The New Year

I will be abroad in the following weeks, I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and a Marvelous New Year!

Any New Year's resolutions?

With Love,
Eda

He

He promised me sunshine, but greeted me with rain.
He begged me to stay, but he was the first one to go away.

His words first warmed me, now they freeze me.
He said he loved me but now he hates me.

Reading 3

I was running down the stairs in the subway station. A very old tiny little lady caught my attention. Within her little body and with her little steps, she was trying to catch the train. I slowed down my steps to accompany her. I was scared to think what would happen to her, if she didn't slow down. I could hear her breathing. What if she just had a heart attack or would it really worth to risk your life at her age? I wasn't so sure.I wanted to make sure that she caught the train safe and sound. I didn't enter the train before she did. My thoughtful steps followed her in silence. She finally sat next to a group of teenagers, secured her shopping bags and started looking at me. I wholeheartedly wanted to look her in the eye. I tried. But when I looked at her, I saw one of her eyes were half-closed and the other was hidden after her blurry glasses.

The idea of getting old seems so far away most of the times, but in the moments such these, I feel I am included in a process I would not like to make a part of.

Triangular Irony of Life

She's counting down her last days in this world. Despite the passing years, she fears darkness like a child. She's reluctant to leave all these behind, but her daughter gives her a reason to catch the light, to be alive.

Another woman, sitting right across her, is also counting down days to take her daughter to the light, to the life. Despite the difficulties on her way, she's willing to give it a go. Everything failed, but her daughter will give her a reason to continue.

One defeated, the other winner and me the observer. That's the triangular irony of life.

Sorrow

I didn't forget, nor did I remember, I am living with it every second I breathe.
It wasn't an occurrence neither a memory, it exists here with me.

It didn't kill me neither did it save. But it hurts me every, every day.

He's now gone, neither has he stayed. He turned out to be a shadow, making my life a sorrow.

I don't know

Perhaps it will save me from this emotional prison, perhaps it will liberate me forever, perhaps my mind will blossom new ideas without his shadow in my past or it will be the end of my inspiration, a beginning of infertile ideas, a dark ending for all. I don't know. I just don't know...

Pousada de Juventude, Lisbon 2001

He was a young blond Portuguese man with smiling eyes. As I was leaving the keys of my room into his hands at the reception, he spoke to me with his eyes and with no words. I answered him in the same way: with a sincere smile from heart.
When I left the hostel, my mind was left to this young blond man, but not my heart. It was given to a brunette, waiting for me at the door.

365 days, 52 weeks ago

While he was kissing me, my eyes were fixed at the alarm clock on the bedside table. My body was against his, but my thoughts were in the past.365 days, 52 weeks ago started an emptiness in my life. 365 days, 52 weeks ago at this particular hour, 12.00 p.m, my father passed away. Despite the passed months, I still find it difficult to believe. It feels like yesterday. His last breathe, the last tears falling down on his cheeks,his lost battle was the sum of my last meeting with my father.

His tired but big body was still. His hands turned colder and colder. His heart wasn't beating anymore. I had never seen anything so real in my life. It was so real that I doubted my own existence.

365 days, 52 weeks ago started an emptiness inside and it will always be there.

Love

I was standing still in rain, feeling the rain drops falling on my closed eyes. Even if I didn't see, I felt the beauty of them.

I had you in my deepest thoughts. I loved you with all my heart. Even if I didn't see you, I knew that I loved you.

I am idle in the sun, feeling the sun rays warming me up. Even if I wouldn't like to, I run, run away from you.

I have you in my thoughts, inspiring me every day. Even if I still have unnamed feelings for you, I know that I am not in love with you.

Fortgotten Birthday

Resentfully, in a complaining voice he protested:

- I don't believe you forgot my birthday!

She smiled bitterly. It was true she had forgotten, but didn't take so long to reply his words:

- I don't believe you kept me away from your life for 6 long years!

