Meet Me

Last night. Watching Boston Legal on Martin's computer, on my bed. Very cozy. Very snuggly. It is the episode on Thanksgiving. One scene where Jerry opens his heart to Katie and tells her he loves her, that he thinks she is the prettiest and kindest and smartest... as the list keeps on going, Martin says:

"Apparently he hasn't met you."



I wish, for everyone, that one day, you will meet someone who can deliver a compliment in such scale with so little effort and sway you away.

In Martin we trust.

Billy the kid

Why do I prefer Fairy over Santa

I always liked tooth fairy better than santa. I thought santa was ugly and fat. I felt tooth fairy had poise. She was also brave enough to come all the way to your bed instead of living room where nobody stayed, like santa. I loved the idea of a magical creature getting so close to me, even maybe touching me. Nowadays I favor the bean fairy. You know the one that bloats up the beans while you are sleeping like fava beans, chickpeas, red beans... so you can cook in the morning.

Ha Erişte, Ha Spaetzle...

Bakkala çocuk yollama kavramının bir de şöyle carpıtılmış hali vardır:

Akşama yeşil mercimek çorbası yapılacaktır. Şef'in canı içine erişte koymak ister ama evde erişte ne geze. İşteyken msn üzerinden işten erken çıkacak Martin'e hemen mesaj yollanır:

"Can you get erişte from Turkish Bakkal?" 
Şimdiye kadar Martin artık bakkalın ne olduğunu bilmektedir.
"Huh? What is that?"
"Turkish Spaetzle, kind of." 
Hani çocugun aklına bir tat gelsin de, heyecanlansın diye.
"How do you prounounce it?" 
Akıllı çocuk mirim.
"Erishte. Write 'erişte' on a piece of paper, remember the 's' has a tail and give it to the guy, he'll get it for you."
"Ok."

Martin gider, 25 yaşının bütün olgunluğu ile bakkal amcaya uzatır kağıdı. Artık yüzünde 'bizim hanım yolladı, kısa saçlı olan hani' imasi mı yüklüdür yoksa bakkal amca bu tip muamelelere cok mu alışıktır bilinmez ama, hemen anlar da tutuşturuverir erişteyi eniştenin eline. Tabi ben bakkal amcaya eniştenin enişte değil, suç ortağı ldugunu, benim de hanım değil oylesine bir kız olduğumu anlatmaya calışarak vakit kaybetmemişimdir. Nitekim en yakın arkadaslarımın bile bazen anlamaktan aciz oldukları bu ilişkinin boyutlarını oturup Queens'deki bakkal amcayla tartışacak değilimdir.

Akşama leziz erişteli yesil mercimek corbasi... bi de zeytinyağlı yaprak sarma... ardından da künefe... Martin cok sever...Bekleriz...

The Want List

Since wanting is free:

.I want someone to write a song for me... preferable a love song...
.I want a man over 50's to apologize to me as in 'Alpha' song "Delaney'...
.I want mushroom...
.I want a tattoo kit...
.I want a gun, shit load of ammunition and a room full of butter flies...

Since wanting is never free, you should care for what you ask for.

ChaChaChaCHANGE...

Change, my friend, comes in disguise. IT comes in shapes and form undeclared, unpredictable. And the worst of it all, your perception of it, comes too late, when there is nothing left to do but just accept it with all the baggage it comes with... It comes to change your core, sweat you more, all cold. You freeze, you're freaked, you're stunned, you're stupified and in the end, you are finally broken... But the change has already taken its course, all there is left for you to do is pick up your pieces and keep on walking. Keep calm and carry on.

And I am not talking about the new Facebook or the new haircut gone wrong or the new actress in your favorite show. I am talking about a type of change that shakes your core: when you have let someone go, when you have to give that long lived thing up, when you have to let that habit go, none bad, but they fulfilled their time in your life span and they have to move on as much as you do. When you realize that you have to give up, you panic, you dont wanna let go, you fight, you beg. Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, the times after change is better, you realize how good things have gotten and sometimes you think that change will never be for better. Giving up is never going to make a better thing out of you. Then you fight, like your life is at stake and when you lose, you are kind of done, undone. Ready to redo yourself.

I dont date dinosaurs

Below conversation was over heard between a girl in her late 20's and a guy in a very realistic dinosaur suit in motion in LA museum:

_"Oh my God!!! Is that real? It is real, right?" she asked her friend.
_"I am not real." dinosaur replied as he brought the nose of the dinosaur closer to her ear to make sure nobody heard him.
_"Shut up! You are real." She insisted.
_"Would you go out with me?"
_"I don’t date dinosaurs."

The Surprise is: I am that girl, only that this conversation has never taken place in real life. It was an imaginary scene, a fragment of my imagination, after seeing a video of the real life like dinosaur puppet in LA museum...

