30 Kasım 2011 Çarşamba

Take 2: Mars

- Ready?

- I have OCD, moron. I can never be ready for the unknown. 

- You don't have OCD, you have human software installed. And apparently, it works perfectly fine.

- Skip the nerd NASAer part. Off I go? 

- You'll land at a cafe. Order coffee. Read a comic while you wait. Be cool. 

- OK. Where will I get the comic? 

- There's one in the spaceship. He'll arrive 10 minutes late. Don't stare at the door when he walks in. Behave as if you didn't notice him. 

-  Primary School Dating 101.

- *sigh* Remember everything about books and films?

- Yeah, yeah. Joyce, stream-of-consciousness, ooh, he’s a genius, Bukowski, fucking and loving at the same time. Existentialism. I love long tracking shots and how they blur space and time of a film. One-room movies are my favourite. It feels as if the walls would melt, the characters are so interdependent yet unique like the very room itself. 

- Perfect.

- Are you sure he’s waiting for me? That I am his dream one?

- He’s not waiting for you. He’s waiting for someone like you. 

- Reports state that he is more into calmy-calmy and silent types. I think I happened to be a bit too neurotic for that.

- They love imperfections as well. You’re not a pilot model. There has to be something he would disagree. We would implement little scars but speech disorders fit you better. And you like 80’s music. That’s enough.

- Ew. I hate scars. 

- Remember anything about sex?

- Yeah, in full detail. You made me take 101, 201, 303, 404 and senior classes in a row!

- Good. Don’t get over-ecstatic. Don’t stare at the ants. You’ll get a nostalgic tube. It goes underground. It’s not another planet. Hold your breath. It’s a bit humid. And don’t say ANYTHING about Mars. He would call you an angel in a couple of weeks. DON’T argue.

- Oh, fine. Hope he uses me well.

- Well, we are sending him to the centre of Sun if he doesn’t. He has been begging for it since ages. And he swears while begging. Loud. So, don’t whine.

- We’ll see. 

- Ready?

- As I said, since I have the world’s most horrible mental…

- Oh, please. I’m taking it back. You’d do way better with scars!

- Hello.

- Oh, hi, hello.

- Sorry, I’m a bit late.

- Oh, don’t worry. I’m fine and all cool. Drinking coffee, reading a comic book and thinking about how Joyce created the postmodern meta-text and how it’s interrelated with our so-called modern lives.

- You’re funny.

- Thank you. I love movies. Did you know that? Bergman, Antonioni and others. I could count all of them if you would like to.

- Heh. *whispers* You have such a pretty neck. 

- So, you liked me?

- Very.

- You know what? When they first told me that I was being sent… I mean, I came. I arrived at this café. I wouldn’t. Oh, god, you're beautiful.


10 Kasım 2011 Perşembe

Take 1: Love

- Some people only love the concept of love. Being in love, being loved; that is. It’s a like a fucking primitive hunting game. You fight for appropriate pheromones. You race, win or lose. You get laid or not.

- Admit it, you have issues with me.

- I don’t have issues with you, you have issues with yourself. That’s not my take on you, but how people love each other.

- And how do you love?

- Differently. Different words of affection, a different discourse of love. Me, being with you, is because I want to be with you. You’ve never been my next best thing.

- What’s wrong with falling in love for a couple of times in a lifetime? You fall in love, it happens. When your pheromone turns me on, we fuck. If it’s a good fuck, it’s good for a second time. And if we can chit-chat, well, I call it a relationship.

- See? No special traits granted to your lover. For you, it’s just a matter of coincidental harmony. There are some certain needs to be met. And when those needs are met, wham! You’re in a relationship. What I think is that there must be another reason for love.

- Says the archbishop of Canterbury.

- Well, fuck you. I’m flattered. Thank you. And thank you pheromones. And thank you smart mind for bestowing me this relationship.

- What’s your problem?

- The problem is, I’m fucking scared, I’m terribly frightened. Scared that you’ll find that stupid harmony with somebody else and it can happen! There are millions of people out there. With ‘mmmm, you smell fucking beautiful’ pheromones. With new funny punch-lines. With smart rhetoric skills. Did you know that cats never fuck each other more than twice? It’s because of those pheromones. They get old. You get used to them. No excitement. No pride in conquering what’s already yours. You’re a fucking hunter. And I need a tank of nerve agent antidotes. That’s what I need. But what you need is your western ration to be monogamous.

- No.

- No, what?

- No, your ass. I would never leave it.

- Oh?

- Yup.

- Surey-sure?

- Damn sure. 

- Double damn sure?

- Yep.

- Sorry for being an asshole.

- Forget it.

- You love me?

- Yup.

- Why?

- Because, you smell fucking beautiful, you’re the funniest guy I’ve ever met, I love the way you talk, I love the way you mumble and you fuck good. And you love me like no one has loved me before.

- God, I love you so much. I love you so much.

1 Kasım 2011 Salı


Ben boş zamanlarımda bir sürü şarkı dinlerim. Elleri ve parmakları severim. Yüzlere ayrı bir düşkünlüğüm vardır. Her yüze gönül indirmem çünkü bazı yüzler çok güzeldir. Onlara çok dikkatli bakarım. Oynayan kaşlar, dudaklar özel ilgi alanımdır. Eller bazen burun kaşır. Ben ona da öyle bakarım. Onun şarkısı ayrıdır. Her burnun kaşınması için ayrı şarkı vardır çünkü. Ben öyle ara sıra şikâyet ederim. Ama genelde pıntın pıntınımdır. Bazı şeylere çok kulak kesilirim. Bazı şeyleri çok severim. Ben bazı şeyleri ancak ara sıra beş-on yılda bir falan çok severim. Ben sevdiğim şeylerin dudağının bükülmesini sevmem. Harfleri çok severim. Harflerden en sevdiğim ellerdeki “e” harfidir. Onun yeri ayrıdır. Onun da şarkısı ayrıdır. Ben genelde çok konuşurum. Dikkat kesildiğim güzel yüzlere daha çok konuşurum. Ben konuştukça güzel yüzler daha da güzelleşsin isterim. Ellerimi kıvırcık saçta severim. Ben boş zamanlarımda sadece biri için bir sürü şarkı dinlerim. Şarkıları not ederim. Akşamları iki buz bir rakıyla güzel yüzlere de dinletirim. Dinletiyormuş gibi yapmadan dinletirim. Geçmişi sevmem, bugüne tamah etmem, geleceği pek düşünmem. Ben zamanın en çok onunla geçenini severim. Onun şarkısı yoktur. Ben olsa olsa, tek bir güzel yüz severim. Başka dudak yanımda kıvrılmasın, başka ağız açılmasın isterim. Ben gönlüme hîç o güzel yüzden özge nesne lâyık görmem.