What was most familiar was the disorganization and fragmentation, a big beautiful mess for your own. Home was something that had been chewed up and spat out. The bitter taste always remains in your mouth. It was the place where…devamıWhat was most familiar was the disorganization and fragmentation, a big beautiful mess for your own. Home was something that had been chewed up and spat out. The bitter taste always remains in your mouth. It was the place where shapeless nails were dug into the pale skin, it was the place where the teenager who gave apathetic looks like Kate Moss shoved a toothbrush down her throat. As the song says, it was the place where she wrote 'don't forget your story' on the wall with her own stinky blood, the only ink she had, and came back to remember her identity.
dağınıklığın estetiği üzerine fotoğraflar çekip biriktiriyorum son zamanlarda, kusurlu şeylerin güzelliği üzerine, yaralı- irinli- çürük şeylerin şiirselliği üzerine.
hazır bangır bangır gelen depresif epizod sebebiyle ev’e dönmüşken bu kısa yazıyı karaladım notlarıma.
iz bırakmayı sevdiğim için de burdayım.
