#litherature

[malleusmaleficarumpassim]

Just like a perfect day Lou Reed, songs of the day Trainspotting , movie of the day 3K Of Mine all day(Running-Writing& Drinking) #artdecoring #artisan #photographer #photos #pic #photography #picsart #writing #writingprompts #writingcommunity #litherature #artist #fiction #novela #novel #creavity #runnersofinstagram #thelast40daysofJesus #edebiyat #kurmaca #spor #istanbuldayaşam #istanbul #beşiktaşdayaşam #kadikoy fenerbahce (at CRAFT Tiyatro)

[hematofagus]

Krall Jagger - The Savior (2)

While the drunk was squashing me against the wall someone hit him so hard that the was pushed several meters away from where I was. Drunk, sweaty and dirty, disgusted by what happened with the drunk man, I tried to stand up but it was in vain because I did not have the strength to stand up, I was shaking, so I leaned against the wall.. I, as confused as I could be, I kept looking at the two guys who were in the alley.

The drunk was on the ground, he was looking the tall man with fear. The other man, the one standing, a tall, well-dressed man with apparent calm, pushed his cane against the drunken man's neck. The drunkard's eyes were as open as if he had seen a ghost, at that very moment the drunkard was pissing on his own pants ... The tall man, who wore a long dark coat, raised his cane and hit the drunkard leaving him unconscious . I was confused and frightened at the same time, I did not know if the tall man was helping me or perhaps I was going to run the same fate as the drunkard.

The tall man in the dark coat turned around and stared at me, his eyes were crystalline blue, his gaze was penetrating and cold, that kind of look that could pierce the soul. He looked at me without gesturing, serious ... Then he started to walk towards me and he stood in front of me, then he extended his hand to help me to stand up, thing that I did not rejected. He helped me to get up and he put his coat on my shoulders ...

“I will help you...” he said in a soft voice. ”Let’s get out of here...”

We walked without saying anything for 10 minutes until we stopped in front of a horse carriage. A young boy appeared out of nowhere and opened the carriage door for us. The young man smiled and nodded inviting me to enter the cabin, this boy wore elegant and clean clothes, apparently he was the coachman.

I entered the carriage and the tall man also did the same, he closed the door and knocked on the walls of the cabin giving instructions to the coachman to go to somewhere. Exhausted and drunk I fell asleep on the trip, for some reason I did not feel threatened by these people but rather protected.

I woke up the next morning, I was clean and shaved, they had put me a pajama and had let me sleep in a comfortable and huge bed. I kept quiet for a while thinking what the hell I was doing here, who were that people who had brought me here and what they wanted from me.

Unexpectedly, the door opened and a middle-aged woman entered the room. She brought a tray with food: orange juice, toast with butter and jam and some muffins. The woman smiled, she left the tray next to the bed and wished me a good morning. After that, she went to open the curtains so that the sun's rays could enter the room.

Later, the woman brought me some clean clothes, always with a smile on her face.

“I hope you enjoyed your breakfast” she said animatedly. “Mr. Costas is waiting for you downstairs when you are ready to speak with him.”

I wondered who this Mr. Costas was, whoever he was, I had the obligation to go down the stairs to thank him for the gesture of the previous night and for all the details that he had offered me when he welcomed me into his house that night giving me clean clothes and shelter . I was a little scared but at the same time grateful, I dressed myself and took the strength to face the incredible situation I was living, I just had to open that door and go down the stairs...

[malleusmaleficarumpassim]

Alcoholic movement fans dedicated who grow up Besiktaş children ... 😊 #franksinatra #freedom #openminded #art #litherature #beyondtheera #fun #follow #cinephile #besiktas #istanbul #bosphorus (at Istanbul, Turkey) https://www.instagram.com/p/B2DqjR7hI49/?igshid=1vejr17q3nqei

[malleusmaleficarumpassim]

Flight Before alighting, the soul sails through Heaven’s shoreless hue; Doesn’t Noah in the Flood thus resemble a bird too? The sky above is laden with prolonged clouds that capture Momently below the sea’s primeval foamy texture. The sea in its shaking does not know what its waves number, As millions of waves millions of waves more from slumber; Its constant uproar is a folk song, spacious, full of cries, Full of millions of shutings, millions of shouted replies. Each time the stars in their highlands open to the atmosphere, A world they have imagined begins to appear. Only a soul-supporting air is above in the sky; It s in the sensations that teach daydreams how to fly. Only in this tier of the can constant flight be real With every turn, the soul, that bird with scissor wings of steel, Sights land on the horizon for less than a few moments, Free in the sky, flying free in the sea, free in the distance. YAHYA KEMAL BÉYATLI #poems #turkishinstagram #litherature #photooftheday #istanbuldayaşam #prohography #besiktas #artlife #life #oldish #happy #beliver (at Eminönü, Istanbul, Turkey) https://www.instagram.com/p/BowEuQODema/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1mf7ijhaamek5

[malleusmaleficarumpassim]

#childhoodend #fun #litherature #book #sciencefiction (at Shangri-La Bosphorus, Istanbul)

[brwnsugr-blog]

after a while you learn to let it go. you condition yourself to the raw truth and you just let it go. because holding on only weighed you down and nothing positive ever came from holding a grudge. because carrying it with you only made the load heavier and the wound worse and you’ll realize some battles aren’t even worth fighting. so surrender to what is, let go of what was, and accept what will never be. do yourself the favor and forgive, but don’t you dare forget. free yourself, you deserve to heal.

litHerature.

[carlosjacug]

persigo a la sombra de su lengua por la pintura azul-violácea que nunca he hecho y qué por razones de errores y cuadros el suicidio me dicta lentamente

[carlosjacug]

en silencio, con una mano en el sístole y la otra en el diástole, conjugar una respuesta no es la mejor cuenta para la noche y por supuesto, las pinturas tienen razón, los puntos nunca serán líneas