In a nice world

”Do you like music?” she asked me.
“I do if it is nice music in a nice world,” I said.
“In a nice world there is no nice music,” she said, as if revealing some deep secret. “In a nice world the air doesn’t vibrate.”
 
Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman by Haruki Murakami

Coffee #4

Are you always in such a good mood in the mornings? I asked my favorite barista. Yes, as a matter of fact, he is! his coworker said and burst out in laughter.

 

 It is just a disguise! he said You should see me on my way home from work! and smiled his sweetest smile, which tends to smitten each and every one of his customers with happiness. Have a wonderful day, ladies! he says and makes us all giggle, even the ones who think they are not capable of smiling that early in the morning.

  

You know, someone met my brother and described me as this enthusiastic guy and my brother didn’t recognize the description at all, he concluded. I choose not to believe in his attempt to make himself sound less sweet. Noone can smile like that in disguise.

Coffee #3

In the old days Turkish girls used to be brought up to make perfect coffee with a perfect amount of foam on the top of the small cup. Turkish coffee is not only aesthetically pleasant, but it tastes heavenly, as well; at least when it is made pure and strong, almost bitter, and with no milk or sugar. Whether or not a girl was considered a catch was defined after the level of her skills for making coffee. Unfortunately my parents never taught me to make perfect Turkish coffee, but my father did teach me to enjoy it; when I was younger he always made me smell the coffee before he put it on. Mmm…smell, he would say and would take a deep breath and fill my lungs with the aroma.

Coffee #2

Come on, smell me…

Taste me…

Drink me…

…it says.

Every day I am seduced by, drawn to and controlled by coffee. I give into it. My devotion is endless. And so is my love.

And when there are times I try to keep a distance, my heart aches and I yearn for the taste and the smell.

Coffee #1

When getting to know someone, I think it is important to know exactly how they prefer their coffee and I do not consider myself knowing a person before I have been informed about their favorite.

encouragement

by andrew droz palermo

time

Will we meet again someday? I’d love to. Even if it’s in like 5 years. I don’t mind the time, it’s always passing anyway.

…he said.

He smiled understandingly…

– much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced – or seemed to face – the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice  in your favour. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.

The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald

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He rushed to his pocket, took out his lighter and gave it to me. I am good, aren’t I? I remembered right away. I giggled, pretty surprised a guy like him didn’t light my cigarette, but mostly pretty amused by his boyish gestures, yet he is older and so much wiser than I am.

I stopped in the middle of the street. It was almost raining.

It is almost dark. It is almost bright, I said in a calm manner.

He stopped a few steps later and looked at me. He laughed.

There was a time in Roskilde, many years ago… Dark clouds surrounded us and it was about to rain. Everything that was green looked intensely green. The color was indescribable.

My mother is just like you. She paints, you know, and goes on and on about the light…and forces me to go out in the woods with her, only because of the light.

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photo by ilkin demircan