That's my favorite

Charlotte: What color are my eyes?
Kevin: Well, at first glance your eyes are brown. But when the light hits them, they change to amber. And if you look really close around the iris, the color is pure honey. But when you look into the sun, they almost look green. That's my favorite.
(Monster-in-Law)


'Cheesy' falan ama, tüm romantik komedilerde en çok sevdiğim sahne olabilir...
Not: Tam bu sahnede 'aaaaaaa' derken, annem bana dönüp 'böyle şeyler bekleme ama' dedi. Gerçek hayattan nefret ediyorum.

Sahaf Festivali 2011

Buluşmadan önce ne yapacağımıza dair bir fikrimiz olmamasına rağmen, ayaklarımız (ve "e o zaman Taksim'e gidelim" alışkanlığımız) bizi Beyoğlu'na, Sahaf Festivaline götürdü.

Bir sürü fotoğraf kutusu karıştırıp, harika resimler topladık.

Ben hala hoparlörüm olmamasına rağmen kendimi tutamadım ve iki Temptations plağı aldım (Kuşburnu'nun pikabında denedik ve harikalar, neredeyse tamamen cızırtısızlar).

Sıralanmış kitapları, dergileri, eski gazeteleri karıştırdık.

Kapağında Wynton Marsalis'in resmi ve içinde 80'lerdeki Jazz üzerine makaleler olan 1984 basımı bir Dialogue buldum.

Ve sonunda raflara eğilmekten, kutu karıştırmak için çömelmekten belimiz ağrımış olsa da, gerçekten güzel bir gün geçirdik.

Günün sonundaki çin yemeğimizden ve dev dondurmalarımızdan bahsetmiyorum bile.

Festival 18'ine kadar devam ediyor,

Beyoğlu'na gitmek için bahane arayanlara duyurulur.

Pazartesi

Hazır olsamda olmasamda Pazartesi başlıyor okul.
Sizleri bilmiyorum ama, şu tatiller bana asla yetmiyor.

  Mungo Jerry "In The Summertime"

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Birthday of a Supersonic Man

Uyumadan önce, yapmam gereken son bir şey daha var:

İYİ Kİ DOĞDUN FREDDIE.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FREDDIE.

Müziğin başına gelmiş en güzel şeylerden bir tanesi sensin; ve tabii ki biz müzikseverlerin de öyle.

Daima bir mucize, ve bir ilah olarak hatırlanacaksın.

"I don't want to be Spaghetti..."

Gecenin bir yarısı izlenilen, olağandışı filmlerden daha güzel ne var hayatta diye düşünüyorum bazen...

'Tonight, I'll show you how dreams are prepared. People think it's a very simple and easy process but it's a bit more complicated than that. As you can see, a very delicate combination of complex ingredients is the key. First, we put in some random thoughts. And then, we add a little bit of reminiscences of the day... mixed with some memories from the past. That's for two people. Love, friendships, relationships... and all those "ships", together with songs you heard during the day, things you saw, and also, uh... personal... Okay, I think it's done. '
(La Science Des Rêves)


Not: Filmde Charlotte Gainsbourg oynuyor, ve müziklerin bir kısmı da ona ait. İlgilenen var mı bilmiyorum ama ben manasız bir şekilde mutlu oldum.

Adventure (Story #1)

'You sure you're going to be alright?' she asks with her evermore concerned face. No one in the world cares about me more than she does, which is something I highly appreciate but never knew how to express. That's why I hug her for a second time, hoping maybe, this will show how much I love her. I'm not much of a hugger, that, she knows, and she understands my inner meanings, as she always does.
'It's one of those now or never moments,' I say 'though not a right moment for a clishé I suppose.'
'Is there? A right time for a clishé?' she says and smiles, trying as hard as she can to hide her concern.
'I know I'll be okay. I'll send postcards, promise.'
'Can't you just take your phone with you?'
'It's in the trash, and, you know it will ruin the whole idea of adventure.'
'Since when has this became an adventure?'
'When has ever life stopped being an adventure? You're in one, with your beer-bellied lovely man and those two teethless monsters of yours.' I know this last remark will certainly get a laughter off her, and it does, and she beams at the word of her lovely, lovely kids. 'And this is mine.'
'I know,' she says, and gives out a sigh, 'just take care, will you?'
'Okay, "mom"' I say, which makes her snort and hit me on the arm.
Then comes my train, and I get in, find my seat next to the window seeing the station, and I wave good-bye to my best friend. I breathe upon the window and draw a heart onto the steam I made, which makes her burst into laugh so cheerfully, I can hear it inside the train.
Then the train starts to move.
I look at her until we leave the station, and start making our way through the empty fields of where I had spent my whole life, my home.
"Goodbye, home" I say out loud, but in a voice only I can hear, not that anybody is listening, not that there's anybody else in the compartment where I am. Because nobody is, and I'm all alone.

Prologue (Story #1)

A story starts, as no one can even see it starting. Because, as any other story, this story starts on what you call a normal day. Because, as any other story, its prologue is something so simple, so 'normal', so unknown to those around.
A story starts, as any other story, with a word.
"Goodbye"