- I laugh at your misfortune, stupid steriotypical female character, comfortably self indulging in the clear cut black & white dilemas your stupid Hollywood film is capable of throwing at you: HA HA HAAA!

**Hmmm, now where did we put that mug of green tea? Oh bother, it's in the kitchen.
You know, I got so desperate for feline affection this morning, i nicked our neighbours cat :) ...This is post-my encounter with Molier/Moliaaaa however u spell it. (sigh) it matters not, because for me, he will always be snuggly-tubby-puff-cake, memories of whom are making the pain in my back more easy to bear. Ouch. Yo guys aching too? I got home at exactly 1:19 last night, and everyone was 'manufacturing zzzzzzs' in the ever memorable words of Sasha the Shapka. -"Do not dub me that!"

That was so fun though, let's do it all again sometime soon. The heavy boxes too.
Meanwhile I gotta go and wash the dishes. Ouch...Woe to me, the world is so insensitive. Hence, I will put it off for as long as I can, just to spite it. The world I mean. The world which doesn't really give a shiKt about my dishes or domestic chores. That world.
But I pretend it does, coz when you make out like you're some '(you are) THE ONE (Neo)' super-heroin, whose great powers (which are destined to benefit mankind) still lie dormant and waiting to be awoken at the appointed time -and once enough kitchen utensils have been cleaned-...then life becomes more interresting, ne?

But has anyone ever asked me about my feelings on the matter? Oh No, fate's just dumped this thing on my lap, like an unwated puppy, without caring weather or not I'm ready for it. Perhaps I want to lead an ordinary life like everyone else. Perhaps I just want to wash my dishes...how do you think I feel about benefiting mankind. Does anyone give a crap? WELL?! (sigh) -thus is the fate of the super heroine :( at least I have my trusty snuggly-tubby-puff-cake by my side. He will roll on your face and suffocate you!

"Hey lady, don't die! Uh oh, her life's passing before her eyes, this is no good is it."- Ehem, sorry, the crazy is trying to come out again. Wait let's back track and try one more time.

**Hmmm (again), now let's see who's online: My bro, Jarrad and...Mooshoo? -oh, it's Misaki's Pat. Ok, I'm off. OFFFF I SAAY! and also, as of now, I have decided to spell my 'ouch'es with 'W's: OWCH!
...man this film Saimecan's watching, Hollywood as it is, has started to sound interresting, maybe i should join her.

Owch.

This whole emotional armour thing has really gotten out of hand i think, because last night i accidentialy dealt a worm in my balcony a fatal step-on and didn't even wince when i realised it. Bare foot. Kill Bill style, you know with the eye thing...OUT VILE JELLY! -no, that's King Lear. Oh God, I think I've really lost my mind :)

CURSE YOU MR. DARCY! ...It's pot lid and bunocuilars, what you want? -These are not withdrawl symptoms, and I swear on the HIGH I hate least I am not Uncle. wooo hooo, this is fuuuuun!
'Go and catch a falling star'...Here's to the annoying butterfly in The Last Unicorn:

Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, ..........Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark ............That looks on tempests and is never shaken.
-When you've gone and said/done something completely idiotic, you can always suddenly quote Shakespeare and people will think you're some tortured, maddened genius with a great deal of depth beneath that shattered surface of what is your public facade!
WOOHOO, I SPEALT THAT SOOOO WRONG!

I used to have some depth to me, I swear...it just seems to have gone. Traceless like. And I have this sneaking suspicion that it may have something to do with the emotional armour I've been clad in for so long. Which is useful for when you don't want to let things get to you, but then, while it's keeping out the crap, non of the stuff which actually does matter can penetrate either...and it leaves you out of synch from that more subtle rythem of life, that plays itsself on a level apart from the obvious.
And you can't face a night sky or the sound of rain any more. You feel guilty. Like you owe them something, and you've put off paying up, for so long.

What I'm trying to say is: I can't break down yet.
But DAMNIT, it's killing me.

Great, and it's 2:00 in the morning now.

