Wednesday, December 23

Coupling

Coupling - Season 1 Episode 4 - Inferno:


"I like naked women! I'm a bloke! I'm supposed to like them; we're born like that! We like naked women as soon as we're pulled out of one! Halfway down the birth canal we're already enjoying the view! Look, it is the four pillars of the male heterosexual psyche. We like naked women, stockings, lesbians, and Sean Connery best as James Bond. Because that is what being a boy is, and if you don't like it, darling, join a film collective. Look, I want to spend the rest of my life with the woman at the end of that table there, but that does not stop me from wanting to see several thousand more naked bottoms before I die, because that's what being a bloke is! When man invented fire, he didn't say, "Hey, let's cook!" He said, "Great! Now we can see naked bottoms in the dark!" As soon as Caxton invented the printing press, we were using it to make pictures of - hey! - naked bottoms! We've turned the internet into an enormous international database of... naked bottoms! So, you see, the story of male achievement through the ages, feeble though it may have been, has been the story of our struggle to get a better look at your bottoms."

Friday, December 18

Seyirci II

"After your afternoon love makings, if there is not even one lighthouse in your with care created gardens to spot a light to the storms breaking in yourself, then the time passing by will ruin you even if you comfort your life with fake smiles.. The life that you would like to keep away from your known memories eats your minutes like a time worm. What is left over to you on the witnessing of the happenings is actually yourself, who you want to stage on behalf of your doings far away from your fights. Your optimistic minutes that you wasted with the passion to “selfishness" and you.. The truths that you always stayed away knowing that you couldn't stand the shock, if you would admit it to yourself.. Your hopes that will not leave you to your loneliness even if you want, your chaos, your complexity; your being used to loyalties full of love and you.. The way you explain yourself with the words you don't know where to use and afterwards, your giving up from yourself like nothing happened and you.. Your reproach to the man writing these words, like they are not from you; and your hopeless shadow showing up on the light behind the paper walls that you actually built from your reproaches and you.. would I say these, you would be so willing to go away from these pages, I know.. You are hiding.. Your arrivals to home, from the long and tiring, boring and bored roads that you used to and full of your hate; and while you are on those roads, from roads that you prison hundreds of more adjectives in your mind, somehow never make you happy. After all the harbors that you didn't bind your happiness to; especially while there are dark and cold storms breaking in yourself so much, it doesn't effect you that you don't bind the most fearful place of your life to the roads. And on top of these, the noises and known fights, at home where the getting harder to bear roads are ending; in your sun smelling room where you spread your worlds into each corner, your not being willing to do's and not being able to do's; the you that is squeezed after all your "et cetera"s.. again, you.. I am talking about you. The you, that you actually know very well. The you that you are trying to freshly get to know with every doings of yours and the you that you give up in every thought of failure of yours.. I am explaining you. I am explaining you, who would do the things in the name of human kind kids, for them, even if you wouldn't do it for yourself or don't do it even if you would; and struggle for it; you who doesn't give up on this only. Even if you don't believe me, even if you don't believe in yourself.. I miss you. Once with your being like a fresh and dynamic, un-frayed and clean baby in the mornings of the days far away from shines, you are being a stranger tome and many others who has to fight with you to make you feel the love, even if you don't believe in yourself and that you are being loved.. Everybody is right for themselves, everything is right with the assurance of the trust given by the perfectiveness. So familiar this view seems to you, who knows better than anyone the days that he goes through. This is the view that you have lived through, have seen when you have lived, have gotten bored when you have seen, and have gotten bored of seeing when you have lived. The days, that has to end somewhere; that you said somewhere will end, will stay in a corner of your life like your observer-ness, as far as you stay as an observer to them.. You have to give up with your stubbornness, you have sacrifice from your fake happinesses. You have to face the you who is hiding behind these words; you have to teach yourself to make him live.. before it is too late.." 


