don't think i am unhappy, happy equinox

Trying to let go

In darkness

With candles

Finding roots

In this new old city

A spoiled child

A woman

A healer

A rich pink anarchist

Who am I ?

That’s why I write tonight

That’s why I listen to my ‘breathe’

In silence

That’s why I whirl tonight

By myself

To reach freedom

To pray for freedom

A prayer to be my essence

A prayer to be

we still manage to shake each other inside, yet we are, our bodies are, different.. we infect each other with inspirations, we only have a couple seconds of full touch. i am afraid we are gonna start making out if we stay in the room longer. thats what makes me nervous. i dont know what to do with it if my body follows her desires. thats why i am quite.. beside all the other things going on. you know like moving.. to another life in another land. a song says its hard to be in love with a gypsy. off, being a gypsy is no easy joke either. being the only gypsy in the family. being still in the fall wind. gliding through the stillness. it is like a joke. it ain't easy to wake up alone with an open gypsy heart. in the middle of a cozy autumn night.

fall intheBay

like the leaf falling down.. the quietness after a catharsis.. catharsis of silent tears, big smiles, and emotional explosions. this is not a good-bye.. goodbye for now. how can i mourn in the middle of a festie? when i lost myself in the fire? in the peaks of hugs and cuddles? while i am feeling every beat in my body? the night turned into 4 in the morning.. the fall came the day after, instead of the summer sun.. in one day.. so many things can change, with the rhythm of nature, with the dance of the moon every night. hiding and opening again.. this new moon is gonna open to the fall.. fall of landing.. the leaves are gonna fall on the earth on the other side of the world.. first on the other coast.. oh the infamous autumn in NY. don't bring me down. from NYtoIstanbul, what to expect? dry leaves on the mama earth.. the same mama earth on every inch of the world. wherever i go, it is my prayer to bring the beauty in me, wherever i go it is my prayer to find the beautiful. in joy, in dark, in dry, in wet. the beauty in the melancholy of the dry orange leaves, and purple morning glories. oh the beauty of the autumn rain, you dont shake my booty like the summer sunshine, but you sure take my soul to the other places. in the places of grief, and the spaces of coziness.. i still feel the tickle in my ear.. from far.. and sometimes in the same room but shy.. oh my gypsy soul witnessing the seasons of transformation, shredding the skin in different continents.. south, north, west to east, i fly.. like a leaf falling down from a tree, and landing in another world. keeping the memories, letting go the unnecessary.. in the land of home. away from home.. i pray to create home wherever i go. and fill it with beautiful men, beautiful women, animals. and find beauty-full ways to express. in the land of love. real love for real. find me wherever i go. goodbye for now.

you make me wanna smoke first thing in the morning. you make my heart feel empty, and i try to fill it with coffee and smoke.. the snychronicities between us.. you are unable to see. after months of not seeing you, moving to another city from the same neighborhood, after burying your necklace in MachuPicchu and burning your name in the temple, i ran into u in the middle of nowhere before the full moon, exactly a year after i ran into u, and you shake everything inside of me again.. and again.. i am in the same desperate place for a little bit.. i know my heart cannot afford to stay there for a longer time.. i know i take care of my heart now, much better than last year.. so i leave.. with a bitter taste in my heart. i have been to the dark places of loving you and i know i don't wanna lost myself again in those lonely places. i know you don't want to meet me there. we will never know probably, how it would be to meet at the heart of fearless love. i had a taste of most delicious pain. i know this time i am not gonna follow the signs that are gonna take me to the dead end. been there. be blessed. good bye.

a week in the dessert
in the middle of emptiness
without facebook, or electronical connections
telepathize with me

universe city

a new expressive arts modality
embracing and kissing makes you happy
tested on humans and animals
proven with pictures
universe city of real life, streets, mountains, and synchronicities.
learning on the stage, the reflection of our beautiful intention
to heal together with laughter
in the dance of presence
with our organic connection
familiar like a thousand year
passionate like a love at first sight
like puzzle pieces, our souls find each other
in the land of llamas and all the beautiful things
in the magic of crowded streets, and starless night
we see the moon,
she is full
she is fool
she is bewdy-full
like us
like our open eyes that look at the sky
like our beautiful feet on earth
like our invisible wings that takes us to sky
like the rain drops from the sky
like a rainbow or a silver star
like our beautiful bodies reflected in each other's eye,
our open eyes can feel the love.

