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...

He's Gone...

Little, vulnerable boy's heart couldn't take it any more and he gave in at a sunny December noon. With the tears in his eyes, he left us silently. Nothing could bring him back, for his leave was forever.

It's hard to believe, it's hard to accept and it's hard to deal with.

It's too real to be true, it's too real to happen and it's too real to cope with.

She Wanted

She wanted to speak, but she believed in the sanctity of the words. She remained silent.
She wanted to love, but she believed in sanctity of platonic love. She remained unloved, in pain.
She wanted to see, but she doubted the colors. She remained blind.

Big Loneliness in a Small World

The more my trip got longer, the lonelier I became. This small city enveloped me in such a solitude that once a small issue now became a major one. Today, I suffer a lot from big loneliness in my small world. As loners do laugh on their own in public, tonight I prefered tears. I cried in a public mean on my way "home."

A Big Bleeding Heart in a Small City

Today I saw a man in the underground which reminded me of my ill father. He was a middle-aged man with dark features.Contrary to my father, his body didn't show any evidence of an illness. His appearance had nothing to do with my father's, but still I kept on believing that he looked exactly like my father. The man was a loner like me, I thought. A few minutes later he justified my first thoughts of him. He was smiling alone. Lonely hearts do that quite often. I know. He smiled alone in the crowd of the train a couple of times. Sadly, it was my time to get off the train.

I looked at him once again.I said good-bye to him.

I said good-bye to my father.

Forever.

We Never Know

I was waiting for this silence through my screams.I was looking for this pain through my happiness. Now I have the silence, I have the pain, I have all I wanted.
My role has changed, so are my wishes. Like everyone. What we once want becomes unwanted, what is once undesired now is desired.
We never know.
We never know.

Unrecognized

Sunk in the ugliness of the daily life, there she remained unrecognized.
Her existence was so vivid, so un realistically beautiful. Yet, nobody's seen her. And she stood there timidly in an ugly garden of a church. Unrecognized.
And I. I was blinded by her beauty. I stopped walking to make sure of what I was seeing. She was uniquely beautiful. She was uniquely alive. She was uniquely true,true to life.

It was in another routine day I realized...

When people around me were sunk in the ugliness of the world, I was drawn by the beauty of it.

Ugliness

He wanted to show me all his faces.
I refused.
He wanted me to know all his feelings.
I refused.
I took the beauty out of him, locked it in my heart and left the rest to him.
"I don't need any ugliness, for I'm in love with beauties", I said...
He looked at me and saw the ugliness he didn't want to see in me. Just said.

Night and the Stranger

A crazy thought like vanishing into the night with a stranger crossed my mind. I could do that as he was more than willing to do that. But, I preferred to vanish into the night alone, leaving him completely puzzled and alone.

I did it.

I didn't look back. I was happy. I was free from another dream.

He'll Be Back One Day

I know this eternal silence will be broken by you one day.
I know.
And I am saving my words to show.

Your words will pour onto me once again.
Here I am waiting.
For the words come to me again.

"Your Eyes Are Beautiful," He Said

"Your eyes are beautiful," he said. Like all the men I've known in my life. He was right. They were all right with their words, without knowing their meaning.-will continue-

Her Existence On the Way Home

Her entire existence dissolved to nothingness on her way home...

Together alone with my loneliness

In the empty streets of Lisbon, I was alone with my loneliness last night. As I walked through,empty streets filled my thoughts, shook my feelings.


With a gently blowing breeze caressing my hair,lost not only in my thoughts but also in this planet, I felt incredibly lonely.

Last night, me, my thoughts and my loneliness filled the streets. I was together alone with my loneliness.

Deaf Man

In her world, she felt what would this lead to. And she expressed this resentment. She screamed,but the words were not enough; she cried, but tears didn't wipe her sadness away; she opened her wardrobe and threw all her clothes to the floor. At the edge of losing her mind, she realized once again that her screams were not heard by him.

For the fact that he was deaf, a deaf man.

She

On the surface she was an iceberg, inside her soul was surrounded by flames, burning.

She in Her Reality, He in His Dreams

She's gone. She's gone away.
She'll come. She'll come back, he thought in a state of great desperation. He just couldn't think his life without her. Love, feelings, hopes, expectations, dreams can all be illusions. Life, like her, has illusioned him. Now, there was not much left to be said. She's gone...Life's gone...

From her part, life was always there. Different from him, she knew how to take life and she did. She wanted to be away. Away from him, away from their numb, routine life. She wanted once again to feel what it was like to be alive. When was the last time she had strong feelings that would make her shake? She couldn't remember. Her dead feelings were no longer needed. What was needed was to act. To act her role in life; to save her lost self in this marriage and be herself. Once again. Uniquely, beautifully and freely.