Billy the "I don't date Dinosaurs"

Der Kuss

You show each other the interesting items on the stores' window displays as if they were the most astonishing happenings that you two could witness. And then you walk more and more. Do you talk? Does it matter? You are lovers. You love. You hold the significant other closer to yourself, you occasionally skip a step to synchronize the out of sync walking pattern. And you laugh at it, heartily. You look at each other, with love. The girl puts her head against his shoulder as they walk. Even long after she realizes that the position is quite uncomfortable in walk, she keeps her head there, either to avoid a misunderstanding aroused by her quick draw of her head meant that she didn’t like him whereas she just was not comfortable. The latter being the truth, she holds on a little more to ensure that no misunderstanding would arouse. You are happy. You breathe each other. You try to touch unconventional skin parts, like the inner part of the elbow, or the lower vertebrae, or the ear lobe to claim wholesomeness in your ownership. After a while you realize that you cannot keep your hands off of each other. You excitedly run to the street and hail for a cab. Hastily enough, a cab stops. You get in, giggling. My place or your place?


billy or kid

How many 'i love you's does it take to unscrew me?

Watching kids saying all the wrong things but still able to fall in love with each other. they don't see the rest of the iceberg hidden underneath. They dont even know its existence. They are young, they are kids. Their pains faint quickly, memories dissolve, good or bad. They look at each others eyes, and that all it matters to them. What do they see there? What do they hear? What do they say? How many 'i love you's will it take to unscrew them?

No Billy no Kid

We have this heart, do we all?

WE have this heart and we don't know what to do with it. When we constrain it, it rebels. When we set it free, it gets itself and you hurt. We have this heart and we don't know what to do with it. How can we learn to cooperate with this heart? How can we live in peace, in one piece maybe with a little chance of happiness here and there? What to do with this heart so restless, so young no matter how old and tired you are? 

This heart throws you off course, into a ditch by the road you made for yourself. Yet, you have to get up, pull yourself together, caress that heart and go on. 

How one can learn to deal with that heart s/he hardly knows, understands? This heart has its own entity, own space in you, claims more and more as it aches.

You cannot get angry with that heart, you cannot hate it, you cannot blame it and you cannot leave it behind. In the end, no matter how much it hurts to have a heart, you have to own it.

Make it your own.


Billy the Kid

The time to go

What do you prepare when the time to go approaches? Do you cook a meal? Try to cut a deal, with devil? What do you do? Throw away your watch, throw away your TV? What else can you throw away? 

You remember those friends you accused with horrendous crimes mentioned in the law book of friendship. You remember how unfair you were, how mean and selfish and wrong. You cringe.

You remember life and all within. Do you feel relieved to let go or stressed in the failure of it? Do you remember everything or just the aching, maybe some happy moments, lingering.

You remember music. How good it was to you! It was the only thing that understood you, you understood it. It was always in harmony. Do you care for a last piece of music before you went? No, you wouldn't dare, because you know more you listen, more you want to stay. It is better you go. One cannot live on music.

But you need to reach out to be reached at. Reach out. Breach. Beach. each. itch. You need limbs to reach out, you need arms and legs and hair. You cannot reach out with just a heart, shattered in pieces.

The time to go is when you know there are no more corners to turn. When you see the vast emptiness in front of you. When you no longer feel the heat or the cold. When you no longer look outside your window, for whatever reason. Happy people don't look outside their window. 

You are not happy though. Are you?

Billy in the Kid

Munch with alternate version

the silence is beckoning, once again, the cold face of fear takes over my soul. I shiver. I tremor. I cringe. I ask: Will I be able to pull it off this time? Will I be able to do it this time? As much as I feel fearless now, I know it will creep up on me once the moment is there. As much as I feel I am capable, once the moment is there, I know, I may, I would, I could chicken out. 

The cold breath of fear, my friend, freezes your air. You find yourself choking on to your dream, on to your fantasy, your reality. How do you beat the fear? How do you win? How can you prevent it from the ruin?

I have this very precious thing in my fragile hands, shaking. I don't want to give it up, I don't want to let it go, but I know I cannot taste it while my hands are clenched on top of it, but I know once fear smells the sweet smell of what I am holding, it will claim it. But until then, I will keep my hand closed tight on top. I will make sure, fear will not have its name written all over it. 

Until then, 

I will hide it. 

Until tomorrow.



Billy the Kid

Then I open my hands, just to take a peek at the beautiful thing I was holding, and I am rendered breathless. It is gone!!!! How could it be gone? I had my hands over it, all this time. Where could it have gone? I had my hands over it all this time.

What did I have in my hands, all this time? Did I even have anything within my palms? Did I mistake the warm breeze with that beautiful thing? But I was sure, I had seen it, I had felt it. It was there. It must be still there. I still can feel its warmth and weight, I just cannot see it. I want it back, you hear me devil, who snatched it off of my hands and hopefully will return it back without selling it...

I want my precious possession back. I want to see it back. Because the fear is gone. Because fear cannot touch it this time. Because this time, the warmth it radiates will melt my heart, and finally set me free.

I want it back, hear me you devil!!!!! 

You got me into this mess, you get me out!