...It's the rain that I hear coming. Not a stranger or a ghost. It's the quiet of a storm approaching. That I fear the most...Darling, when. When did you fall? when was it over? ... I suppose it is the price of falling in love.

-Delerium, Innocente-

boredom is fundamental non-awareness.

-Robert Wilbur-
(quote of the day courtesy of Bro)

Pre-Millennium Tension

-Tricky-
(inspiration courtesy of Ryo)

Vague feeling of annoyance followed by shoulder-shrug-indefferance.

-The awkwardness of answerring the door without a headscarf-
(courtesy of the Electricity Metre Guy)

Irritation

-Bladder is full and I can't be faffed to go bathroom-
(courtesy of Green Tea)

Insecurity

-People keep telling me I look like a cute guy in my Free Palestine T-shirt :( -
(courtesy of Tas and now Misba)

Revelation

-I need a job, quick-
(courtesy of regularly updated Blog)

Wow, the sky is so blue today I wouldn't mind if it fell on my head :)

Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity.

- Paulo Cohelo, The Alchemist-

(thanx Tas)

The fate lying in store for you is just too cruel...But there must be some meaning to it all. There must be some meaning.

-Casshern-
(An overblown video clip clinging to the excuse of a 3 hour movie, which by all accounts aught to suck, but is strangely moving at times...and beautiful.)

-I had cereal clusters and rubarb yogurt for breakfast. Apparently we're not feeling Barbarian today...although Yogurt is a Turkish invention (and a most ingenious one at that) but that's a different story ne?
-Augh! Which reminds me; a most rivvetting discovery about Elest, courtesy of my Bro Daoud: apparently I speak Turkish with Japanese intonations. How scary is that?
-Meanwhile I am still feeling very dejected over the prospect of having blown my chance to see 'Howl's Moving Castle' yesterday. Cursed be the dozey cow who informed me that the tickets had sold out, and without so much as a note of sympathy in her voice! (sniffle)
-Any way, it's being released officially on the 23rd. Plan is to take little Saimecanii with me, but anyone else who is up for it, pray do let me know (by the way, if you don't already know, Saimecan's a lunatic (she takes after me) so it'll be fun!)
-The qourn sausages I just had don't seem to have agreed with my anatomy, I'm feeling kinda...well how to put this...I think I'm gonna be sick.
-And speaking of being sick, went for a blood test yesterday and they sucked me dry of 5 bottles worth of the stuff.

Dude: Ok, last one...
Elest: (with the needle still in her arm) 5 Bottles!? If I'm aneamic I'm just gonna get worse!
Dude: Ha ha! Yeah that's what I was thinking! (takes needle out) Ha ha...right, could you put your finger on that please, just hold it in place- (sees the claw ring) BLIMEY! THAT'S GRUESOME, AND YOU WERE AFRAID OF THE NEEDLE!
Elest: Uh, yeah. Heh heh. (thinks: Oi I was SO NOT afraid of the needle!)
Dude: I'll just pop that on there, and thats all... Are you ok?
Elest: Yeah.
Dude: You sure?
Elset: Yep, sure. (thinks: Yes mate, I always look like I'm gonna pass out. it's perfectly normal.)

-And I been thinking about Shakila's question since last night (couldn't sleep again (wasn't alone it seems.).) why is it that we never like the guys who are nice to us, and instead we indure all this heart ache from the evil bastards in our lives?
Here's a hypothesis: maybe we deserve it? -Aaah, SHI(k)T! Mom just sprayed me with the spray gun she was watering the plants with! What the hell was that for?!

Time: 12:12
Day: Wednesday 7th
Location: Uncle's Biiiiiiiiiiig snooty house.
Sounds: Listenning to my cousins iPod- and she's only got Britney Spears on it, so I suppose I can be forgiven this time arround for jamming to 'Hit me Baby One More Time'. Maaan, this brings back memories of watching the video clip with Tas and wonderring how her stomach could be so flat. Now Britney's being air brushed on her album covers and WE'RE THE ONES WITH FLAT STOMACHS AND TWO PACKS! Sometimes the world is just :) Speaking of which, either my uncles mirrors are increadibly flattering, or I've lost even more weight (al). According to my mom, grandmother and (not so curiously) my grandfather though, this is nothing to be happy about.

