on the mirror. I love mirrors... I browse through some illustrated catalogues. My father got them from far aways. Some little cinema box named television on so many pages. When television came to our country, we will have one too...
Every school day after, I have to enter into the our house, with a key in my child hands. Everything is same. Every day... Same furniture, fresh and silence rooms. Our house is always silence. Even when my parents at home. They don't fight like a cat and dog. Never...
But today... There is no my father's bookcase in living room. I am standing in bewilderment to the dusty floor. He had gone. He had gone and didn't say goodbye... I don't know why, I have no anger or pet about him. I am just looking to the floor. He had... gone. That is all.
Sometimes, I am going to my father's new home. I am so happy there. There is a fruit ranch behind the house. We are in a friendly manner. My father talking more than before to me. When I just get used to this closeness, my mother and I are going back to Ankara.
I am looking from abyss now. Life is giving somethings unnecessary to people usually and receiving in exchange too much. Forage for dog, meat for horse. I don't say why. I didn't say... Just I had to grow up. To be grow up doesn't mean to be strong, certainly. Luckily there was writing which is growing up naturally in my heart. Luckily there was some others who has writing. And some of them was rebel, some of them was truly free... There was writing; there was keep company with them; love, make love and of course there was fight. If there was no a little bit fight, could it be a real friendship?.. Luckily there was Behçet who has never come into my dreams, after he has gone. I desired him in my dreams with all my heart but no, I couldn't.
"a silver stiletto on my back...
I am walking but I can't die."
Say it Behçet, one more time... I couldn't dream Behçet but the another poet who says "I didn't die today also mother". So many days and nights, over and over again.
Ankara. At home. A green writer. I am in hurry to go outside. Suddenly I am falling to the floor by accident. While I am in a big hurt, looking up... this is my mother. She is so gallant and looking so cold... and saying "you are alive for now!" with a great insult. Green writer trying to understand this weird situation and also trying to forget her pain, walking to the outer door. While she is going to the Sakarya Bistros Street, has in a big heart strain and her ears clamouring deeply. Why her mother said it?.. She has to find Behçet, has to ask him, has to tell him what was going on to her mother. What is going on to her?.. Why?.. What?.. Why?.. He understands, he knows, he is a psychiatrist... But he is nowhere. Green writer will wait to him in this bar. Have to drink one more beer, maybe he will not come tonight. Poet of "I didn't die today also mother", holding her hands rather slowly and says "I am here, I am with you, why you are asking Behçet so much like this?" Green writer's eyes full with tears, she has in a great heart strain. Besides, she is in heart strain every morning, while she woke up... Poet of "I didn't die today also mother" asking again. No, Behçet must come tonight, I have to tell him, only he knows it, he is a psychiatrist. Poet of "water which is moulder" is coming with his cheerful face. He doesn't understand too. Behçet have to come. Poet of "I didn't die today also mother" holds her hands insistent. No, sorry, says the young girl, green writer. Just a psychiatrist with together a psychology student can solve this subject. She has to go up now, she has to send herself to an other day.
Sakarya Bistros Street. A bar. An afternoon. Behçet says "I am making people unhappy". I say "people are already unhappy". He is telling about his wife. His wife has said to him "leave this key in your pocket, come to home whatever you want; but never forget, you have a key". Behçet loves too much his daughter. He is teaching English to her. But he doesn't know how to get together more with his lovers too. He can be neither itinerant nor resident. As me. He is a calm rebel... While he takes bill, words are spilling over from his pocket.
Behçet's human love is great and limitless. He is so rich to share it with everybody. He doesn't deny, he doesn't avoid. All marginals love him. Here, ironmaker poet! He is sitting like a sphinx in Art Association's hall all nights. He is coming Behçet's near immediately at sight of us. Behçet is looking his crimson face because of fire. Intelligence jet from his eyes, while he looks at ironworker poet. There is so many slits at ironworker's sweaty nape. Behçet stroke his nape with love. Ironworker shy, timid and lovely; going with like a child steps.
Zonguldak. Strike of miners. A sign day. There is so many young people Behçet's around with a respectful distance. His calm eyes on them. Suddenly a torrential rain is beginning. So many umbrella is putting up. We have no umbrella. Sometimes we are turning up to rain. Rain or sun; it is all same to us.
We are in a "misbehaver" announcer's home. Some writers and poets are in converse to each other. I feel myself alone. An aged poet is following me all the time, wherever I go in home. Behçet is spotting check to this case sometimes. Chair, coffee table; there is no run away from this case for me anymore. I am sitting down on the floor at last. Aged poet sitting near me quickly. When "misbehaver" woman who listens to Behçet warily saw this, shouting: "Let her!.. Leave her alone!.." Aged poet is quiet. "Leave her alone and leave my house!.." Aged poet is looking to the floor. "Don't fight for me, I am going." I am saying that and going out immediately. I am taking deep breaths at the street and getting into my car. Behçet will come, I have to wait.
