IN ARMS

ILL IN THE BLANKS (never sick!)

Sitting in tha boom of the best happiest white art rap I could imagine

Being a bored groupie with a banana, happy art and people and washable sausages saying NOLOLOMARNOLOLOMAR BUT JUST MISSING MY CUE BECAUSE OF WRITING IT DOWN, LIFE HUH?!

In the times of eurowhatvision, inbetween the funny Of almost but never going insane In the name of arts (NEVER WROTE ART TWICE  in A BLOG BEFORE, I THink) . In the times of soon seeing the loved ones, in the times of adrenalin in the lounge, in the times wolf never boring and never alone

Join us
In whatever way you can
Now and at eleven

CHOPGANG FOREVER BITCHES

FUTURELOVE

All I see is love

in a dark future of no money and no lust for forced square planned life I still imagine NLOmar in the most beautiful shiny car (or sometimes on a horse and sometimes on a bike, of course) picking me up and driving us around wherever we wanna go. This fantasy is enough on any blue day. Love saves all.

This is supposed to be a post with videos from Istanbul - - - - -> look to the future

This is supposed to be a post with a photo of the first W of a kerouac-bio-title-> look to the future

We`ll be together in a real life fantasy soon, lovely `N all Love Omar

V DAY; cupid come

AT THE BAZAR. walking around the little shops trying to not let anyone get to my eye. they mostly have the same in every door so i keep walking longing for surprise. then theres a teenager. it does it, its eyes catches mine then down to the fingers and it says thats nice what does it say? I H R A what does it mean i ask hoping it would have associations in this land for us to put stories in. it doesnt know moving on taking the next hand L I L L. its a name, i say. BROTHER SISTER, FRIEND? WIFE. it has already sold me safran and fezes. it doesnt wanna let me go. we re standing there with IHRA LILL in our hands. holding on to us it leads me to the corner of the little shop. the APRODISIAQUE. for u, for IHRA LILL, it says. IF YOU TAKE THIS YOU CAN MAKE LOVE 5 TIMES IN THE NIGHT says the jar. of course i take it.

post turk and split by borders again but hoping ur feeling my endless boner reaching out to ur heart tonite baby valentine ILL A

+ it must be old enough for the heart to bleed or does this not have an age? i am sure my heart was a lighter one ten years ago but then again im late, always was and lucky to have that long childhood free of blood more than most. i am growing up and all hearts owns this day. the sneakier blood has left me happy at the malnourished side of life where the this aprodisiaque is swallowed with sect, i put my love in familiar places, hause, soft bod and the kumpir, the week trad boner of a potato into my face, now x 5, safran, tender, everturk. kiss

leaving for the bazar

the only thing a hundred procent sure about today is that art in general is not important. the word art is not importantly used in this context of love and almost never will be. but we are on a journey in the name of it and our eyes and therefore brain are forced into this specific mode. tonight we tried to drown most colors and shapes in a pink mix of raki and red with the mix of a filled room and music from phones in a plastic cup-speaker. Not acting like white trash all the way, just all the way we want to. No poetics, just drunken flow. Omar taking a shower while happy slaughter is on the tv. we will find suiting images without the whole story, but we feel our loved ones seeing it all the way through. Istanbul day  four, still not learning our history, but getting oh so good at walking rolling updown ancient hills.