Mom: Elest that skirt's too big for you and you're not pretty any more.
Elest: Hmmm (-and she's thinking: I'M UGLY! I HAVE NO JOB, NO MAN IN MY LIFE AND NOW I'M UGLY!)

Paternal Grandma: Oi where the hell's your butt gone? What did you do to it? I don't like this at all, men want something to grab. What's your man gonna do?
Elest: Errrr. (-and she's thinking: Huh, like I want someone grabbing my butt...bloody sexist cypriot ideaologies.)

Granpa: (addressing grandma) She's not gonna get a man! Sorry.
Elest: ... (-and she's thinking: crap, what's he doing here? More sexist cypriot ideologies!)
Grandpa: There are two things in life a woman should not be without; a good butt and a perfect belly button...
Elest: ... (-and she's thinking: Not the drinking out of a womans belly button story again, man this stufff is x-rated and I was subjected to it since I was 10, I can't take any more of it!)
Grandpa: ...and then it's the legs and so on and so forth. BUT THOSE (finger waving) ARE PRIORITY! Now I am proud of your belly button- and you have me to thank for that by the way, because I bullied the doctors into surgically fixing it for you when you were a baby- but as for your backside, you're useless. Sorry.

-and as if that wasn't enough, I had a 'life' talk with my uncle. Which included the inevitable, unavoidable reality of being stuck in the rat race till you die, once you have kids and get a morgage. To which the only alternative is being a bumm who no one will employ if you're idle for over a year 'so get your act together now!'
Elest: ... (and she's thinking: Thanx for doing the father talk with me, I really appreciate it, however it would be nice if you could be more encouraging and less threatening because the father-shaped-space-of-an-individual called DAD already gave me the "you're useless, and you're living in a dream world, you'll never amount to anything" treatment when he was here last month.)
And then he tells me his friends daughter (my age) is dating 'a muslim bloke, and religion doesn't seem to be a problem', followed by a questioning stare.
Elest: ... has the comfortable look of someone who is with a guy, but who doesn't feel the need to tell relatives about it yet. (and she's thinking: What a load of bollocks, I'm just very good at looking cool.)

Basically I've been torn to shreads :)
The only way to not care is to pretend you're made of stone and try to stop other people being hurt the way you're hurting, if only you'd stop ignorring it.
But it builds up right?
So here's my plan: In 2046 there is this ongoing theme about how in the olden days, when people had a secret to tell they'd climb a mountain, find a hollow tree and whisper the secret inside, then they'd seal it up with mud, so it was just a little easier to bare and no one would ever no about it. Now, post not-telling-your-problems-to-other-people talk with Ryo...which made me sad (and especially coz I don't like talking about myself either, but I don't want anyone else feeling like me)...I've decided that (drum roll) we each gotta find ourselves a tree. :)

It is my melodramatic ovary's turn to ovulate and so the blasted thing has had me twisting in pain all night, and now still all morning. Ouch.
Point: From now on I shall take after my friend Olga, and exercise my rights to claim moodiness when ever it suits me, based on the instability of my merciless female hormones.
I also exercise said rights to have a chocolate binge when I like. I woul'd like one now.
...
Cursed be the one that devoured the last of the toblerone!

Uh oh, what's that smell? ...have I mentioned before that barbarian Turks have fried liver for breakefast? If it so happens to be a special occaision breakfast, they will redily partake in some fried heart and lung aswell...and while preparing a salad they have a tendancy to sticking the ends of cucumbers to their foreheads, and the foreheads of anyone within close proximity of them. Yet there must be some meaning to all of this madness coz they did rule half the world once upon a time. In fact, the only reason why Turkey's going to the dogs today is coz of this national desire to conform to secular, european and capitalist imperialist ideals in the name of modernism and freedom.
Now where the hell is the freedom in suppressing culture and history and beliefe, and human rights along with it?

I say up with fried liver in the morning, cucumbers all arround!