He protested a day, she sank in silence during 2191 days. Human beings are like that. They can find all the right in the world to make you sad, to get you out of their lives, but you're always expected to be there for them, not forgetting their birthdays and so on.

In those long 6 years, I only remember one thing: The funeral of my father, not capricious behavior of a lover.

What was...

First they were around my head,
Now they are inside my head. And I don't know what to do with them.
What was out of me is now inside me.
What was close is now far away.
What was me now is someone else.

Nothing But Her Story

In her hesitant steps she breathed the newly awoken city. Nothing mattered to her. The city was enchanting, the morning was beautiful and she felt she was alive deep inside. This was nothing but her story and she was passionate about it.

He and His Dreams

He never knew how to be happy with what he had.

When he, as a young boy, suffered from poverty in a foreign country as a son of an immigrant, he longed for money. For money would give him everything he wanted: A better life.
Years later, as a businessman, at the top of his career, he’s got what he longed for: Money. Great number of banknotes he received at the end of each month didn’t make much difference. He asked for more. If not money, more conditions to have a better and better life. Sadly, he’s never realized how happy he could be with the life he had. He forgot what he has now is what he longed for.

If you can’t be happy with what you have, how will you ever be happy with what you will have?

Miss C.

Her name is Miss C, Miss Melancholy.
Don't try to hide your pain from me.
Your eyes tell me all your story.
That's why you hide your eyes from me in your moments of vulnerability.

Let these words to ease your pain, let the sun shine over you again.

Good-bye

Your beautiful heart is now given to someone else than I.
Your smile will now brighten someone else's life.
Your words will not touch me anymore. Neither will your hands.
I wish you happiness.
I wish you love.
I wish you all.
Good-bye, my lonely star.

Reading

She entered the train with smiling eyes. The color of her eyes was matching her bag. She took out her notebook and started scribbling some lines. I couldn't read. More than what she was writing, I'd like to read her thoughts. Who was she? What was she thinking now? Was she happy? I was probably asking the questions she has never asked herself. But something weird, something disturbing, something reluctant about her stopped me. I could neither continue trying nor could take my eyes off of her.

I found it amazing to look at my own reflection on the window of the train.

Tomorrow in Sintra?

I didn’t forget my umbrella on the bus, but left it there on purpose. As soon as I got out, I started feeling raindrops on my face. In few minutes I could feel their tickling presence on my chest. Rain cleans my thoughts, purifies my heart and awakens my body. Oh, how long it’s been since I made love in the rain! Tell me my dear, tomorrow in Sintra at our place?

When My Words turn into Stardusts

Years and years I seeked my way to you, but I failed.
At the moments I thought I would see you, everything vanished. Only I stood.
Why did you always have to be so far away?
Now I got my words crashed against you and turned into stardusts.
Back to my destiny and to my melancholy.
Now, shine, shine, lonely little star,
It's your time today to feel alive.

My Words Are Broken-

There were no words to be spoken. With time standing still as you were lying on my lap, there were just you and me, my love, surrounded with obscure feelings connected us once, and led us surrender ourselves secretly to the night.

The city was wearing her most fascinating dress at that night. That dark dream- dress was put so elegantly on the sleeping city that every tiny flickering sparkle of her dark dress was revealing our secret dreams, concealed in delicate rhymes of the sleep, waiting timidly to be glanced at once in a while.

In this drowsy view of the city, we, two strangers, with totally different backgrounds, yet acquainted feelings met under the same sky, which had been falling upon us as the night went by.

Our roles were set on this occult night's stage already, and waiting for the right time for the right move failed in this reality. After all, time did not exist for us at that night: every move was right, signifying its solid accurateness, and every minute referred to a great timing, denying its existence. We were there just to have this moment, together to exist in night's ever lasting memories.

Millions of thoughts were crossing my mind, wandering endlessly back and forth on the imaginary reality of this particular moment. It was the urge to confront reality drew me closer to his lips, without knowing the consequences of reality would convert to fantasy instantly.

