Paradise

"Come on, stop shuffling, I always do it for you, do I ever complain?" said the middle aged averagely beautiful woman. She was trying different ways to stand, smile, look and not to look at the camera. The girl who was holding the cellphone was bored, upset and disturbed even by the topic itself. Mother insisted, "I'm waiting here Bethy. Stop whining and take my picture, I found a new background, it'll be lovely!" The woman made her best fake smile, for that second, even Lisbeth could have believed her. However it did not last long. Right after the girl pressed the button of the cellphone, the mother's smile faded. Her ordinary lifeless look covered all her face again and she hurried to grab the phone from her daughter's hands.

"Goddamn it! How many times have I told you to fit me in the frame Lisbeth?"
"Thought you would like to fit the landscape in as well, isn't it why we came here anyway?"
"Of course baby, but you got to remember that we are not focused on the landscape. It's just an object of the real subject. Do I need to remind you who is the subject too?" said the woman with an unnecessary tease.
The girl was pissed, "You told me that you want to spend time with me to talk and show me the things you like but we have been taking your photos instead. Why did we come here again mom? Am I the one you need or just the tool to use?" said Lisbeth jadedly.
Mother fixed her mess quickly and squeezed her arms "Lisbeth, why are you doing this darling? Since when you are so touchy? You know that I have a profile to resume upon the sight of my fans. I am not an ordinary person, you know that. You have a special mother which makes you a special daughter as well. Every rose has thorns, stop complaining and focus on the smell baby. Besides, that credit card did not fall from the sky anyway..."

Mother grinned priggishly, Lisbeth felt dizzy. Grabbed her purse from her bag and slided her credit card quickly. "Then take this back mom, so you can pay the photographer. If you pay enough, he may even chat with you when you're bored and I bet he will not even complain about the process of your profile picture discussion. Have fun with that, you don't need me anyway.."

The girl did not wait for the response and quickly ran away. She heard her mother's snappy yelling that followed her, "Wanna be a rebel? Be then. Like father like daughter. Get out of my sight!"

The girl turned the first taxi to get away and was ready to give the most of her remained money to the driver. "Drive away" said the girl, "drive to the coast."

When she got off the car, she found a cigarette from her bag and lit it with her shaking hands. Looked at the skyline and watched the waves for a while. "How miserably fucked up we all are" she said to herself when she released the smoke between her dry lips.

Her mother was an old actress who is forgotten years ago but she never accepted the fact that she is neither famous nor beautiful anymore. The fans that she loves to mention all the time were only the perverts who only dream of banging her. Even the thought of them while touching her mother was disguisting Lisbeth. She wanted to protect her mother from harm but the more she tried, the more she found herself as drowning into the mud.

It could have been better if her father did not  have taken the golden shot while he was drunk as always. She read the event on the newspapers. "EX-FAME DRUG ADDICT HAS FOUND DEAD AT A CHEAP HOTEL ROOM, ALONE AND NAKED." It was not the best title for an interview or something, yet this was the first time for a really long while that the papers gave him the front page. He must have been happy when he saw the page from the upstairs. Good or bad would not matter, an advert was an advert and years after his faded fame, he was the cover guy again...

Lisbeth barely remembered her father because he was always somewhere else. He was the least caring husband and father of all times but still the mother was better while he was somewhere alive out there. She was in love with him with her all cells and it would not matter if he loves him back or not since she had the legal ownership of him. She captured him at his most famous days with her growing filled belly, Lisbeth, and married him with the threat of ruining his acting career at his brightest days. He never loved her and she never truely had him but she was always proud to be the Mrs. Tim Hassington. She never believed that he died for real. He must have been hiding somewhere, like always. The papers were liars, they could write anything with enough amount of money. He would come back someday, when he needs the true love of his life, she would be there for him then, with her open arms. It would not matter that he is not that famous or handsome anymore, her fame would be enough for both of them. He would come back, he had to come back. They had the passion fruit anyway, as long as Lisbeth is alive, they would always be binded together. Till death do them part...

And death did them part, years ago. Many years ago to accept but mother got only crazier every single year. She did not believe that he died, she got old, lost her fame and spent almost entire of her money to stay beautiful and it did not work. All she had then was her precious daughter that would eventually bring her lost husband back but the only thing that Lisbeth did over the passing years was losing her faith upon her mother's sane.