my phone is back as the mercury goes direct
thank you Creator
please continue to save our souls and bodies from disasters.
back yard returns my phone.
arlo is still away. showing himself for a couple of minutes.
every now and then.
time to be on the move.
i am welcomed to another rites of passage.
with sun flowers, big orange butterflies, and humming birds..
thank you Creator,
creating all of these.
may my path crosses with them more often.

a love, out of my comfort zone, feels very comfortable.
in geographic impossibilities, my gypsy soul finds itself.
i don't know what to dream.
my desires do not meet on the same time zones.
how two paths crossed in the lands of dream
can feel so real.
without touching.
without waking up to sleep talks, and sleep moves..

so many pages in different books.
chapters of the life.
)*( is a serious businezzz
rites of passage is what it iz
thank you helping me to realize my bliss.
opening my way to follow it,
crossing my path with beautiful beings,
connecting me to the spirits.
i am aware of the dark.
i feel the spirit of the forrest they are cutting down. the pain of every tree.
my tears are not coming easily lately, like a river getting bigger inside of my heart.
it is gonna float. like the spring. it is spring somewhere around the world.

Dear Diary,

Dear Diary,
I was in Peru. I have felt the Mother Earth inside my every organ. i have felt the moon, the stars. despite crowded noisy streets of big cities. i am the queen of synchroni'cities. queen of infinite diamonds. Hello Diary, my name is Cosmic Gypsy.
Dear Diary,
I fell in love with Peru and I fell in love in Peru. The details are not your business dear online diary. i have written for years. now i write my diary online, and the magic is in the details, for those who are able to see the hidden connections of hundreds years old souls. our beautiful souls, our beautiful faces, our beautiful bodies. Silver toes, silver fingers, silver stars, gold star nipple. dear diary, i know how to love. he has an 'open' relationship and an 'open heart'. he lives hundreds of miles away. he is happy with his tribe. dear diary, he has a beautiful heart and beautiful eyes. with some tears on those eyes, he looks at me, i feel loved. i feel his joy. i feel his juiciness. i feel his sadness, i feel his tears. goodbye hugs, goodbye tears. grieving with a smile. of love. in love. my heart is timeless. and spaceless. oh my gypsy heart. i release you to the hands of the universe. i flow. i receive. i dance like a fool. i dance, I'm full. watching my unknown adventure. from my attic room. Dear Diary, this the story of a Cosmic Gypsy.
Sincerely,
Ezgi

llamas, betty boop and magic

magic
come home
2 in the morning
after a tour of the city of san francisco and oakland
with the moon following. orange and close to the ocean.
i have never made love in this house.
i have been speechless
spiders
weave our dreams.
my heart
              already is open.
can turn into poems
(or into a dance)
it can turn into quite days of grief.
it can turn into tears.
it can turn into touch.
from timeless space to 'to do list'
for another timeless space with unknown character.
Every moment is new
La Mariposa
asymmetrical
faces
in polarities.
the ecstasy of joy.
the tears of loneliness.
we are lost in this space
alone in the end. but we know we are 1.
a feather
a gift from the sky
for my open eyes
heart beats! what are u trying to say?
earthquake! u're shaking me inside.
with fear.
that's how two human bodies react. when they meet hundreds of years later in mother earth.
with a woman. with a man. with an android creation of a butterfly.
i memorized your smell.
I was mesmerized.
irresistible perfumes don't go well with my
bare skin.
i sweat. wet.
dreams
weave
our silly and wise
imagination.
i sit still.
after a few rollies.
with my empty stomach. i welcome the medicine.
rainbow wings.
feeling conscious about my soul's intensity.
a welcoming journey. unknown. known for thousands of years.
i am a babe.
i'm old.
look i'm a little girl.
i am a snake.
butterfly or a spider.
explosion of animal totems.
dragonfly connections
eagle intentions. or the grace of the swan. with my libra moon. 113303311.
i transform
into another form.
here is good. çok şükür.

be4 peru, after a holotropic journey of hundreds years old, we had a music festival in our backyard.

i am in love with all of my roommates and some of my neighbors. the organic realness of manifestation. making 'things' happen. silent participation, loud expressions and all the way of 'beings' in between. I see . I am seen. with my pure awareness. with my open heart. art is on the stage. the rawness. some hearts bleed. some hearts heal. some hearts beat faster. some hearts need time to beat again faster... we love with our fucking heart. fuck fuck fuck love love love and all the actions in between. sometimes not ready to fuck. sometimes too afraid to love.

home hella sweet home

Gracias Panchamama, La Kia, El Sol, Amor, Aire, Agua, Tierra, Fuego.. muchas gracias. i know you are everywhere. wherever i go, i feel your presence and protection. sunflowers welcome me. home hella sweet home. Bonita Dias, Bonita Noches. Gracias.

