my favourites from the decade/ 2019

i wanted to post my favourite movies from the 2010s as instagram stories but turns out i loved many and it would be time consuming for the both parties to go through it. so, im here to share my favourites, and not just movies either.

movies

the sunset limited (tw: suicide, so i don't recommend it to those who are susceptible to such thoughts)
mandariinid
mother!
la vie d'Adéle (i hate abdellatif kechiche but, i mean, it's lea and adele, how can i resist)
interstellar
her
i, daniel blake
loin des hommes (excellent albert camus short story adaptation)
like crazy (changed all my thoughts on long distance and love and got me crying everytime i thought of it. plus, it's dustin o'halloran score)
get out
i origins (love and its transformation, aaah)
inception
dunkirk (not the story but how the score and timeline of it is harmonical)
whiplash (i got my very own fletcher)
the dark knight rises (watched it last night on tv again... just..)
the east
a separation (i got closer with my ex boyfriend through this movie)
the favourite (you can't resist olivia colman and on top of everything, it's YORGOS FUCKING LANTHIMOS!)
rush (rip lauda)
relatos salvajes (truly wild, like the name suggests. bombita.)
john wick (a new take on the action genre)
raw (i love veganism.............)
the killing of a sacred deer (i guess we can put all the lanthimos movies here)
green room (a new take on the thriller genre, for me. jeremy saulnier. anton yelchin. the green.)
bolgen (natural disaster movie but better)
a quiet place (that scene got me crying like a baby)
the world's end
finding vivian maier (excellent doc. must watch if a feminist.)
suspiria (it's guadagnino. fiennes. swinton. johnson. thom yorke made the soundtrack GAAAHH)
gone girl (the more i think of it, the more i love amy dunne. and it's fincher. you don't say no to fincher.)
laurence anyways (it's dolan. poupaud. moderat's a new error. trans.)
the girl with the dragon tattoo (i like the setting)
hell or high water (im a whore for western. and it's nick cave & warren ellis soundtrack)
frances ha (couldn't find the words)
jagten (gets you to question a lot of shit)
a bigger splash (la piscine)
the big sick (warm)
call me by your name (i cried at the book and then i cried at the movie)
nocturnal animals (GAWWWWWWWD)
jeune et jolie
ahlat ağacı (the father character is just..just..)
alphago
anima (paul thomas anderson directed short)


series 

the fall (feminist series imo, gillian just..f me)
dark (the fact that they put blixa bargeld and apparat is simply amazing.)
fleabag (just finished it yesterday)
sharp objects (i need to talk about this for pages. tw. self-harm, suicide)
years and years (watched it with my ex. this gave me shit loads of anxiety. must watch for everyone imo)
şahsiyet (best turkish series imo)
barry (wooooW. bill hader. let's talk about bill hader)
house of cards (claire hale is my president)
oasis (why didn't they continue?)
game of thrones (it was a gamechanger, there is no denying in that)
the crown (acting. accents. the score. everything. but vanessa kirby. oh gawd)
true detective (first season. haunting.)
the durrells (lawrence durrell.. thats all im gonna say)



books

im not sure if i have read books written in this decade, most of the stuff i read were too old. i will check and update later.



magazines, journals

altyazı (ci ne ma)
socrates (all things sports, but highly very different from the usual sports mag. this one "thinks" ;) )



songs, artists, albums

still woozy (all songs. all.)
moderat (all.)
agnes obel's piano pieces
hindi zahra's "any story" song.
alt-j, taro
matty, i'll gladly place myself below you
foals, birch tree
leisure, know you better
thom yorke's suspiria score, works with modeselektor and others.

