(sth i wrote last year )
These lines below, which reminds the “rusted trace of a pin” (this resemblance does not belong to me ) brought me to this confused state of mind …
“…… the way an armchair faces the wall/in a world where revolting is delimited/flows…/like some blood prosecuted…” ( Turgut Uyar)
-you are livid
+ I’m actually bleeding.
– verbal vein bleeding?
+ You are not able to include yourself.
-Pins are being tacked into the places of the recent dead.
+the place of connection…now what is connecting?
-You know what is buried inside of you.
+Do not use the ready-made judgments and conclusions.
-Is there something you want to protect?
+ Pins do not behave differently than their connecting places…
-It’s a many sided word.
+Pins make you bleed when they go deeper.
-and those”connecting” places evolve.
+ without a receiver and without an order.
-why some places are “pinless”,if those gaps are not going to be filled, why do they exist?
+ knowing “WHAT” is the weapon of this?
-Images are changing in my fictions…
+ It doesn’t work as long as there is no patience and serenity.
-Words are erasing themselves.
+which are not in the flashlight…
-and they become corners; the unsaid,unnoticed feelings?
+Name the disease inside of you.
-This “bleeding” is the anniversary of what?
+I am not offering you something.
-I never wanted to get involved,but never managed to run away.
+You could only go as far as those connecting places let you go.
-Was there any corner which hosted the bad coincidences?
+It is not about diagnosing..what was it before…don’t you know?
-Sediments are shadowing.
+The death are on your mind now,others are absent?
-Every part of me is absent.
+That is a sorrow,opposite to the familiar
(to be continued…)