Augh shiKt! The post I just wrote dissapeared on me! Sodd it, can't be faffed to write it again, so instead, here:

It's a beautiful dayyy

Right, now that I've stated the obvious and gotten that out the way, lets move on. But before we go any further, to clear this matter of, you know, all the pictures on this page...firstly, the fact that they're all Japanese is quite simply an absurd coincidence, and means nothing at all. The real androgynous one below with the maniac smile, is merely there to model my future lip piercing. And Kimura Takuya on the side is merely there for comic purposes (...yes, it was actually funny to start with, but now its essence still lingers coz I can't be bothered to take it off or put something in its place). Basically, and for the last time, I do not like them.
So that just leaves Hyde (who I do like), and frankly I don't care if no one else finds him attractive, Piss off man!

Jeez, what a crap way to start the blog which marks this glorious occaision of my connection to the net eh?

And here's an even crapper way to end it: Fin.

-HAA HAA HAA, How You Like That?! :p


...Nah, ok, I'll be back when I got somthing worth writing to write.

(sigh) the suspense of expecting your net connection to cut off any minute when your time runs out at the Net Caffe... :) Hello. Limbo has started to feel like home now, but by no means do I intend to settle in, coz it's makeing me a very iratable person, and apparently, 'resigned to my cynicism'...which means I'm just loving my misery. But it will not be so. Oh no. and now I must TALLY-HOOO-OFF! coz i got 2 minutes in which to post this.
He he, adrenallin rush, lets see if i can beat the clock :)

Now:
I am a graduate.
I am a graduate with nothing to do.
I am confused.
I am a would-be writer with writers block.
I am taking my angst out on junk food.
I am a sister in law.
I am not an aunty-(that rocks)-to-be...yet ;)
I am craving sushi.
I am skint and in debt.
I am listening to Accoustic Alchemy in my mind.
I am regretful whenever those black wings cast their fragile shadows on my mind.
I am haunted by existentialism.
I am a full time cynic and a sceptic who is trying to believe the glass is half full.
I am still trying to win my mother over by applying to her aesthetic taste.
...so she'll let me get my lip pierced.
I am a 22 year old child, and more immature than my little sister.
I am pissed off at my father. Truely and forever.
I am having very strange dreams.
I am a brunette...once again.
I am smiling :)

...In retrospect, a new spin on Eelst's aspirations:


A lip piercing...


...along with the maniac smile.

How do you react in the face of utter not-knowing?
See what I mean.

ps. It's a guy.

No brakes.

Looking at it now, there is this sick sense of selfishness about the blog of late Wendsday night and early Tursday morning of the London terrorist attacks.
There is a sick sense of selfishness about how oblivious and superficial this piece of self-preoccupation is.
When you stand back and look at it all now, as a larger picture of past and present, there is something so small and self-absorbed and so increadibly stupid about it and about us and how we are and what we do
...and you think, God, knowing and watching in an existence outside our reality and perception limmited by the states of past, present and a future we will never know, even mili-seconds before it becomes now, must see us for how futile and ridiculous we are.
There is a sick sense of selfishness in feeling relieved over the fact that no one I know got hurt or dead.
There is an even sicker sense of selfishness about being able to move on.
We are selfish by nature. And I think it is because we're all so increadibly alone even in the misery we share.

...And finally there is something selfish about words, and about trying to explain or write or speak of other people's sufferring, in a selfish plight to show sympathy.
And though no one I know was hurt or lost, this has effected all of us more than we think...and not only because with every such act of selfishness we commit, we lose just that much more of our humanity.
Fasten your seat belts, from here on, either it ends or it's a chaotic plummet down.

I got a 2:1! Woooohooooo!..err, I mean, Alhamdullah! and what's more, Subhanallah!

Now getting back to..Ehem, there...getting back to ordinary life: The Da Vinci code rocks. it rocks so hard, it is a most ingenious and convincing book which has convinced me that my own gal-bladder is a free mason.
Suspect everyone.
Oh my God, as I write this (it happens to be 2:06 in the morning by the way) Saimecan is talking in her sleep! lol, she said somethig about openning something or other...and I probed her further, but everything else was unintelligeble, and now she's quiet again.