(find me on spotify!)



misc.

i have enjoyed my fair share of illustrations and various forms of art. this year, i loved m_d_n_f_'s work. follow them on instagram and see what i mean.


suspiria


sascha ring at a moderat show

call me by your name, chalamet

alphago doc


years and years


anima, thom yorke and paul thomas anderson

la vie d'adéle


the east


green room (a)

laurence anyways


sharp objects


like crazy


shot by vivian maier


matthias schoenaerts in a bigger splash


the sunset limited


jeune et jolie


her

johann johannsson made a song on hyacinths and it killed me

i finished reading call me by your name, in the most unexpected reaction i could ever give to a novel: crying. always prone to crying, in private or public, i hardly ever cry at written stuff because.. well i don't know. seeing someone burst with emotions, the single tear, the hold backs.. it's not the same when you are mumbling words in your head.

but then again, it was a book ending in a break-up, and enormous amount of time piling up on that break-up. recently been through a hard one, and almost got another one on my hands those days, how could i not?

anyways. so i finished call me by your name. but i don't think i'll ever call anyone by mine, zehra. maybe nuverandi or maybe flower. one is the alter ego and the other is the literal meaning of my name.

started reading daha by hakan günday and i shall see how this one goes. my mind is on that lawrence durrell quartet: alexandria. it just seems dreamy. maybe later. maybe.

johann johannsson made a song on hyacinths and it killed me. december is a dreary month, things are silent, all but the wind in trees. you should dance to that.

back on track, with a few shots

i went out once with the intention of buying oranges maybe and came home with a big bottle of jagermeister. so we move here from bad coffee to good coffee to a relapse of bad coffee to jagermeister. that's about it. that's my week.

at times i'm still bummed out about what happened over the past month but it's less and less each day because of the present love i keep on getting. good overcomes bad, feelings-wise. it's incredible how something new sticks up with you.

i finished sir harry luke's cyprus book. how awesome it was to take a journey with the kings and queens of cyprus for the past two weeks. i wish they'd haunt me in my dreams every night. taking me with them through medieval cyprus, famagusta, kyrenia.. wherever.

now reading call me by your name by andré aciman and preparing for my heart to ache with that sweet summer love. it's alright nuverandicim, you are allowed to cry at romances.

watched the irishman, marriage story and under the skin this week. i love how detailed the first one is, but turns out my attention span can and will outweigh good cinema. also, what the hell was that with de-ageing? de niro's eyes were bothering me so so much. marriage story, on the other hand, was a raw piece of work. raw acting, story and all things. with its warm colours and styling, it may have taken my heart at a beat. laura dern was once again the power we all were but not at all aware. it's good to have two sides of a story to study. finally, under the skin. it made me miss scotland and had me searching for cheap tickets. how i miss gloomy scotland. anyways. i thought it was a bit missing on the narrative side. but, oh theybies, the stunning visuals. eerie score. scottish landscape. the eroticism of it all. come, to, me.

ate oranges, celery stalks, coriander, deep fried mushrooms, butter-y rice, sour cherry filling croissants, kerman pistachios, sunflower seeds, almonds soaked in water the night before, green lentils this week. a palette for the tummy and the heart. all things earth. earthy stalks of celery and tips of coriander. darker the weather, darker the green.

i thought of my favourite places to go here and the first one that popped into my head was the market. i loved a bit (okay, not a bit maybe) of grocery shopping. i cook alone. i eat alone. it's like a daily routine for pleasure now. getting my radiohead playlist up and going, singing to it. waiting my rice to soak up all the water, waiting my mushrooms to get all golden coated. maybe if there was a bookstore nearby, it would have been my favourite place. oh well, what can you do.

on my way to university today, decided to list you my favourite road songs. not roadtrip. just road, itself in general.

japanese breakfast- roadhead (morning commute from kyrenia to famagusta, seeing the green kyrenian mountain range)
moderat- bad kingdom (my february trip to istanbul)
pogo- no worries (my friend played this at the bar he was working at, the mood gets me going every night walk)
the xx- fiction (kyrenia to famagusta, and the other way around)
apparat- arcadia (famagusta to kyrenia, daytime)

anyways.