While I wait to Behçet, aged poet is appearing at the appartement's door. I have to hurry, I have to go!.. But, he is sitting down to tonneau in a flash. We are remaining silent. I never look behind. A few minutes after, I say "Please go down." He is going down and disappearing on the road... Behçet will come... And he is coming. We are going together to that "misbehaver" announcer's home again.
As if, nothing happened. Table talk and midnight. Some people are going who have to early wake up. Only "misbehaver", Behçet and I are staying. We are going on to a conversation. There are some cigarettes and whiskey from hiding place. Half an amount of dusty whiskey bottle is almost finished. "Misbehaver" announcer is sitting on a seat between Behçet and me. When did she wear that silk negligee?..
Then, she is going to her bedroom. Behçet and I will sleep in the living room on the sofa which are faced. We are waiting the first light. We are smoking. As a sharp taste in my roof of mouth, cigarette's ashes on my breast. I have to close my eyes, I have to sleep. Somehow, we are opening our eyes at the same time once in a while. As if, he is waiting my sleep. I decided, I will not sleep. Then, he is sleeping finally.
We are going out in the morning. Behçet is getting a pocket of hiding place cigarette and looking at the newspaper headlines which is on the doorstep. We are getting into the car. Behçet lights up a cigarette immediately. As if he felt ashame to somethings. I am getting the cigarette which is in his hand and going on to smoke. He lights up the another for himself again. I am taking of him to the hospital.
The another day. Square of Sıhhiye. It is dawn. We are walking, I don't know from where. The weather is cold. We are not talking, I don't know why. Why we entered to each other's life? Was it a mistake? Is there any mistake? Was mistake about he and me?.. He will go to the hospital for work; I don't know where will I go then. I don't want to go home. In any case, somebody is familiar to see me at all hours of a day. I may eat somethings in Zenger Pasha Hall or Gölbaşı. "How can you drink in the mornings?.." Shut up. Shut uuuuup!
We are coming to near the hospital. We are hugging to each other. When my body open up from his body, wind cleaves like a wall between us. My lilac-coloured cardigan's hair is on his jacket. He is standing in bewilderment to that hairs. I am walking away. I hear a cry of a drunk woman in silence. A man grumble to her: "Don't cry... You are turning into an animal while you are crying." The blood vessels of the neck are filling out one singing a song one crying... Education is necessary for some people... Absurd.
Turning from Athens. Behçet got a peace prize. We prefer to celebrate alone at a bar in the backround. But we saw that bar in Çankaya is closed. While compass the bar house, we noticed a wonderful backyard. There are some wildflowers and fruit-trees over the greenward. It is a hole under the moon, into the night. We are sprawling side by side to the wild grass. Moon, stars and a strange tranquility. He is telling about Greek poet Ritsos. He is telling about the modest home life styles which we admire and used to read the poets of Greek. Their home life, their philantropy... He is telling about the people that he met. He is telling everything about that prize journey and staying silent for a while. Then he says "I understood how I miss my daughter, while the aeroplane get of to Turkey". (His sound is in my ears just now.) He is turning to me after the long silence and come up to my body. After a long kiss, he is saying: "You'll never know why I did it".
If you hide somethings in your mind, they appear on your body. And also while you drink, you have to stay in a presentable form at the dining table. Most of poets can't do this except Behçet. He was an unusual person who can stay cool in every kind of dilemma. He was always quiet and calm, like while we snowbounded at the top of a mountain. It was snowy and cold. We had to fit on a tyre. I was agitated. But he was just like in underwater. His quiet standing wasn't help to my anxiety. He worked on the tyres, I took some photographs... I couldn't look that photos which are from that snowy night by now. I couldn't...
When he dead, I said "I don't know ever, what say God comma government" and wrote an article. I said "I am demanding back his all human rights from God and from government!" His wife was called me to thank for that writing. I was thinking to give that photos to his wife. She was said that "Stay in my house when you came to Ankara". But we never, couldn't see to each other. She dead after him, from cancer.
What will happen hereafter God?.. The world is not, never safety anymore. I don't want to be abated, I don't want to be shotted. What will we do with that people? They came into our secret code, God, they made short contact to our life. Say God, what will happen to us? Suicide, death, degrated, deprecating?..
Say God, what will happen to all this? Actually we were in a science fiction. They were belong to the different time, they were barbarous and ruthless... Don't remain God; we sacked, we refuted, we disposed. We are confused that what is wrong, what is correct. Traitors are saying "traitor" to patriotics. Suspicion and fear and also torment don't behove to this century. Say God, say to friends...