Touching of lips, trashing of tongues is the sum how that exquisite moment occurred. I felt connected to him in an unknown way, in a very obscure way that the more passionately I kept on kissing him, the less sure I became of what I was kissing. That particular night, he and me let the cheese moon and dreaming city in on our secret, the rest was meaningless.

Since then I'm lost in this universe, with a restless conscious, tracing my path by pursuing the star dusts, remained from a summer night's dream, with everlasting hope to reach "there'; blinded with sublime darkness, with no time to sustain, will my floating conscious ever find him again?

No Readings Today

In one of those travels alone, I felt the core of my existence in this universe. Small but firm I DO exist and I found it irresistably seductive. While I was travelling through other people's deep yet shallow thoughts, I GOT a great pleasure with existence.

Reading 2

A teenager around 17 years old with a big belly sits in front of me. Before her smiling eyes, I see her big round belly. Obviously her baby is counting down to be born or rather it is the mother who is counting down days to have her baby, I can't decide which. I can see she's having difficult time to breath. To breath for one is already a pain in this world, I just can't imagine what she's been going through! I am startled to see her never-ending smiles. I can't understand. I just can't understand. She's just a child, yet carrying another child in her belly. I give up. Another teenager at her age sends big smiles in distance. That must be the father. I see their smiling eyes, I see how much in love they are. They begin taking their pictures with their mobile phone. Well thought. It's a moment to remember. All my negative thoughts dissapear. Just hope their family game doesn't end like their first sexual experience: A disaster.

Reading 1

An old man at his late 60s. With his hat matching his suit he looked like a true gentleman. While I was studying his details, his hand holding a newspaper caught my attention and surprised me. He was wearing a ring on his little finger. A delicate ring of a woman with a diamond stone. That ring took me to a different reality in his world: To the death of his wife. With my eyes fixed on his ring, I traveled through his life. How difficult it must have been for him to be lonely. Elderly Latin men, in general, can’t survive long without their wives. For who shapes their lives are always women. Now he looked like an orphan to me… A part of him was buried long time ago along with his wife and as an attempt to fulfill that missing part of his life, he decided to wear her ring. A ring he offered years and years ago to his beloved one. He caught my eyes on his ring. Short after he left the train with a final encounter with my eyes.

When A Reader Meets Another Reader

That was the least I expected to happen. But it happened. She sat right across me and started: Reading me! Just as those people, sitting next or across you on the train and read your newspaper irritatingly, I got incredibly pissed off. She started with my eyes, then examined carefully each item of my clothing. Interestingly, she paid a great deal of attention to my "twin" shoes. As the seconds were flying, I became more and more disturbed. I had to find a way stop her reading. And I coughed to take her eyes off of me. She understood and looked at me directly in the eye. I wanted her to read one thing: "Don't!" in my eyes. I cracked a cynical smile at her. I didn't let her get into my world and read through my pages.

This time I won and she left the train with a mission unaccomplished.

Reader

I like to read. I read books, letters, e-mails, newspapers, magazines, billboard advertisements, bus schedules, city maps, street names, graffities, short text messages,nutrition tables on biscuit packages... More than these I read people. I study their faces carefully and try not to miss one detail. Each detail opens up their unknown world to me. I read their worries, joys, dreams, hopes and disappointments. I start breathing with them. Their worries become mine now. So do their happiness. After revealing their universe and traveling through it, I step back silently from their world. As I leave the train, I look at their faces once again with a secret smile to thank. For this beautiful experience I have just had in their world...

Barcelona, 27 October 2006

She wore the same pair of shoes, the same worn jeans and put the same shining smile on her face. She was in Barcelona once again. she got lost in the crowd, passed unknown tunnels, talked to the same language: humanity...
A cat interrupted her thoughts. Was it stuck somewhere? Possibly. Was it hungry? Most probably. She tried hard to reach its cries, but no luck. Only when she gave in, a little kitten appeared in front of her, hungry: for love...
She got her bike, rode the entire city. A drug-addict was yelling at her, she thought, perhaps yelling at red dragons. She was trapped by the red traffic light. He drove closer and closer. She wore the same shining smile, looked at him in the eye and talked to the same language: humanity...

