I am walking around every nook and cranny in empty streets. It is two in the morning. Cats flying over the trash, drunk man from left to right as a very known crossword, ambulance siren to be deathless, few cars passing the life, a really silent song of dark blue with the odd but familiar asphalt scent… Am I afraid of the dark ? Maybe yes, maybe no… It drives me mad to always feel the same feelings that hurt me deeply with far away faces walking miles further… I slowed down the pavements, the scent, the passing. Would I ever consider a plastic surgery if I had a different life, different street to pass away ? Living wills are available here or wherever I am if I have a cup of coffee every day. I just don’t want to answer silly questions, refuse to be questioned or cloned. Do I have the real right to tell what in my mind is, exactly ? I need to tell white lies, I like your red hair, it’s good on you, what a wonderful life, yeah everything is going well, I am fine. Time moves slowly, time moves quickly, passing the real pavements with deep breathing, if all the world were listening to me now, I would say that I needed a reason to talk with all of you, I don’t want to be a super hero, I want to have the right to be as I am exactly. Leaving my soul to an unknown street at night, I am home. White lies are okay. I am happy tonight .

White Lies
Hülya Uçar.