perspire
terlemeye gidiyorum.
all bad poetry is sincere
But why -but- why did she suddenly feel, for no reason that she could discover, desperately unhappy? As a person who has dropped some grain of pearl or diamond into the grass and parts the tall blades, very carefully here and there vainly. -Mrs Dalloway
Kumar: Man, I blew it. I blew it, man.
Anthony: Kumar, what were you doing in the freezer?
Kumar: I don't know, man, I lose my touch, man.
Dignan: Did you ever have a touch to lose, man?
eskiden kaçıracak olmaktan
artık kaçıracak bir şey olmamasından
müzdaribim.
her işim yumurta kapıda, son dakika,
kaygı, endişe, heyecan, damarlarımda akan kan.
sanki önümde giden bir ben var, yavaş yavaş yürüyen, ve öteki ben durmadan ona yetişmeye çalışan.
her şeyin olacağına varacağına inanmak inanmak inanmak istiyorum. karma, kısmet.
sonra bu kadar korkunun arasında durup bi bardak su içiyor, arkama yaslanıyor, bir sivrisineğin beni ısırmasına izin veriyorum.
sevgili william wordsworth, wise passiveness mi demiştiniz? buyrun burdan yakın.
everything disappears. love, trees, rocks, steel, plastic, human beings. none of us get out alive. and you can cuddle in a group, and face one day at a time. or you can be grateful that when your body rubs against somebody elses, it explodes with enough pleasure, to make you forget even for a minute, that you're only walking pile of the ashes. now that, is the truth. if you're strong it will make you free, if you're weak it will make you, you.