27 October

When I was a child I would always calculate how old I was going to be in 2000,
For I would finally be a grown up with a strong personality.

Today I turn 28. In 65 days we will welcome the New Year, the year 2007.
7 years will have passed soon since we welcomed 2000.

Now I think how my little world was, when I was a little child...

She and He- Without Love

- I'm in love with you! he cried.
- No, you are not, she replied coldly. "You are in love with the image you've created in your mind. And I'm not her and never going to be."
He was desperate, he didn't get a word of what she was saying.
- I'm in love with what I see in front of me! he protested.
- That's exactly the point, you're blinded by your own vision, you do NOT see me...

A Farewell

He was sure that he was still in love with her.
She was sure that things have changed.
They hugged each other for the last time. They agreed without saying a word.
They were not in love with each other anymore, but they were in love with their moments together in the past. They ceased to exist in their lives long time ago. Except in memories.
The memories were alive, but not love.
She put her coat on and left him.
He stood there still, without saying good-bye, looked at her, looked at all the beautiful memories she took away from him.

Writing

I was flabbergasted. I vacillated. I thought I was much more prudent than before. It was a total catastrophe and it was slowly wearing me down. On one of those days of contemplation, inner calculations and confrontations, I found myself scribbling down. The hypocrisy of the world revolted me. And here I started toying with the idea of writing, exposing my mind to the perceptive individuals, as an attempt to seek refuge in words.

She and Her Green Shoes

It was a story of a young handsome woman with golden hair.
It was a story of a young beautiful woman whose deep eyes were matching her green shoes.
It was a story of those green shoes, one night, having slipped off from her feet and made her walk bare feet on the long, dark yet glamorous streets of an old city.
She walked down those ancient streets with her fragile heart.
She walked into the night with her enormous heart protected by her iron thoughts.
It was a story of a little golden girl who has never escaped but walked directly to his face. She knew she could do it.

Indeed, she was able to do that. And she did.

She said “Good-bye”

In her strong-will, there existed a little child in need of protection.

No, indeed, she wasn’t able to. She could not do and she did not do.

She preferred to say “See you soon”

With tears in her green eyes, with perplexed thoughts in her mind, with strangeness and obscurity at her heart, she was hardly able to utter these words:

"See you soon…"

Old Woman and Her T.V.

She was around 80 years old. Every day she would sit in front of her t.v. and watch the fast-moving images motionlessly. Each time I looked at her, I pitied her, I pitied her life. To me, she was living in vain, without any purpose. Her life seemed nothing but a pure lie that needed to be told.
Ten years have passed since those days and nothing has changed in her life. She is still there watching her old t.v. But me? I feel guilty. I feel like a relentless cynic for having judged that old woman's life so unjustly- in front of my t.v...

Guilty by thought
Guilty of thought

Happy by mouth
Happy at heart.

Life just goes on.

Drama Queen

Yes, I am a true Drama Queen.
Let my show begin!
But first help me to ease my pain.

It was a brief moment, a short flashback to my past made me realized a bitter fact about me. Or to put it more correctly about my life. I was stupidified to find out the fact that all those nightmare-like years were indeed the most beautiful years of my life.

I know, this is all about me. I know this is all about taking my role neatly in life:

Yes, I am a true Drama Queen...
And yes, let my show begin...
But I just don't know how you will ever ease this pain?

A Strange Interview

- Where's your workplace?
- I work in my head.
- What's your job?
- Word engineer.
-Can you explain this to us?
- I build the words carefully to have a beautiful sentence to admire and each beautiful sentence calls for the next level: A paragraph. Then many paragraphs turn into a story, my story. That's how I build my world.
- Right. When can you start?
- I've never stopped it...

Past

A person who has lost his past indeed has lost himself.
A person who lost himself has been dead for long.