By the way;
Peas porridge hot. Peas porridge cold. Peas porridge in a pot, nine days old.
I bring this up because I noticed during dinner today that my grandma's Tarhana soup had little bits of potato and green pepper floating arround in it, although Tarhana soup isn't supposed to have any such thing (and if you don't know that, it means u aint a Turk, and it means tough!). Curiously enough we had had potato and green pepper stew the night before, which reminded me that in the Youghurt soup the night before that, there were bits of beans floating about, which also did not belong, and this drove me to conclude that my Grandma has been recycling left-overs. and for the remainder of my meal, I found myself mulling over the following hypothesy: If my grandma, hypothetucally speaking, used left-over bean meal in the yoghurt soup, and then left-over youghurt soup in tomato rice the following day, and then left-over tomato rice in meat and potato stew the day after, and left-over stew in Tarhana soup, until technically I can be having traces of the five day old bean meal, or something even older and more gone off, in my soup today. Apetizzing right :)

Also;
Much earlier in the morning today, Saimecan and I sat with the newspaper, looking through the TV times when my grandfather (who is hard of hearing (which is irrelevant here, but just so you know)) walked in, stood over us and asked if 'that' was today's paper. We told him yes, at which point he promptly, but not impolitely, took it from us, gave us the childrens colouring pages (apparently overlooking the fact that Saimecan is 17 and I'm 22) and then went off to spend the rest of his day in his chair and behind the Turkish daily news.
What did Saimecan and Elest do? They started colouring of course. But that is besides the point, because now I come to the most vital part of my narrative, which is when Saimecan had to go and colour in a green ground and blue sky behind the two little children they'd coloured into mice, and this is what followed:

Elest: Why did you do that for, It looks awful!
Saimecan: You wanted to leave it blank?
Elest: YES!
Saimecan: Wha- WHY?! ...Isn't this better?
Elest: It's depressing!
Saimecan: (bemused) Ha?
Elest: It places the mice against a flat, banal background, and frames them in an empty, meaningless, 2-dimensional world...like they're trapped in an immovable, unchangeable reality...a grim eternity of running across flat green fields and under an ugly blue sky...like beyode the pages waits an infinity of more of this...like there is no way out!
Saimecan: ...
Elest: Can't you see it? It's yelling: this is all there is to LIFE, you insignificant little non-entities!
Saimecan: (taking the pcture from Elest) Someone should analise you.
Elest: Yes, thats why I was seeing a shrink.

Hello. Been away from home for the past few days and hence no net. The latest news from this part of the middle east (CNN tells me Turkey is located in the Middle East apparently, inspite of the fact that Turks will swear on their old mother's lives we are European, and Asians will say we are in Asia coz someone loves us thank God...but then the Yanks think the entire world is divided into the U.S and the Middle East, right? so sod them.) where was I? woe to me, such is the curse of the Literature student (and I still havent gotten my results yet)- ah yes, latest news from this side of the Middle East is that Huden (with lovely tan and red Samsonite suitcase (damn, I have to get me a suitcase still (damn, I also have to get Ryo his Darbuka still)) has gone off to visit beloved Hubby Daoud in Yank Land. havent heard from her yet, so dont know if she got there safely. (Hint, hint, if you are reading this call, onegaishimasu!)

And also, I seem to be rather ill apparently. Now usually I just ignore my illnesses until they feel neglected and get bored and go away, but this time my mom's convinced I need to see a doctor coz who would be coughing and feeling feeverish and tired and head-ache-ified and yellow in the face in the middle of summer? (oops, sorry I'm always yellow innit? make that green then) any way, I'm determined to spend tonight making my mystery illness feel so unwanted, it pisses off before tomorrow morning, coz honestly, I don't feel like going to a doctor.

Speaking of illnesses though, here's an observation I made recently:
The greatest fear of the Barbarian Turk, is a draft. they would rather suffocate to death in the swealterring heat of a stuffy bus, than open the windows and get a draft. why? -'oh coz we'll catch a cold!' ....IN THIS DAMN WEATHER, BLOODY PANSYS!?

