from: "çivit" (indigo blue)
title: url
form: e-mail letter

Yıldırım Türker wonderfully painted the term “black stain of shamelessness” from red to black with his pen in his column. It went out my printer and went in my file.

I also keep a file captioned “Incoming from Hakan”, it is a file storing a file of joy.

It was exactly one week ago when I contracted the Indigo Blue. Perhaps in a want of imitating you, I resumed to use a long-forgotten big goblet of wine. It is enjoyable to drink from it, but I run out of wine soon.

It snowed without a break until four in the morning, so that Ankara now looks like a bride. So I watched that wedding ceremony from my window.

Wine tastes the same. Some people stepped on Ankara’s wedding gown to stain it, but its surface is very clean in the present. I think to walk uphill a little and throw myself in that whiteness, so that this indigo blue would probably thin out. If I roll in that whiteness, wrap its wedding gown around my body and head, wrap it tight, let me disappear in it, maybe they would see a purplish pain in it in the morning. But they wouldn’t say it thinned out, would they?
They wouldn’t know it, wouldn’t be able to know it...