Hours

She checked her watch. He is late, she thought. In front of the window, sank in the silence of her mind, she was looking at the dark road curiously. Her mother asked:
-“Is he coming?”
She replied sadly:
-“No...not yet.”
She knew deep in her heart that he would never be back. She looked at the dark road once again and closed the window.

She

She refused to speak. Her words would hurt him. Sank in silence, she stood looking at the river. She had already made her mind; she wouldn't marry him. She knew she wasn't made for that. She refused to be a part of an unreal universe. Her thoughts were interrrupted by the slam of the door.

She felt a great relief in her heart.

The Best Days of His Life

He said these were the best days of his life. She wondered how. How's it possible to utter such words without even having lived half of his life. Lies, she thought. Early, white lies.

Endings in Her Life

She never liked the ending of films. For she has seen many endings in her life: ending of a relationship, ending of a friendship, ending of a lie, ending of a life...

The Color of the Sky

It wasn't the color of his skin neither his eyes.
It was the color of the sky
that got me nearby

Today

Don't touch me today! But tomorrow you can smash me into pieces!

Thinking Why

With three words- i.e. I, love, you- you can tell a world of things. I wonder why we fail to express ourselves and understand each other with millions of words we have!

On Such A Sunny Winter Day...

The smell of his father's skin was still in her hands.

The coldness of him in her skin, the muds of his graveyard on her shoes, looking at what was left from him, a piece of soil, she was crying, she was cursing, she was shaking.

He was burried without her.

He was burried deep in her skin...

On such a sunny winter day in the world of ugliness.

So The Story Begins...

Once upon a time, in search for a refuge in somewhere, some other place rather than in my innermost self, I saw his picture on my school's weekly newspaper. With sparkling blue eyes and a sweet smile on face, he wasn't akin to anything I was used to.

After our first encounter through the newspaper, he became what I most wanted, what I most needed. Then, one day, he went away with the same sweet smile on his face. And I, I stayed with the newspaper.

Today, I still keep this newspaper in my drawer.

Today, I still keep on seeing him through that newspaper.

She Chose Him

She chose him.
Because for him it didn’t matter what she had had.

For the rest, it was valuable, it was unique, it was sacred, it was her life.

For her it meant nothing, it was nothing but a chain to be broken in order to free first her mind then her body. From the very first moments, she knew that for him it was important only because she had chosen him.

It was an honor for him and an honor for her-perhaps in a different way. And she gave him and herself that honor on the very first day of their encounter, never to be forgotten.

Being a Part of a Sad Story

It's so difficult to be a part of a sad story.

The story swallows you in, whether you like it or not, make you surrender to all the painful consequences of the events. You search for a way out in this never-ending story, but all the exists are closed until you suffer what you're given to suffer.

It's so difficult to be a part of a sad story, not knowing how it would end.

Life and Death

Life starts only today for those who are destined to die tomorrow. They begin to live starting from the very first minute they know their death is not so far. Awareness of their existence is felt through endless pains, both in their bodies and thoughts.

When they most want to stay alive, they die...in silence.

She, He and The Other

He's making love to his wife in their bedroom-as usual.Startled by her indifference in bed, he reaches an orgasm. And she? He never knows. He'd never know. Litting his cigarette, he resents his life secretly. His thoughts travel back and forth to her. He wonders in whose arms she falls asleep every, every night.

She and He

She
She is travelling by bus while reading a book. She catches a glimpse of her past through one word hidden hundreds of lines of the book. She stops reading. Her world stops for a while on that bus. She sinks in deep thoughts. She remembers him.

He
He's studying at his desk, listening to some music meanwhile. He catches a phrase in the lyrics of the song. He stops his work. His world stops by that song. He sinks in deep thoughts. He remembers her.

She
The trip is now over, she's back to reality. It was a beautiful dream, she thinks, and smiles at her boyfriend sitting next to her.

He
The song is now over, he sighes deeply. It was a beautiful dream, he thinks, and continues his work-as nothing has ever happened.

