Kestane aşkına.

Kestane,gürgen, palamut,
Altı yaprak üstü bulut,
Gel sen burada derdi unut,
Orman ne güzel,
Ne güzel.

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Walking through

When she found herself piling up a list of songs she hasnt listened to for a long time, she decided to embrace the growing feeling. It was sneaking in like a drug, slowly dissolving in her veins and travelling to different parts of her body. Being aware didnt help to define what it was, as it appeared at different instances - in the midst of walking through a breeze for example, or observing a bird passing by, and then there were melodies crawling her mouth- pulling her to the songs. It was easy to be drawn to the familiarity of it. Warm and secure. Calm and see-through. And it was born at the instance of a talk- an insignificant moment for many but too late for her as she got lost in the flow and decided to welcome the new feelings. Just a talk, I assure you, an exchange of words in an attempt to express feelings and thoughts. But the flow - it was familiar, yet unknown and welcoming. Noone could tell the invisible knot that was being knit- except maybe the goodbye hugs were getting
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Kesfedilmemis Element

Ne itiyordu beni o sayfalarca yazilari yazmaya?  10 sene önce bu blogu neden actigimi hatirliyorum. Üniversitenin ilk dönemiydi, bir konferansa katilmistik, bir hoca bize bir seyler anlatmisti, acaba neydi soylemeye calistigi seyin özu.. Hatirimda kalan tek sey bize bir takim tavsiyelerde bulunduguydu, gelecege yönelik. Bunlardan biri sosyal bir platformda kendimizi ifade etmemizin gerekliligi uzerineydi. O zaman yazdigim onlarca günluk gelmisti aklima. Sonra o zamanlarda cok tecrübeli ve hayattan o siralarda oldukca keyif alir gibi gorunen genc bir cocugun gezi blogunu gostermisti bizlere. Acaba o genc adam hangi sikintilarla basa cikiyordu o siralarda, kim bilir? Ama o zaman, hic de öyle görünmüyordu. Iste ondan sonraki aylardaydi blogspotta bir seyler karalamaya baslayisim.  Geriye dönüp baktigimda, ne söylemek istedigimden cok da emin degilmisim, ama iste, baslamisim bir kere.  “Aslnda benim hakkımda hiç bir şey bilmiyorladı, beni tanımıyorlardı, yalnızca adı
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No Screws Loose

  It was a rainy august day when I got departed from the last piece of screw in my jaw. I welcomed it more than 10 years ago, after seemingly a brave decision to take part on a new orthodontical method for correcting teeth and how the mouth closes.  I still remember the doctor trying to convince me that some people were flying from other cities just to have their teeth corrected there. Not that the method had any particular popularity or needed selling out, it was more the dedication and willingness to have a better-looking teeth that my doctor tried to impose on the patients. He would make pictures on each step, which I assume was part of some PhD thesis along the way. At the day when he put 4 screws to my mouth and in the following months and years, it did not really seem to be the best idea to make- for whatever it was worth. But then, when everything was over and my mouth was free from all the metals and screws, it finally kicked in that I made the right decision and I could fi
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