some bad coffee, in between

a few cups of tea throughout the day, only to be ending it with bad instant coffee with some coconut milk -which definitely doesn't cure- in. i thought good coffee accounted for the good chats we had with you, and since i assume that to be a bad cup of it, why not talk about sad shit.

i spent this week getting blamed for different actions i took but, one got to me. i showed some other person a bit of my interest and ended up getting denied of a marriage proposal by another. my closest pals say this marriage proposal discussion was just a way to get me feeling bad about my whole relationship situations, i wouldn't know. i wouldn't know.

all i can think about is that i was thiiiis close to finalising things with a person, until it fell apart a great deal. i wonder how it would be feeling like, you know, being engaged to someone? i never dreamt about getting married, getting engaged or whatever because mainly i didn't think moi was worthy. well someone *did* thought that. someone *did* consider me asking *the* question.

all i gave them was a disappointment. just like any other relationship i had before. any other heartbreak. any other break(up) of some sorts. this time, plus the issue of marriage.

i can't help but wonder,,

good coffee talks

so finally i bought myself good filter coffee last month, and maybe that's why i come here more often to talk with you. and maybe that's why my talks are longer and more personal. that is good coffee my friend, whoever you are.

hi there. hello.

ooooh, my cat came back by the way. kissed her shitloads. good news my pals. it's so weird how you get attached to beings. cats, birds, humans. my heart pounded too many times, i felt like letting go of everything and sobbing on the floor. maybe this is how my breakups should have felt. oh.

i drank chamomile tea. i did some writing for my projects. it still feels like the world is coming in on me, with all its weight for my mind, all the waters for my tears and all the volcanoes for my heart. cravings of tonight are sour cherry filling croissants and salty cashews. the tummy wants what it wants and it is.. emotional eating.

sometimes i am stable enough to go through a day without thinking on my mistakes and the paths i took overall, but maybe it is not who i am normally. stability is overrated and one must go crazy over things going shit.

in any case, i found good cinema and series made me a bit calm. so, again. let's drown in.

i made a playlist for my breakup. put three songs (yet). i always make playlists when i first meet someone and then my roads diverge with them. how weird of a thing to be doing. it's like getting the songs stained a bit here and there. the stains are permanent, every time you listen to a song they are there. you suck, things suck, this song hurts me.

i love someone now, but the uncertainty kills me. mama likes a bit of clarity.

call me and tell me you love me, wake me up from a dream so i know it's real.

hi there. by-bye!

no titles because fuck titles

my cat went missing. i spent my day searching for her, crying in between. my only hope is that she comes back, soon, safe and sound. cats are weird. i miss her so much, i miss her so much. please come back.

in other news, i did more editing on our capstone report only to reassure myself on the fact that starting something is the hardest of all. it all goes smooth once you begin. spent hours. listened to some good music. that's how work should be done, am i wrong?

christmas blend smelled nice. we drank espressos in the balcony. cats climbed on us. i took my book out, failing to read even a single page. maybe it's not me, it's kyrenia. i brew coffee. poured some coconut milk in it. went on a search for mırmır. couldn't find her. took sunset pictures.

my heart aches.

i think on love.

creep plays in my head. but im a creep, im a weirdo. oh yes, yes honey.

my radiohead playlist gets bigger. im a serious playlist-maker. because thats how work demands to be done. with seriousness.

run away?

almost a month since i last took the bus to kyrenia, spent my hours shuffling through my playlists. at some point, being in famagusta is just suffocating even though i am free without my family's judgement towards my drinking, being out late and so on. we got eight cats at home, we got citrus trees in the garden and an oven that is simple to use. obviously one misses it.

one also misses talking to a person, with a genuine wish to. not that i don't have company of my own in famagusta, but the thing is i am all alone in the house. other than that sexist series' sound echoing through the old greek cypriot walls, there is nothing.

cooking, drinking, reading and in the end, sleeping alone. i am lucky if the person i like actually has the time to give me a call and make my night.