All I've been Writing

I'm not telling stories, I'm talking about my life!

Story of a Promise

Locked into his loneliness, he was afraid of giving a promise. In a world of broken promises, he yielded to keep his words. Although he held them so strongly in his hands, they managed to slip through his fingers, smashed against the ground and broken into pieces.

She hold one piece of a word in her hand and reluctantly put it back where it belonged to.

As We Grow Older...

As we grow older the definitions which give meanings to our lives change. What was once love now is called passion. What was once avoided is now what we've become.
Growing old is just scary.

The Words

Among faces, voices and colors, what seduced me most was the words. I could picture the faces or by the help of a paint-brush create new colors on my palette or simple tape my voice.But, I know none of these would satisfy me. I used to believe that I'd chosen the words, but today I know the words have chosen me.

Repeat Life

She had the key to all the mystery surrounded her: All she needed to do was to repeat the life through creating a new being, that is through becoming a mother. She thought she wanted something incredibly great, something that would give a meaning to her life, something that would make her happy... Yet, she had forgotten that she would repeat the routine. And she gave birth to her child. Poor thing, she would never see her misfortune that she indeed had been a slave of a biological destiny to repeat life, inside.

His words

He spoke to me but his words never reached me. It felt like I was surrounded by invisible walls, the more I saw him the further he became. I looked at him in the eye in search for a hidden meaning. I held his hand to feel him near by. Hearing his words I wanted his words to reach me.

But, I lost myself, I lost his words.

I'm Smiling

I'm smiling at him. I'm cracking another smile to the world. My eyes also smile. But inside I'm not O.K., I'm not O.K.

With You, Without You

I'd like to believe in those talks. I'd like to look up the sky and think you're watching over me like an angel. But I don't. 84 days have passed since you died. While your body falls into pieces under the soil, my soul shatters into pieces.
With you, without you.

Now & Then: Blue

Once blue was the color of his eyes.
Now blue is the color of my thoughts.

Ssh...Ssh...

Ssh, ssh don't speak. Your words cuts me in, makes me bleed.
Sssh, ssh, don't speak...

The Best and the Worst

The best thing about him was his promises.
The worst thing about him was that he never kept them.

This is My Song

This is my song, it's unwritten,
This is my promise, it's broken,
This is your word, untaken,
This is your face, unpleasant...

Rain and Me

Under the heavy rain, you were like a sun. I liked my experience of sending you letters, I should do it more often...

A song...

Come, come back to my life...
Shine, shine over my life...

Writing

Sometimes breathing is so hard...Sometimes feeling is so hard. At these times writing takes me so high...

Never

You've never been with us. With your physical leave your emotional absence had its embodiment. It's so sad than ever to see you're really gone.

My Birthday

One birthday came and went just like any other day. Nothing made it special. Quite the opposite, deep down in me, I felt shattered into pieces, lost, resented to the world, resented to my father...

Happiness, My Happiness

"Happiness comes from inside", he said, still gazing at her with fiercing eyes, "if you can't find it in your unique self, you shouldn't look for it in any other place.Nowhere, nothing and nobody will bring it to you." Then he continued "you don't find it, you just can't find it by going away..."
She liked his words. They all made sense to her. She didn't even think for a second to respond him:
"I'm not looking for happiness, for I'm happy. As a matter of fact, I'm the happiest in my own world...It's..It's the outer world that makes me sad..."

Neither you nor me

Neither in you nor in me, it's in love, it's in life,
my love...

Portugal

Portugal is itself a story, but today it feels like a movie. And I'm sitting here to watch it.
I feel I am an audience to these scenes, to this chaos, to these strangers.
I feel I am a stranger to these pictures which envelops me in it and at the same time leaves me out of it.

I know, I'm not a picture of this movie and I never will. I am rather an audience, condemned to lean back and see.

Writing

Sometimes breathing is so hard.
Sometimes feeling is so hard.
At these times writing takes me so high...