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Category Archives: Travel
November 24, 2013 by Gökhan Tanrıöver |
She couldn’t tell if it was a desire or a need. She didn’t know if she needed to celebrate this side of her or blame her parents. Who was she to blame and whom would she blame, the one that incestually took away her dandelion innocence or the one who taught her to use lust as a tool, as a beacon of power?
She had dinner alone every night at the Le Tire Bouchon. She was alone in her mind, but never at her table. She would be coy and avoid eye contact because she knew that that’s what they wanted, to let them believe they were the predator and not the prey.
October 7, 2013 by Gökhan Tanrıöver |
Hello my confidant. It has happened again and I don’t know who else to tell. It appears that you are the only one that will believe me or even listen in the first place. Again it was in the middle of my rest period that I found myself there, the location that I can‘t describe more accurately than “that world”.
It is the third time in this lunar cycle that I floated from my slumber to a place that lacks colour. This time I passively and reluctantly moved down a metallic sliding platform that penetrated a rhombus. There was someone else in front of me and as he moved into the rhombus, I saw someone else come out of it.
I came across a girl that was stuck inside a box. She sat at the edge of it, motionless apart from her hands, focusing on a small trinket that was transmitting visions and sounds. From time to time she gazed to a white domed palace with a certain longing. I believed that she was entrapped there and her person of interest was in the palace trying to communicate through her trinket.
I walked out of the invisible doors and saw a creature that reminded me of the pests that hide in our homes. It hopped towards me as I reached out and travelled through the air, lacking grace or charm. It flew past a most bizarre structure of interlinked squares of dead trees that reached nowhere. I did not understand its function or what the two women on top of it were doing.
I followed the direction of the thick strand of liquid with its never-ending motion towards a cold metallic structure. My eyes instinctively travelled up to reveal the first letter of my name, Kyiru… Could this be a coincidence or was there a higher power taking me there? With this question that made me half scared and half excited, I glanced back over the metal lines uncovering the glass city where I woke up in and continued forward.
I continued forward through a dark tunnel resembling the metal platform that brought me there. The darkness was interrupted regularly with light sources, revealing interlinked squares and triangles. I was taken aback when I noticed a glowing globe hanging at the edge of the tunnel exit. What further surprised me was that there was someone inside a globe appearing larger and larger with small movements of his legs until he vanished and appeared in front of me. The only logical explanation that I have is he travelled through the globe portal and that he is very used to this mode of transport, hence his lack of expression in response to my perplexed face.
Another curious fact was the abundance of water. Apart from that giant moving strand, I could feel some on my face. It was as if the water was able to fly but only in one direction. Also something that would really impress the alchemists back home is that I’ve seen a see-thorough rock slowly turn into water. This rock had a symbol on it and it felt very very cold.
Like the vertically flying water, I too moved in one direction. I don’t know why I chose to follow this route but it lead me into a building whose grandiosity suggested that it was a palace lacking security guards or any other means of selecting who is worthy to enter it. The large groups of people moving independently like stray pockets of magic pushed me through a small gate. My curiosity took the best of me and I jumped into a moving roofed metallic platform with circular feet that spun. It moved along a bed of metal lines that seemed to go on endlessly and was only interrupted in very short intervals by smaller lines perpendicular to it.
The inside of this roofed platform was spacious and was populated with cushioned seats. Behind me I heard voices speaking in another tongue, and through the little crevice between the seats I started watching them. Although it was the first time that I had seen them during that voyage, I could not shake off the feeling that we had met before. As I tried to remember when I had encountered this man with the wavy hair, crinkled skin and velvet voice, he looked at me with his gentle eyes and once again I found myself back in my small humble lodgings, back in “my world”, yet another time.
© Gökhan Tanrıöver