• The Dawn of Forgetting

    Midnight. Maybe a little past it, I haven’t checked the time. I forget, I forget so very much. Right now, the only thing that refuses to be forgotten is the stinging smell of formaldehyde piercing my nose. Yes, I’m in a morgue, I’m sure of that much. But nearly everything else I know ends there.…

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  • Some Valuable Lessons to Take

    It is strikingly queer that for the job that I had to put the most amount of physical effort in was also the job that I was making the least amount of money. On top of that, the level of general appreciation was also the absolute lowest. Queer that, another grim jest of the social…

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  • All’s Well That Ends Well

    Finale “Wake up now, morning’s here.” “Ugh… Where am I? If this is a joke—” “Ha! A joke, huh? If there’s a joke in the room, it’s you—and the barrels of slapstick you brought with you.” Judy was just beginning to open her eyes—eyes heavy with a headache that wasn’t from her migraines. She was…

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  • On The Road Pt. 4 The Rest

    Another album, another memory. This one is about the time I heard the first strike. It was unexpected; we never had a good relationship with Signoa in the first place, but no one ever thought of a war. I was working in the Ministry of the Interior at that time, and we had a lot…

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  • Why Are You Like This?

    I try to ignore the deliriums of the Turkish nation as much as possible, but some days, some fucking days, I just can’t bear it any longer. Today is one of those days. As I scroll through the news, I saw a video of a member of the Turkish parliament yell at a woman whose…

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