so today i woke up after coming home from a good evening spent with a good friend, drinking together and discussing all things that made us alive. all i wanted was to run away from the town, when the morning light enters the room through spaces between, it becomes all too unbearable. i accept my defeat and wear my flower shirt, pack my tea and coffee in tins, leave everything as one would wish to find it once back.

my mother is cooking leek tonight. considering that i ate nothing that wasn't fried for a whole week, leek sounds divine. it smells divine. our kitchen is a cold place. actually, our house as a whole is a cold place because it's not isolated and everywhere you go it's marble and we didn't install any central heating systems, so on. our kitchen is warmed up with our conversations.

maybe it even "heats up", you know. sometimes it is just to regret i ever run away from famagusta, but i resist the urge to. anyways.

see, getting committed to writing a bit everyday. turns out, all one ever has to do is to stop saving stuff for drafts and actually publish. maybe maybe maybe. anyways. it's better if i leave now, focus my night on eating good food, watching the crown, and editing my work.

see you. if you can run away, please do.

words are empty air

feeling like dancing here, in the dead cold lab. probably more alive than i ever was earlier this week. maybe that has got to do with intensive reading, maybe watching a carefully crafted story unfold and maybe not forcing my luck with the night as it progressed.

in any case, today i was able to leave the bed, cook myself up a nutritious breakfast and take my vitamins, leaving house before noontime. a person of small joys and ambitions, i find myself unable to think that far ahead. a week at tops. last week my motivation to go through the anxiety-filled midterms week was i could watch the crown's new season as soon as it was over. this week, it's that i'll go to kyrenia and kiss all the cats i can grab in the garden.

an ambition. to finish a book. to soak it all in, let it run through the veins. the thing about books on cyprus is, they make me want to travel back in time and become an observer. it kills me that i can't, it kills me that i am highly aware of my limited imagination. surely, there are cathedrals, there are castles, busts and old stones and roads.. even cities, but how can one not wonder? not go crazy over it?

i wonder if the cypriot sun was like this a thousand years ago. i wonder if the people tried soaking it all up, laying on the hot marble, just as i did. what did they see when they looked up? ah. okay okay, im leaving it here because you see it too, im going crazy.

feeling like dancing here, in the dead cold lab.

please build me a time machine, let me start with the '50s cyprus, let me go back a thousand more. maybe a queen, maybe a mistress, maybe nothing at all. oh wait, i was the observer.

has ended

been doing some emotional eating recently. don't know what causes it or if going to end anytime soon. i just come home from a meeting, a hangout and i find myself eating a minimum of three plates of food at one go. not that i eat little at normal times, but eating till my tummy hurts? feeling mentally bad about having eaten that much? and also.. what the hell is that trying to burn self with hot drinks? come on nuvnuv, you can do better than that.

things have ended. namely my relationship of four years, my midterms.. my motivation. it's okay to react to them, right?

open again

started chugging down alcohol again. i'll drink and drink until that moment of throwing up, hoping i throw up my awful awful feelings too. my anger, my sorrows, my joy. till im left with none. last time i went to my psychologist i begged him to tell me how to have a heart of steel. i feared confrontation and i feared feeling anything in the first place. he asked if i thought that was a healthy attitude. i mean yeah.

people keep on running over me and you expect me to confront them so they get the chance of doing it over and over again. i don't want that. i fail to believe that no one tells bullies to stop bullying but they tell me to just to confront. fuck you.

olga's destruction

how did we get here? things end. suspiria doesn't. the dance will go on and on and on and on forever and suzy is the mater suspiriorum.

volk

i think of sour cherry filling croissants. how i squeeze them all lightly and see the jelly wobble. weird joys. since i learnt they are vegan, i must have bought too many packs. sweet tooth has been satisfied all good. maybe it's the pms. well one can only hope they are not pregnant.

i would like to leave the whole planet behind me. i would like to dance to you, at three in the morning. if you would just allow me to dance for you. can i be the witch now? let me dance to the drums.

has ended.

never mutual

feelings suck, mine are never mutual.