While she was litting her fifth cigarette, she wanted to get away from everything, run away and hide somewhere, like father like daughter, blood never lets you be free.. She wanted to see Martyn, for one last time. She would give anything to see him again but she knew that it would not be again, ever.  How long it had been since the last time she saw him? If there was anything called as the missing piece of the broken soul, at least she knew where to look to complete herself. Yet she also knew that they would never be together again. "We shouldn't have left that bubble my dear" said Lisbeth while she was staring at the bubbly tracks of the waves that hit the blond sand.

They had that air bubble, the little cave of their own, they were safe there, away from the shits of their lives, the mud of life itself. "We should never have left there, we should have known that the life would collide us, why didn't we see it coming before?" she whispered to the waves, "we should have gone till the end, bold enough to face the life as one, we left it incomplete and there is no way now to take it back now. We chose to be pride, rebel and free then. Now you are pride, rebel, free, and as a funny plus of life, you are dead as well. We should have known that the life would take our lives away, just at the first second that it catches us alone. I did not see it coming, and maybe you did not care. You are pride, rebel and free my dear, and I am lost forever."

He was stabbed from his back by a drunk junky, he died there instantly. There was no reason for that. The murderer did not even remember why or how he did it, he must have been just drunk and bored. So he did not get any punishment for what he did and he was sent to a mental hospital instead for rehab. Martyn was gone for no reason and it would not have happened if she did not let him go on that night. The night that they decided to walk through their own seperated free lives, sure they did not know that it would mean the end of Martyn's life.

She felt utterly alone and disfunctional again. She was unable to take care of the ones that she cares and unable to even show them that she cares. She saw the seagulls flying over the sea, to another land, for another life. Then her cellphone rang and distracted her. It was her mother's text. "Forgive me Bethy, you know you are all I got. Please come home, we can talk about it.."

She put her earphones and found her favorite song. The lyrics were melting her soul again while she was walking through the only home she knew.

"Life goes on it gets so heavy, the wheel breaks the butterfly... She said oh ohohohohoh I know that sun must set to rise.."

özüme notlar

Sırtından aşağı inen bir buz parçası gibi.
Hailman güneşten nefret eder, kurbağalara küfrederdi.
Camilla için bir damla ölümsüzlük.
Belki inandılar, belki de inanmadılar. Benim için fark etmiyordu.
Yaşamak yeterince zor, ölmekse büyük işti.

Bir psikolojik vakıa örneği olarak; "Öğrenilmiş Loser'lık"

Galiba midem bulanıyor. "Aman Tanrım!" diyorum kötü çevrilmiş Amerikan dizilerindeki gibi. Aslen tamamen ambale olmuş bir halde ve aralıksız iki dakika boyunca tavana bakıp "Shit! Gooood-daaamn! Oh my fucking God!" falan demişim mesela ama çevirince en temel haliyle "Aman Tanrım" demişler gibi. Kafamın içinde genelde ingilizce konuşuyor olmam gibi minik bir ayrıntı olmasa belki kendimi daha net ifade edebilirdim ama genelde toplum ahlakımızın bekası için böyle eksik ve dandik çeviriler yapmak benim de işime geliyor, yalan yok.

Neyse konumuz bu değil. "Aman Tanrım" diyerek tavana bakıyorum. Bazen bir kitap okursunuz ve işte tam da böyle olur. Nakavt halde tavana bakıp koca bir hayat dilimini gözden geçirmek zorunda kalırsınız. Çünkü insanlar böyledir. Bir imaj isterler. İnsanların gözünde iyi görünecek, afilli bir imaj. "Bunu ben asla yapmam mesela" deme yavşaklığında kesinlikle değilim, yanlış anlaşılmasın. İçinde "asla" geçen cümleler hakkında dikkatli davranmanız gerektiğini de bilahare başka bir yazıda anlatabilirim ama konuyu dağıtmamam gerek.