"Yorgun akşamüstü sevişmelerinin ardından, içinde kopan fırtınalara ışık tutacak tek bir deniz feneri bile yoksa o özenle yarattığın bahçelerinde; geçen zaman yazık eder sana, sen sahte gülücüklerle avutsan da yaşamını.. Bir zaman kurdu gibi kemirir dakikalarını bildik anılardan uzak tutmaya çabaladığın yaşam. Olup bitenlerin şahitliğinde sana kalan, aslında kavgalarından uzak yapmışlıklarında sahneye koyduğun sensindir. “Bencillik” tutkusuyla harcadığın iyimser dakikaların ve sen.. Kendine itiraf etsen, yaşayacağın şoka dayanamayacağını bildiğinden, hep uzak durduğun gerçeklerin.. Seni yalnızlığına, sen istesen de bırakmayacak umutların, karmaşan, karmaşıklığın; sevgi dolu bağlılıklara alışmışlığın ve sen... Nerede kullanıldığını bilmediğin sözlerle kendini anlatışın ve ardından, hiçbir şey olmamışcasına kendinden vazgeçişin ve sen.. Tüm bunları yazan adama, bunlar senden değilmişcesine sitemlerin ve aslında sitemlerinden ördüğün kağıttan duvarların ardındaki ışıktan beliren çaresiz gölgen ve sen.. dersem, çekip gitmeye can atarsın bu sayfalardan, bilirim.. Saklanıyorsun.. Uzun ve yorgun, sıkıcı ve bıkkın, alışılmış ve nefretinle dolu yollardan ve sen bu yollardayken, daha yüzlerce sıfatı aklında hapsettiğin yollardan eve varışların bir türlü mutlu etmez seni. Mutluluğunu bağlamadığın onca sakin limanın ardından; hele bir de içinde karanlık ve soğuk fırtınalar esiyorken bunca, gidip de yaşamının en korkak yerini yollara bağlamayışın da dokunmaz sana zaten. Bir de üstüne üstlük, o katlanılması sana gittikçe imkansızlaşan yolların son bulduğu yerde, evinde; kendince dünyalarını her bir köşesine serpiştirdiğin güneş kokulu, bir o kadar da güneşten uzak odanda seni bekleyen o hep bildik kavgaların ve gürültü, yapmak isteyişlerin ve yapamayışların ve vesairelerin ardında sıkışıp kalan yine sen.. yine sen.. Senden söz ediyorum. Senin de aslında çok iyi bildiğin senden. Senin de her yaptığınla yeni baştan tanımaya çalıştığın ve her başarısızlık düşüncende vazgeçtiğin senden.. Seni anlatıyorum. Kendi için yapmayacağı ve yapacak olsa da yapmadığı her şeyi, insanoğlu çocukları adına, onlar için yapan, bunun için çabalayan, bir bundan vazgeçemeyen seni anlatıyorum sana. Bir o kadar bana inanmasan da, bir o kadar kendine inanmasan da.. Seni özlüyorum. Bir zamanlar günlerin ışıltıdan uzak sabahlarında, taze ve dinamik, yıpratılmamış ve tertemiz bir bebek gibi oluşunla seni özletiyorsun bana, kendine ve seni sevdiğine inanmasan da, sevgiyi sana hissettirmek için seninle savaşmak zorunda kalan onca insana.. Herkes kendince haklı, her şey olup bitmişliğinin verdiği güvenle doğru bu günlerde. Öylesine tanıdık geliyor ki bu manzara yaşadığın günleri herkesten iyi bilen sana. Her yaşadığın, yaşadıkça gördüğün, gördükçe yaşamaktan sıkıldığın, yaşadıkça görmekten bıktığın manzaradır bu aslında. Bir yerlerde bitmesi gerekir; bir yerlerde sonu gelir dediğin günler, aslında sen onlara böyle seyirci kaldıkça, sen seyirciliğin gibi kalacaklar yaşamının bir köşesinde.. Vazgeçmelisin inadından, feda etmelisin yalancı mutluluklarından. Tüm bu sözlerin ardında saklanan seni artık önüne koyup, onu yaşatmayı öğretmelisin kendine.. çok geç olmadan.."

Thursday, December 17

Sweet melody


"When you are ready I will surrender take me and do as you wish. Have what you want your way's always the best way. I have succumbed to this passive sensation peacefully falling away. I am a zombie your wish will command me, laugh as I fall to my knees. Can I control this empty delusion lost in the fire below? And you come running your eyes will be open. And when you come back I'll be as you want me, only so eager to please. My little song will keep you beside me thinking your name as I sing Now you can't help it if you have been tempted by fruit hanging ripe on the tree. And I feel useless don't care what the truth is you will be here come the day. Truth do you hear me? Don't try to come near me. So tired, I sleep through the light. If you desire to lay here beside me come to my sweet melody."