They got into our dreams at last, they set on fire our dreams too. We paralyzed, we couldn't broke the glass on the danger moment. We said, if so, let lay to rest our body to anyhow and anywhere. We deflated one by one like a butt. We couldn't say "actually you are on fire while you put out. Yes, everybody mustn't know everything. Yes... Yes. Could I say?.. Could you say?..
Old friends mustn't overtake us like a vulture, like a war traitor, like an immoral. We scared to everything, couldn't look at back. We stayed alone more than before. While we hovered between discipline and laziness; we scared. We thought that maybe an immoral would say to us "immoral!"; maybe an unmanner would say "bad-mannered!" We were alone in any case. We said "I am impossible; I am not in love anymore".
What kind of mean of love? They are saying "love" for mystery. To be tiring and faked; double faced and hidden that we defined for love. Out of order key, out of order lock; we stranded, we stayed between contrassst...love. We couldn't know how to be a man, how to be a woman. Could a rodent blondy understand soul of women who set work junky free women to a big city's suburb? Could a bristly man who has a little girl soul understand?.. Could she and he understand soul of women?! What understand they?..
We said "don't lie!" to our children and put them into the white-crested wawes. They vegetated. When they grow up, didn't want to say our lies. They couldn't say, just stopped talking. They stamped, they punched, they filed. They understood needless to say "somebody is putting agent into my life". And last, they stopped to feel sorrow. Because nobody care it. They got tired and finally they espied that they were too old for to have big missions...
They kept busy us in all our life. Whole life, nobody said that a blood vessel's end remained open in our body. We had thought normal to turning purples and carbuncles. We tried to understand secretly because of why.
Dear Behçet, my heart hurts while I am thinking of you. Besides while I am thinking of my mother who is always stand near strongs and who had a blood vessel's end stayed open in an operation... I am tired thinking of is it from God or from subject or is it from nature. I am tired thinking about justice or injustice. I am tired thinking all of them. Heaven or hell, world or next world, soul or matter; I never think hard about them; I don't care. But let's suppose yes there are. Let's say you are in Hades, if so, don't drink from that river which passes over the next world, don't drink, never forget the past and never forget me. Never forget love, never, never forget the true love. Send me your words, don't carry in your pocked them. Dictate me, let me... We remember, we live together. We have to learn ourself anymore, we haven't to be ashamed for it.
Your eyes... You grew old too in my imagination. We are growing old together. No sorrow, don't, anyway I am not alone so much. Some people are coming and going from my life. They are coming quiet, going noisy. I put Norah Jones instead of Joan Baez. I can raise my feelings with just only rock music now.
I know, there are some people around as you are. But I have no effort for them and they have no effort for me too. Anyway, virtious people are trying to save their mind, not their virtue. We all forget to love, we know only to control now. We are deppressing to each other for to control. We made ordinary everything. What matter?.. We will experience for a while; then will all decrease from the world. And we will say; "We only loved the sun, the moon and the stars from the world. We loved them, because they warmed up, lighted up to all people, without discrimination."
Roads end, roads begin. Everything is continue, but after leave its place to another. Time never stops, always flies. And one day, be endless, which is called the end. Time--ne-ver-stops... al-ways-streams... and-one-day... be-end-less... which-is-cal-led-the-end.
Time is a bird which flies with broken wings now... I don't hear the laughters anymore. I have to go out from the abyss. To the stage... Yes, this is the another show. We can't stopped the life ever. The star takes the stage and lifts her/his hand and say: "be calm".
Everybody calm down.
7 May 2004
Earth
(*) The word of "Hades" mean is "underworld" in Greek Mythology. In according to Platon, the deathless soul waits in Hades for come back to the earth. The soul learns on Earth and besides in Hades and then remember all. This is knowledge. / Orhan Hançerlioğlu, Felsefe Ansiklopedisi, Kavramlar ve Akımlar, Cilt 2, E-1, S:273.
Copyrighted by Zeynep AnkaraMemo: The following pictures are from one of our trips. We were snowbonded on an intercity highway. While I take this photos, I could never imagine a tragedy like this.
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Do you remember me? Me, your first darling. Remember, we were young, had some hopes... How could flicker out that fire of youth soon? How could we cut down our wounded feelings... soon? Maybe we had ambitions. We had cursed sensations, so began to run. We ran away from love and began to climb up. Mountain, hill, river, forest... We tired. We tired ourselves and put in with some people who look like to each other. Then ran again. Mountain, hill, river, forest... Again and again. And one day we saw that all roads, all doors come out to the same place. Last race, last climbing... Mountain, hill, river, forest... Last sleep...The love and the curse of foetus will be waiting for us there.
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