last night i found myself screaming "i don't love you! i CAN'T love you! i don't want you!" over and over again to this person whom i thought i couldn't get tired of, ever. being intertwined for a good amount of the past four years, things drifted apart in less than a week. i was upset, deeply. not that im never like this, but shit suuuux. always thinking of myself as this person who doesn't need to be loved at all times, who is self-sufficient and blah blah blah yet im again craving the warmth. this also.. wait for it.. sux. came to believe that i am, in the simplest of words, not worthy of what another being can show me. 

then it hit me.

nobody ever told me i could wish to be loved. nobody told me i was allowed to. even if i was, i was told it would be temporary and no one could love another person forever. love was to pass. it was like the wind.

once there was this person i was attracted to, in my most naive self, and all i got treated was like a freak for simply showing how i felt. shit.. again.. you know it.. sux.

maybe then again, my feelings are never mutual.

i am expected to outgrow them and fuck with whomever until im numbed out. 

love is nice and good, but then again not.

yeni şeyler

bu alanı güncellemek gerekiyorsa eğer; can geldi. beni aramak istemiş, ne olursa olsun arayacakmış ama telefonunu değiştirince numaramı kaybetmiş. günlerini aramamı bekleyerek, bilmediği her numaranın ben olduğunu umarak geçirmiş. aramadım.

tatlı bir özlem yaşanır mı bilmiyordum, öğrendim. sayılı günün çabuk geçmesi ne güzel olay. anlatacak şeyler biriktirdim, yokluğunu "üç kere advertising strategy dersine gideceğim" diye kafamda tuttum. heyecanımı, heyecanını paylaşabileceğimizi bilerek bekledim. ilk defa birini özlerken üzülmedim.

aylardır bitiremediğim cevdet bey ve oğulları'nı bitirdim. bir daha kütüphaneden (çünkü tam yedi kez ödünç aldım) elimde o kırmızı kapaklı kitapla çıkmamak üzere. sonra virginia woolf'tan kendine ait bir oda'yı okudum ingilizce, insanın kendine tanıdık gelen şeyleri sindirmedeki hızı şahane. gerçi, kısacıktı. şimdilerde ise birkaç sene önce gemma bovery izleyip merak ettiğim için madame bovary okuyorum. better late than never derler bilirsiniz.

dizi olarak peep show, the crown bitirdim ve barry'e başladım. filmde ise coherence, insomnia (stellan skarsgard'ın başrol oynadığı), memento, anchors aweigh, the favourite, kynodontas aklımda kaldı.

her şeye heyecan duyduğum bir dönemden geçiyorum, başka bir yerde olsaydım bunu yadırgamazmışım gibi. mesela makine yerine reklamcılık okusaymışım. mesela kıbrıs'ta değil, leicester'da olsaymışım. en sevdiğim renk sarı değil de turuncu olsaymış. the crown değil de mindhunter izleseymişim. niye böyle ki?

moderat, the fool dinliyorum. ruhumu açtım.

kötü kahve muhabbetlerine devam

kötü kahve içmeye devam ediyorum. yine de şu yorucu günlerde kötü de olsa, kahve içmenin bir rahatlatıcılığı var. içiyorum ve yük kalkıyor gibi. aslında hiçbir şey olduğu yok.

içimi yiyen, beni bitiren kaygıdan öte bir şey yok. hep bir şeylere yetişememenin korkusuylayım. mesela bugün hocanın bir saat ders işleyeceğine ve benim hemen çıkıp gidebileceğime inanarak babamla anlaştım, o beni alacak ve girne'ye gideceğim. sonra dönebilecek miyim mağusa'ya? vaktinde? niye bunları düşünüyorum ki.

chromatics - in the city açtım. tanıdık tınılar.

can askere gitti ve zaten aramızda bir ülke olduğu için kullandığı telefon ne olursa olsun iletişimde olmayacağımız bir döneme girdik bu ay için. dördüncü gündeyiz, mutfaktan elimde kötü kahvemle çıkarken "hığğ can'ı çok özledim" diye iç geçirdim.