Tuesday, December 15

Illusive

Noon lines: Time is an illusive material that we love to play with thinking that when we "make" it strong enough, it will be the run away door in our difficulties.. Like everything else we "make" strong and powerful in our existence, it is the time that we put into the most precious corner of our lives and hide ourselves beneath. It is the time that we arrange our things according to, it is the time that creates our plans. It is the time that we allow our emotions to grow up; it is yet still the time that we let our feelings to change in. We are leaning ourselves to the foggy existence of time with the hope that everything will be fine if we wait enough, everything will be good, everything will be just the way they "suppose to be". We give even the responsibility to time to repair wounds, to make us get mature, to get more success, happiness and health. We celebrate with the time that we give different names to; we shake hands, we hug, we smile, we laugh, we cry. We define "specialties" in it, we put "valuables" on it, we hide "secrets" under it. Despite of the dear quote of Albert, it is our favorite habit to let ourselves to the flow of time and wait for things to happen. Time is our hero, time is our knight; time is our day and night.. Time is an illusive material that we think we love to play with; yet, at the end, we are its play toys with our beloved pride and prejudice..

Wednesday, December 9

Alfa Romeo

Afternoon lines: It has to be a bordeaux color Alfa Romeo 146 Boxer with green dashboard lights. The sun doesn't have to shine that day. It could be rainy, maybe even with some storm. You may not like the wind, but once you close the door, even the wind is fine.. The name of it doesn't have to be a "road trip". Not even a trip it has to be. Just drive out of the parking spot, just drive out to be gone.. The destination doesn't have to be far. Neither close it has to be. Maybe a place where you have been before, maybe even better a place where you have never seen, never been.. It doesn't have to be a friend in the seat next to you, neither a partner, nor your precious one. You don't have to know the person, you don't have to ask. It doesn't even have to be anyone.. Just you and "Norah Jones' Sunrise"; just you and your sunrise.. It doesn't have to be an evening or afternoon, maybe deep in the night; early in the morning is also fine.. The decision doesn't have to be wrong, neither it has to be one of the rights.. It just has to be a bordeaux color Alfa Romeo 146 Boxer with green dashboard lights..

Sunday, December 6

Sun-day

"Sun"day lines: It is easier to be no one. A robot. A machine of some sort. A working non-organism with minimum to no needs, no support, no attention, no interest. A collection of metallic parts, some stones, some ceramics or some glass of some sort; even maybe plastic to bend a little when necessary.. It is easier to be no one. A robot. A machine of some sort. A functioning block of parts with no communication needs, no interaction, little to none expectations. No feelings, no thoughts, nothing that could go up or down, nothing that could change or try to change something or someone. No willingness too.. It is easier to be no one. A robot. A machine of some sort. Then it doesn't matter too, even if it rains; is lonely or cold..

Friday, December 4

Melon


Friday evening lines: Being together with someone, although anticipated otherwise, is not about "love" at all. It is just about the melon being too big and once you cut it, you better eat it together with someone, so that it does not get bad in the fridge.. Or what about the cold bed right before you go to sleep? Of course it is easier to go in with someone so that the blanket will be warm quicker. Not to mention these long, endless movies in the TV. It is obvious that you need someone to tell you what happened when you went to pee.. How about the Christmas tree? Every time you have to go up and down to pick up this shiny ball from the box. A second hand there and it barely takes time to make it ready.. The walk in the park. Come on! They will call the hospital if they see you talking to yourself. It is definitely better to share the road with someone, then you will not even notice anymore how time passes.. And when the heavy rain starts. Who are you going to show your a little fearful excitement to?.. Even scientists could prove that a breakfast with another person will wake you up quicker and voila! You are ready for the day before you go out!.. And all those friends with wrong clothing choices, all the complaints of the boss, the traffic on the way home, the neighbor's naughty children, the policeman writing you a ticket for parking just for two minutes, you have to tell them all to someone for no reason, right?.. So, being together with someone is not about "love" at all.. It is just about the melon being too big for one..

Moment

It is the moment when you wake up from the foggy dreams and face the foggy street lamp outside of your window with a stubborn light struggling through the night and you realize the existence of the dreamer in you has overtaken what else you might have had; and when you wake up after this very moment, that you are alone as you have always been..