27 Haziran 2018, Salı
saat: 02:03
"And when he realized that not only his thoughts were not him, but they were mere words, he fell into an instant calm. It was his temples, unaccustomed to silence, that started burning first. With a light that took hold of him gradually, accompanied by a crescendo of drums. Where his mind was scraped of the filth of the words, there he started to be filled with music. Bright bends of strings were attacking the air, cresting right over his head. He was reaching, grabbing and repeatedly missing them. Getting hold of old words instead and swinging them over his head one by one to oblivion: rejoicing, euphoric, frolicking... Thus, he destroyed himself to sleep that night."
Anna Karenina'da nasil herkes ayni insan! Bu kadar bir kemiklesmis kultur gormedim ben. Bir el hareketinden, bir gerdan kirilmasindan, bir dudak bukulmesinden ve dahi bir kirpik dusmesinden herkes birbirinin en ayrintili dusuncelerini anliyor. Kadinin yuzune bakiyor ve "Ah canim... Evlilik teklifi bekliyordu ama alamamis. Zulufunun telinden belli" diyor. Bizim dunya ne kadar degisik. Ben benimle ayni birayi icen birini bulunca seviniyorum.
Au fait "One needs no recommendations in order to die. Unless it's to the Turks..."