kötü kahve sohbetleri

kahvaltı ve öğle yemeği arasında duran bir atıştırma vaktinde, arka evde oturan eski sevgilim ve yeni sevgilisinin muhabbetlerini duyuverdim (yine). sanırım kendisi evden çıkarken kız arkadaşına bir şeyin mutfaktaki yerini tarif ediyordu. sonra o gitti, kapı ardından kilitlendi. garip bir şekilde her anlarına tanıklık ediyorum. ilk başta içimi devasa bir huzursuzlukla kaplayan, kalbimi çatırdatan bu anlar artık "ben böyle biri değilmişim zaten" dememle geçip gidiyor. mutfakta oturmak kulak misafirliği demek. geçen gece bir doğum günü kutlamasına bile denk geldim! süreğen bir sevimsizlik unsuru olmamın yanı sıra, ben hiçbir zaman ne doğum günü sürprizi yapabilecek, ne de günün her saatini beraber geçirebilecek biri olmamışım. belki bunu biraz daha erken fark etseydim, tabii, en azından süreğen bir sevimsizlik olarak hafızalara kazınmazdım. sağlık olsun.

biraz instagram'da dolandıktan sonra kendime kahve koydum. kötü kahve. muhtemelen beni kanser edecek, aromadan yoksun, çirkin kahve. bir sonraki maaşımla (her şeyi bir sonraki maaşımla düşünüyorum da, maaş dediğim miktarı bir bilseydiniz gülerdiniz!) güzel bir kahve, onu öğütebileceğim bir grinder ve bilmem. birkaç minik şey daha. son kötü kahveler olsun bunlar.

sonbahar geliyor, kış gelecek. içimde hazırlık yapma isteği var.

akşamüstü güneşinde ev

tüm vücudumun ağrımasına sebep olan bir koltuk şekerlemesinden uyandım. 53dk içerisinde okulda olmam gerektiği için ayılayım diye hemen kahve yapıverdim. koltuğa oturunca uzun zamandır özenerek yapmadığım bir şeyi yapıp, ev arkadaşımla üç senedir bize yuva olmuş bu yeri inceledim. burasının özelliği bu! diyip duvardan indirmediğimiz, yerinden oynatmadığımız o kadar çok şey varmış ki aklım almıyor. kapının üstünde, duvardaki meryem ana (?) başı, oturup sigara içen köylü bir kadının fotoğrafı, yeşilçam oyuncuları posteri, boş fanus...

listeyi uzatmamız mümkün, belki bir gün uzatırız da.

şimdi evin en sevdiğim eşyasını söyleyeyim. ilk sene kendim seçtiğim, kapının dışındaki ayçiçekli welcome süsü. hiç silmiyor, temizlemiyorum. o sarısı, o metali her şeyi tutuyor. geleni ve geçeni, yağmuru ve kavurucu güneşi. eve hoşgeldik.

bir daha işe gideceğim günlerin öğleninde bira içmeyeceğim, bu sıcakta feci mayışıyorum.

moderat, ghostmother

psikolog sonrası, gün bir

dün hayatımda ilk kez bir psikolog ile konuştum. çekine çekine gittim, ya içime dert edindiğim bu şeyler bir ceviz kabuğunu bile doldurmuyorsa diye korktum. ağlayıp zırlar ve konuşamam diye de korktum.