...ponderring over this, I also realised Cyrpriots, who like walking around naked in their houses, and going to bed in the nude, are the complete oposites of Turks who are so terrified of colds, they stuff towels down the backs of their kids/ husbands shirts. why? -'oh coz he's sweated so much, he's all soaked, he'll catch pnemonia and drop dead this instant!'

so what has being a mix of nude-walking Cypriot and overdressing-Turk made us? I like walking arround in my underwear when no ones at home, Saimecan wears trousers under her skirts even when it's not cold, and Huden is the normallest out of the 3 of us I think.

Thank you.

Day: 26 June 2005- Sunday(It's been a month since I turned 22. Still no significant occurance in my life, unless it somehow escaped my attention.)

Time: 15:22

Location: Bedroom.

Sounds: Polonaise...and Saimecan bickerring on about how when we were small and we were playing a game I'd tell her I was bored and leave at the most important part. She can be so begrudging sometimes...MAAAN, AND NOW SHE'S VACCUMING THE ROOM AT ME! She's seriously intent on ruining my music!

Smells: Cooking. It used to be lentills and rice but since my Great aunt and Grandmother came down and found their way into the kitchen, it's become a curious mixture of other things too.

Feelings: Pissed off at the stupid mosqiuto that bit me last night. Yes, still.

Aspirations: To sort out the family photo albums in the attic.

Long term aspirations: To acquire a very maniac smile. :) ...nah that didn't work, I need more practice.

Something meaningful: Apparently you have to starve a chicken for a day before you slaughter it. And apparently very enlightened Buddhist monks used to stop eating when they knew they were going to die. Now the question is; how do we know they weren't just starving themselves to death? ...Is this called scepticism, cynicism(AAH! Mom took the nuttella jar away, Iwas still gonna finger lick that!) or just disilusionment?

oh and also...I'm becoming more like my dad. and I need to go pee now.

meanwhile the strangest thing encounterred me the other day when I least expected it...




...As you will gather this p..ed me off very much, so this is what I did to it.

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/#110830722827025317

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So its not hard to fall when u float like a canon

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage teach me to be shy,
Coz its not hard to fall, and i don't wanna scare her...
its not hard to fall, and i don't wanna lose her...
its not hard to crawl when you know that you just don't know.

-Damien Rice-

Day: A very deceptive Monday.
Time: 05:36 in the morning.
Place: Bedroom, in front of PC.
Sound: This really funky new Turkish band called Manga (yes, like the comic)- they're kinda dark rock and heavy metal mixed, and I've liked all their songs till now coz not a single one has been about that all time terribly rinsed cliche, love...yes, 'tis all very angsty and miserable :)
Occupation: Have non...MAN IT'S DA HOLIDAYs, WHAT U TRYING TO DO, PISS ME OFF?!
Immediate occupation: oh, downloading anime and blogging.
At 5:00 in the morning?: There is actually a very good reason for this, other than the fact that I may well be sad or losing sleep over something. You see after Fajr I had some cat errands to run- namely giving Dibby attention and waiting over him while he eats (he's very depressed you see and he's lost alot of weight...not to mention the Evil Siamese has been bullying him).
Other than that I do actually have a reason to be writing this...yes, for once I has something to say...ehem...drum roll please...Huden and Daoud had their nikah four days ago! Why am I yelling? ...yes I know this is old news for me by now, but it isn't for you! Thats why I'm Yelling! :) So now in the eyes of God my Siss-poo be married. And then there was much rejoicing, bible style. And yes they be very happy. And yes they be terribly in love. And oh shut up you foo'. ...ntch, idiot! Ok, thats it, I'm changing the subject coz this is turning into one of those self indulging- 'dear diary, today Mr. Rochester was ever so wicked to me. I do believe he is quite in love with my Rhododendrons.'
...yawn. maybe I should go back to bed. Yeah thats what I'll do, I'll come back to this later... oh, Sasha just logged in.