İmaj genel hatları ile aslen 2ye ayrılır, veya ayrılmalıdır. Sahip olunan imaj - yansıyan imaj. Fakat bazen işin içine bir de arzu edilen imaj girer ve burada kişinin üstün rol kabiliyeti yahut gerçekten de her nasılsa arzu edilene dönüştüğüne yönelik olarak zamanla evrilen bireysel eğilimi faktörlerinin de devreye girmesi ile ortaya tezat bir görüntü çıkar. Sonrasında iyi niyetinizle veya buna yakın temenninizle karşınızdaki kişinin de sahip olduğu ve yansıttığı imajın denk olduğunu düşünüp, bahsi geçen kişinin "gerçek" olduğuna inanırsınız. Bu durum karşı tarafın bariz bir falso vermemesi halinde uzun müddet devam eder, belki kimseye bir zararı da olmaz, veya olur, depends on the circumstances.

Sonra bir gün bir kitap okursunuz veya bir film izlersiniz veya bir durduk yere olmadık bir sikim olacağı tutar işte ve parçalar birleşir. Kalakalırsınız.

Yani şahsa münhasır bir yetenek ürünü olduğuna inanıp hayran olduğunuz tablo, aslen her nedense ünü az duyulmuş ama güzelliği aşikar bir Edvard Munch tablosunun kötü bir kopyasıdır. Sonra "ulan hassiktir, böyle işin de amına koyamayacaksak nereye koyarız?" diyip tavana bakarsın. Ressam bilip tapındığın insan aslında cin aliden sonrasını bilmiyormuş da önüne ne koyduysa arakmış? Tablolarındaki melankolik pesimizmi aslında mevcut tablolara instagram filtresi atmakla yakalamış mesela? Ciddi ciddi öğrenilmiş bir loserlıkmış aslında?

"Ulan" diyorum bir kere, çok değil yahu hepi topu bir kere, psikolojisi normal bir insan ile karşılaşalım? Sonunda da kafayı kırarız gene illa ki lazımsa, ona da peki ama bari kendi dilimizle konuşalım? Oh may gad demek istiyorum yahu, aydınlanışlarım bir seferinde de hayra alamet olsa kıyametten kuşku edip yaşama daha bir sıkı tutunacağım belki ama olmuyor, Allah belamı versin ki olmuyor lan..

"Hangi gerçek ne kazandırdı da sapına kadar dürüstlüğün şakşakçısısın be Kamil?" diye sual eden olursa onlara cevabım "teorin hatalı çünkü sapım yok, istersen soruyu bir daha düşün tatlıms" olacak. Sapım yok, çöpüm yok, evet bilhassa son dönemin en çöpsüz üzümü olduğumu fark ettim. Aklınızda bulunsun, "yeterince uzun bir müddet ve yeterince uzağa gideceğini taahhüt eden insan" kadar çöpsüz bir üzüm türü yok. Çekirdeksiz üzüm, şaraplık fransız kırmızı üzümü, napolyon kirazı, washington portakalı, malatya kayısısı, siktir edin. Evet hepsini bir kalemde siktir edin! Bir kimseye yeterince uzun süre görüşmeyeceğini delillerle taahhüt etmiş bir kimse kadar cezbedici bir canlı türü yok. Buna hayvanlar ve bitkileri de dahil ettiğim hususu zannediyorum ki fark edilmiştir.

Bu bilgiyi neden verdim derseniz, uzun bir süre ortalıktan kaybolacağımı belirttiğimden beri telefonum susmuyor, mesaj kutum yoğunluktan felç geçirdi, randevu defterimi duruşma defterimden daha dolu hale getirmeye topluca and içmiş gibiler.

Kullanın yani aklınızda olsun. Çocukluk aşkınızdan yeni evlenen eski sevgilinize kadar geniş bir skala ile iletişim kurmanızın yolu facebook profili açmak değil, cümle aleme ortadan kaybolacağınızı yeterince yüksek sesle söylemenizdir. Twitterda fenomenseniz belki bu bahane ile tercihinize göre değişmek kaydıyla kate upton'ı veya nick bateman'ı filan bile tavlayabilirsiniz, o kadar diyorum. Atın fava bekleyin.

Mevcut durumu her geçen gün insanlık daha bir midemi bulandırdığı için yazık ki fırsata çeviremiyorum. Ama bu tekniği ilk keşfeden insan olarak adımı tarihin hiç değilse buralarda bir yerlerine yazmak istedim. Egomu gizlemiyorum evet, egolar hepimizin, nasıl kullanacağını bildikten sonra kein(e) problem (problemin artikeli neydi?), neyse yemişim almancasını da, this is how we do. Hadi Allahaısmarladık...