c.a.m.p. fruit salad with blackberries

time to be heard
with blue colors
i felt seen like no other time before
i felt sad 
i felt joy
            amywinehouse died
            we can still have our souls
we love to go to the 'other' places
                                 in the forest
dancing, singing
with intensity and passion
like grieving for love
black souls we got 
shines at black light
black light is purple
we have got broken hearts
but we still remember how to make out with eyes
we show our souls
with the voice 
and the words.
and the body.
in in-tag(r)nation
my soul is old enough
but i can be young as a babe
little forrest fairy asked me
'you are not a little girl, are you? well, you look like one'
i am about to be born from words of patience
i feel so alive, i feel her pain
i feel her pain for real.
i saw her pain so deeply
in broken nights.
i saw it like an owl. 
i saw it in my soul.
i have been in love.
i have been hurt (from love)
i have been healed (by love)
i have been waiting (for love)
love
me
for
who
i 
am.
because
i am for real.
i have been a gypsy bird.
i have sang when no one is around.
i have heard your words .
i have been there darling.
i have been lost in the forest
i have been lost on the streets of different cities in the world.
i have found my way except for the times i get lost.
amy could not find her way this time. 
this is a lot of drugs to take into your little body. your skinny tattooed bones.amy. 
your vulnerable shining soul. runs away from the stage lights. looking underneath of your skin. not looking ahead.  
we live in other's words.
forgive them for not being able to see the deepness of your silence. the scream of the meanings of your songs.
not everyone can see with bare eyes.
bare foot we touch the earth.
we can touch the sky
with the wings of raven feathers.
we dive into the river.
with/without our underwear.
life is perfect as it is. even more with coconut water. for the days that start with some whisky in the morning coffee.
we live till the end.
we die hundred times.
we dance with fire.
we dance in water.
we dance bare foot.
we dance to the music.
we dance to the present.
we dance for the stars.
we dance with passion.
we dance in the fog.
we dance till we sweat.
we dance alone.
we dance with strangers we know.
we dance eyes closed.
we dance to be.
we dance, we sing.
we dance to the beat.
we dance till we are no longer here.
we go there together.
as we get together, we become one.
we go back home.
we go together.
we bring back the wild in us.
for the sake of the night.
i slept alone.
in the same tent with another.
i become 'who'
time means nothing.
we do what we love.
we love whom we do it with.
we love in a forest we love
time is forever when we love.

after a holotropic journey, osho whispers the card of the day online; 'contemplation'.
the issue he says past lives. how many lives has seen this soul? 'awareness' he says ironically, is the internal influence you are unable to see. 'No'thingness' i am able to see. the 'transformation' creates the kindle of 'creativity'.  

life is such a blissful trip lately, next stop is istanbul, constantinople.. after a weekend of holotropic journey, i am going home, flying hours and hours.. trying to reach my roots in my other home, my chosen home.. i touch people's lives, sometimes gently, sometimes very subtle, sometimes warmly, sometimes like an electricity, always sincerely.. i write unwritten stories. i become queen of syncroni'cities. i fall in love with 12 different people.. yet, i sleep by myself. mostly. for the sake of understanding myself. shiva calls me. very quitely. washes away my tears, washes away my pain.. our tears, our pain.. cleaning the psyche, inviting a new journey. in the lands where i first started to breathe. at this life time.. i pack last minute. home becomes an unknown journey.. çok şükür.

i was happily found on the street (or i was found happily). they call me bal.

whereever i go, a black cat follows me. a different one every time. this one meets with my leopard, bal. nice to meet you arlo.

in every me..

by exploring the rebellious persephone inside me, giving a chance to express (shy) aphrodite part of myself, i touch my femininity. my wild side getting unleashed. after years of prison inside my head. i have had all the reasons to be afraid, all the memories not to be forgotten. now i am finding a way to flow. with the movement, with a prayer, through a gesture. thank you for touching me so real. thank you for touching me without tearing my heart apart. thank you for the gaze. i acknowledge the parts of me. the goddesses are real. like butterflies and monkeys. ravens told me. 

the very first one..

first posts are special, like the first impressions of our beings. i am starting to 'show' myself,  by sharing my piscean world, with or without fear. i feel ready to be 'read', i feel ready to be 'seen'. it needs persistence.. and the flow. it is the full moon in scorpio, 'the death' and 'the rebirth'. beginnings are important, like our very first being in this virtual world. beginnings contain ending of the past. goodbye and hello.