çok kaygım varmış. stresim, paniğim, yetersizlik duygum, onay ihtiyacım.. pek hatırlamıyorum tüm konuşmayı ama bunları eminim duyduğuma.

işe mola vermem gerekiyormuş uzunca bir süre belki. her şeye koşturmak, sorumluluk üstüne sorumluluk almaya çabalamak bana pek iyi gelmemiş. yarım saat bile olsa yürümeliymişim.

neyse işte öyle böyle derken normalde iki hafta sonrasına randevu yazarım ama sana haftaya yazacağım dedi ve bu süre içerisinde gözlem yapmamı, birazcık sosyalleşmeye çaba göstermem gerektiğini ve yürümemi tavsiye etti. ben de onları günlüğe not ederim diye düşündüm ama sonra defteri bulamadım o yüzden buraya yazacağım.

dün yaptıklarım şöyleydi.

iran çayı içtim

kuruyemişçiye gidip kendime kooccaman antep fıstığı paketi yaptırdım ve tek oturuşta yedim

canım çok çekiyordu, marketten humus ve makarna aldım. salçalı makarna yapıp humusla beraber yedim

bulaşık yıkadım

çay demledim

konuşmak istediğim kişi bunu bugüne erteledi ve yine içimdekileri dışarı atamamanın verdiği huzursuzlukla birkaç dakika ağladım

bir sürü himym bölümü izledim

erken uyudum (12 gibi)

bazı günlerin bazı saatleri, 4

rimel sürmek
papatya çayı
soru çözebilmek
üç öğün yemek yemiş olmak
mantar
moderat, a new error
siyah elbise giymek
girne'ye gitme planları
fransa grand prix
buzdolabındaki bira
'ben bunu yapabilirim' hissiyatı
şarkı söylemek
florence welch'in nick cave'e mektup uzatması

bazı günlerin bazı saatleri, 3

dünden beri dışarda asılı olan pembe havlu
günler boyunca biriktirilip bugün makineye atılan kirli çamaşırlar
the doobie brothers- listen to the music parçasına eşlik etmek, dans etmek
günün çalışma programını çıkartmak
çöpleri atmak
dün demlediğin çayı ısıtmak
saçını örmek
france grand prix qualification günü
duşta yeni bir şarkıya yıkanmak
yaz playlistleri
vegan deterjanlar
polo şeker
iskandinavya yapımı diziler, filmler
modeselektor, thom yorke - shipwreck
çiçek isimleri
süsenler.

bazı günlerin bazı saatleri, 2

summer solstice
cadılar hakkında okumak
puantiyeli mavi gömlek
güzel giden proje teslimi
düzeltebileceğime inandığım final notu
bad seeds'in deanna şarkısının akustik versiyonu
efil efil giydiğim siyah tulumum
bad seeds'in abattoir blues albümü
bir şeyler yazıyor olmak
mahalledeki iki yavru kedi
komşuların bahçesinden yükselen yasemin kokusu
western filmler
yeni biriyle tanışmanın heyecanı, derin sohbetler etmek
sahiden nuverandi olmak
var olmak
yaz yağmurları
sabah beş serinliği
harry potter ve azkaban tutsağı'nın bütünlüğü
kendinde kaybolmak
çiçekli elbise giyilmişken dans etmek
kırmızı oje
balkabaklı taze börülce yapmak

bazı günlerin bazı saatleri

bitirdiğim contact stress hesapları

ütülenen girls, girls, girls tişörtü

çantaya atılan polo şeker

indirilen şarkılar

dile dolanan mor ve ötesi'nin deli şarkısı

hocanın uzun zaman sonra, bugün, seni iyi gördüğünü söylemesi

lefkoşa'ya yolculuk yapmak

liseyi ilk defa güzel hatırlıyor oluşum

arkadaşlarınla otobüs yolculuğu

grup fotoğrafları

çocukluğundan beri en sevdiğin yaz etkinliklerinden biri olan fuarda stand görevlisi olmak

fuarda yenilen kumpir

fotoğraf çekindiğiniz sırada takım arkadaşının sana sarılması

beraber gülmek

can ile iskoçya'ya gitsek naparız diye düşünmek

fuarda yenilen lokma!

marketten alınan kivi

mutlu bir yazı

disney'in eski şarkıları

süresi devam eden internet paketi

çok sevgi

jigsaw falling into place

You eye each other as you pass
She looks back, you look back
Not just once
Not just twice