Billy the Kid

How ready we are to hate?

end is where we cannot see the road bend, no curves ahead, no more straight lines. End is near my friend, my only friend, the end.
Are we ready to let go? Are we ready to show the other how to leave? Everybody leaves if you show them how, you sneaky bastard!! They won't even know that they have been shown, they'll just leave. Everybody leaves, my friend, my beautiful friend, in the end, if you show them how...
Love is not an emotion, it is an ability, just as leaving. If one is not able, we'll enable him. Everybody leaves if you show them how and we will show you how. We will show the bread crumbs to the ones that failed to follow the map, the guidelines, the orders and such. We will let you leave and you will never know..... for sure.... if you have left on your own or we had let you go.... but when the time is up, the time is up... there is no more space for both of us in this little bodice of mine you have been living in. I am leaving and you can stay if you'd like. But remember, nothing will be the same once i am gone. Everything will be different and different tends to be better...

for better tomorrows...

Billy the kid

God forbid

This is your life. This is as good as it gets. 
No, it can get better. It can always get better. Not through the more and more expensive Danish furniture you are able to buy, or closer and closer you get to the ring on the hockey games because of who you know and how much you can pay. But it can get better through that little telescope pointing in to the universe you are scared to look. That imaginative telescope so strong, so potent, you are just scared that you may see ‘god’ if you get yourself together to look in to it. That is why you keep it in the corner of a room you seldom frequent and you occupy yourself with hockey games and Danish furniture and rare expensive LP’s that makes you feel you are worthwhile.

But if one of these day, god forbid, you grow extremely tired of that little rat race of yours, one day find yourself amazed by the fact that you are not so interested in sitting in the very front row of the biggest game of the year, you may remember that telescope of yours and remember that it has your name on it.
You may reluctantly walk towards that room and reluctantly approach the telescope and place your eye against the end of it, your eyes lids covering your sight, you may hold on a seconds, give out a sigh, and whisper to yourself “Fuck it!.” As you open your eye, as you let the light sink in to it, as you work yourself to recognize what are you seeing, you sink in to an indescribable fascination. Hence, you don’t see god, you don’t see the end of the universe. But all you see is the back of your own fucking neck. Where do you go from there? Where do you go?

Turn of the centaur

We just voted nay, and nodded and looked away. We did not question, we did not complicate the procedure. You don’t want to complicate the procedure, it always ends bad one way or another. I personally did not even let myself grow a personal opinion about the subject, you just do not grow a personal opinion, you nay, you nod and look away. 
I sensed some had minor objections that held within, unspoken, wisely done, but what matters is it was MOSTLY agreed upon. Mostly. Unanimity has never been a requirement in these procedures, mostly was just enough. Sometimes I wonder how I let myself look over the fact that we have become such frivolous creatures that we just need to mostly agree on a ‘life’, initiation or determination of it. But then again, we had become such frivolous creatures long ago and now we had grown accustomed to its drawbacks, we even consider them commodities. 
Yes, we have lost a lot on the way to our survival, we might have even lost our humanity, but we are still alive, you see, no matter what, we are still alive, and that all it matters. Human or not, we are still alive. Most of us don’t even have the same organic construction anymore that once has defined us as humans. Human is not in the genetics or physicality, or in the character. Human, now, is in the game. You pick a side to fight with and you stick with till the end. Human is just the name given. Of course, one has to have some form of attachment to the name one way or another, say, the looks, the chemistry, the genes, but most of the time these attachments were over or under looked as long as it served to purpose, being, winning. And we have been winning, wouldn’t you say? We have been winning oh so gloriously and celebrating it as well.
It is not appropriate for me to talk in the name of the humans. After all, I may be the one true human left in the party, I still don’t like the kind. I despise the human. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, I am one of the true ones left. There are 3 of us. So I reign this human kind, because I am one, a true one, though I hate it but cannot be accepted in any other party, because I am true. I have been working against my kind for sometime now, wanting to extinct it. I do not tolerate love. Love makes you do stupid things proven over the history over and over again. I forbid love. I do not allow love in my reign. Go to other parties if you want to love. They will let you love. Some of them thrive from love. They only survive through love. They live in the desert and I do not bother with them, hence they destroy themselves with this thing called love. They kill in the name of it, they hurt in the name of it and they will extinct in the name of it and I will only watch. I do not bother with them. They will bring their own end with or without my help. But I will not allow love spreading within my land. I want a clean end for my party, not a messy one that the desert parties are having come at them.
So I am executing all over the land, with or without a reason, hoping one would rise against and overthrow me. But guess what? Nobody rises. Everybody watches, knowing that one day it will be their turn to die and I kill and kill and wait and hope for that one that will rise against. In the end we are down to the core 3 true humans, looking at each other and I realize: fuck. What to do now? I cannot get myself to kill my own blood, my mother and father, neither they can kill me. So here we are, in this abundant land waiting to be milked, But we cannot do anything because we are disabled, we are confused, we have lost the track of our reasoning. We didn’t see it coming until the last member was killed. And when that one was gone and I ordered for the next one to be brought in and there was no sound, no movement that I could catch from the corner of my eye, mom said it:
“I think you’ve done ‘em all.” I think I’ve done them all. What is next mom? Silence. Dad? Silence. It all up to me again and I am yet again answerless, not that my answers were ever correct.
I order we wait. We wait. We wait. Until we forget what do we wait for and who we are. How long would that take?