Stockholm

I looked at many photos of Stockholm today, trying to choose a desktop background.
And naturally there are many snowy pictures of Stockholm out there. And I remembered that there were great times. I actually felt like being there.
I hate snow normally, or rather cold, or rather the inconvenience.
But there are just moments, after the snow has fallen heavily and covered the whole place. A silence descends. The white being so easy on the eyes, it is one of the most peaceful things in life to walk in such moments.
Especially in Stockholm. There is probably no other city as beautiful. My memories of Stockholm under the snow is surprisingly scarce. One doesn't want to go out then. And it is usually dark when one has free time. And I focus my attention usually on not sliding. But I know.
Snow adds a further serenity to Stockholm. Like a wedding gown. And you know then where all the tales you read as a child should have taken place.
My fondest memory of winter in Stockholm should be the day I walked on water. Just by Kungsholmen, where my home was. I was pretty sure I could walk to the other side to Langsholmen or Sodermalm.
It is fantastic how the brain can suppress memories until it will suddenly pop them back. And how much a person can live and see.
Would be nice now.. To sit in a cafe in Gamla Stan. Having a latte. Looking at all the good-looking people and tourists.

small things

I do not want to write to you. I am afraid you will get tired of hearing it. But I miss you miss you miss you.

I try. I try to ignore it. I try not to act immature and do something silly. But we are all human. And there are 24 hours in a day and then there are weekends. There is an empty bed I go to every night. There are walks to work, consumed by physical pain that you are missing. You are missing both inside me and outside me. And everything is purposeless, and I am getting empty. Day by day I get more lost.

The world has been on my firgertips. I found the love of my life. The single person that I love to pieces who also accepts me with my untidiness, my postponing tasks, my softness. Yes I have it all. And yet it just feels empty. I try to keep a face. People will see me smile, make promises, set long hours to work, be friendly. Try I do. But that does not change the fact. The fact sits inside me. And eats me up.

I am almost 32. I still do not know what to do. How to feel. On one side there is a clear message: here is the agenda. work, career, money. On the other side there is the youthful message. Be what you are, do what you want while you can.

In the end, I take a look at my ring and I take a look at the mirror. And I try to hold on. But for what?

to myself

and if I could love you more, I would love you more
but if I could change you, I would definitely change you
to love yourself more.

Ezginin Gunlugu

Ayrılık Şarkısı

Bu gün küskün bir gün var masamda
Bütün ayrılıklardan arda kalmış
Ayrılık usulca büyür içimde
Sonra usulca uzaklaşır
Aramızda ne yer var ne de zaman
Ne başka bir yüz ne başka insan

Ayrılık saksıdaki çiçeklerimiz gibi büyür
Sessiz ve nedensizce durmadan

Her zaman oldugu gibi

Ilk yurtdisi vizem 12 yasinda babamin adima Ingiltereden aldigidir. Sonrasinda 22 yasima kadar bekleyecek ve de kendimi Yunanistan buyukelciliginin kapisina atacaktim. Vize gorusmesindeki bir teyzeydi. Interrail biletlerimiz 300dolara alinmis, kalbimiz gup gup bekliyorduk. Bir para sorunu ciktiydi, ve ya onun gibi bir sey. Kosturduydum Cankaya'da. Sonra vermislerdi vizeyi. Biletlerin tarihlerinden belki 1-2 gun fazla zamanimiz vardi Avrupa'da.

Sonrasinda kac kere vize almaya gittim bilmiyorum. Isvec'te bir kac kez Ingiltere buyukelciliginde cabalarim oldu, sonrasinda da Abu Dhabi'de. 3-4 kez almisimdir o vizeyi. Tabi her sene yeniletilen bir Isvec vizesi durumu var. Sonuncusunda ogrenci olarak uzatmak mantikli olmamisti da, Karl sayesinde yillik alabilmistim. Her sene immigrationsverket'in Solna ofisini bir tavaf eder, etrafimdakilerin yuzde kacinin turk oldugunu tahmine calisirdim.

Isvec vizesi sayesinde Schengen'e sayisiz basvuru yapmadan epey bir dolastim. Gozunu seveyim o vizenin. Ama o zamanlar daha Baltiklar Schengen'e girmediklerinden, gidip Estonya'dan vize almistim. 2 hafta da surduydu hani. Masallah.

Katar ve Dubai vizelerim faksla geldi.

Sansli oldugum da oldu. Uganda, Misir, Urdun, Japonya, Singapur, ve de Kambocya beni kapida kabul ettiler.

Son cabalarim da Amerika ve Kanada oldu.

Ama her seferinde ayni anlari yasamaktan yoruldum biraz. Kostur kostur evrak hazirla. Bir suru para ver. Parmak izlerini her bir yerde birak. Iceri girerken aran. Bos gozlerle sira bekle. Ucaga yetisemeyecegim diye icin icini yesin. Islerden izin almaya calis.

Amacimiz da ne? Gidip memleketlerinde para harcamak. Ne olacak onlar icin bizim memlekete gelip icip sicmak sorgusuz sualsiz aksine "buyrunuz buyrunuz bizi olabildigince somurunuz"lu. Getiriyoruz, gezdiriyoruz, yatiriyoruz, yediriyoruz. Anlatamiyoruz ki biz de insaniz. Cogu zaman onlardan daha yardimsever, daha insan insaniz.

Peki bunlarin hepsi neden? Bizden once gelen esekler yuzunden elbet bir kismi. O manyak papayi vurmasaydi... Ama kendini kandirmak imkanli degil sebep bir tek bu olamaz. Hos olmayan sozcukler kullanmaya baslamadan yatmali. Tum bunlara sebep olan da VPN'le tam baglanamamam.

midnight in paris

after a long time, I find a new movie that I feel like writing about.

Midnight in Paris was not a brilliant movie, but it was a magical movie. Half of it perhaps was paris. A lot of cities in the world have parks, cafes, museums and a river but none of them are Paris. The movie was beautiful with all those great sights. But then the rest of the charm came from "wanting to be at another time, a time long past, a past that was not ours, but that we only heard about and therefore all the more great as it was built by the songs, books, movies and eventually, our imagination".

It touched something deep inside me, and did remind me that I am still a bit my own self. That was the arty part. I wanted to run home and watch Bunuel and Godard. I wanted to be in a museum, see a real painting again. I wanted to immediately surround myself with beautiful things.

But also of course there is no denying. It was the movie for nostalgics like me. To travel to a different time and hang out with people you admire? To hear the real sounds, to smell the real smells, to live the real life. In an older time, when life was much more real.

On a totally irrelevant story, I heard the word "fete", whatever it means in french, and remembered a band that I thought was fantastic. So international and fun and great great music.
There they are.. Brazilian Girls:

Sire Nes De La Fete

Hayal bu ya

Isikli, bol isikli bir gun. Yuruyoruz bir sehrin caddelerinde. Paris, Italya'da bir yer, Istanbul, hepsi olur. Biraz tarihi bir mekan ama. Hafifce omzuna yaslanmisim. Ciceklere, havuzlara, insanlara bakiyoruz. Gorerek, tazeligini koklayarak havanin. Her sey canli, ilk kez gormusum gibi yepyeni. Cunku sen yanimdasin. Saat oyle 12:50 am degil. Karanlik hayal bile edilemiyecek bir olgu. Yanyanayiz.