oh lord won't you buy me

she is not a legend. apparently, a miss mercedes benz used to work where I now work back in the day.

a black and white rainbow

a young black girl, (from peckham?), entrusts herself to me on a bus. no we shouldn't get off before her--I suggest she sit near the driver--but she has a problem, she cannot distinguish colours. neither can she tell numbers. I take her to an up-on-a-hill dusty-road tea-garden with a beautiful view of the sea to kiss my mother's hand.

asla düzelmez, asla düzelmez

the last temptation of virgin mary

bir güfte idi...

under the boardwalk

there is a hotel made of glass and I walk around trying to find my room, and only now do I remember the strange source of the image: this weird cartoon that I watched (when where why?) where these under-sea beings animals things were hanging out visiting each other in glass houses and they had to take care of some one's flowers when they went away and made a mess and they wore oxygen globes--quite a childish thing actually. this must have been a phd summer supposedly writing moment. late night television, that is.

yes, the remembering continues, with the aid of google. spongebob squarepants. horrible cartoon, really. and uncannily relevant to my unconscious apparently...

but then again something must have happened then and there. gotta go back to the fanus hotel. (oooh even more associations.)

by the way I am also having issues with the word assessment. (what is the physical action to assess? somebody tell me please. where does it start in the body?)

i love peckham

tattoos of fears

kolay mı sandın aklınca?

bilmem

olur mu?

bilemedim, yani

üzmek istemem

yok yok ben...

olabilir

peki öyle diyorsan

dur bir daha bir

ben bir

ay bilmiyorum

belki

sonra

olabilir

sözüm bir tek sana, selam gönder bana

şimdi bir otobüsteyim iniyorum birileri biniyor inatla hatırlıyorum ki şemsiyemi unutmuşum acilen bulunmalı yerden siyah ıslak bir şemsiye buluyorlar alıyorum ama bir yandan da aklımda benimki bordo ve çiçekliydi diye neyse muvaffakiyet hissiyle bilmediğim bir yere yol sormak amacıyla ilerlerken çantamda hem bordo şemsiyemi buluyorum (hay allah boşuna insanları rahatsız ettim) hem de annemin yeni lacivert şemsiyesinin kılıfını neyse diyorum yol sorduğum adam bence aslında türk neyse anlatıyor gece de oluvermiş ama ben bulacağım orayı kararlıyım buluyorum da galiba bir tür fuaye çok aydınlık işte orada karşılaşıyoruz...

şemsiye çok bariz, freud utansın. da bu devamlı yoklayan otobüs teması nedir?

"strange fits of passion have i known"

bye bye blackbird
four strong winds
if it be your will

çok pis şarkılardan başkasının şiirini yazarımmış ben de...

antonioni

i make it into footnotes. for recognising a clown. this is the good thing about it--it is like a secret but not-so-secret society--you only need a glimpse and you know each other.

excuse me, would you like some eternal bliss? here, please have some.

(kick on the ass?)

she drops and rises, darkens and lights up in split seconds. and then there is stillness and transparency but then again movement and shadows. hmm. am i deep or what?

(another kick? double the force.)

now i need to come to terms with the female. can i remain the clown to which i am reduced (or augmented which is a sad possibility) and be the woman that i guess i am?