lettres from another time

..... A red pale sprig from "Passiflora incarnata"

The large magnolia flowers with their green leaves were falling behind the window of his small room, a small room with light brown walls, a small room where Mr. George collected memories of his past and recalled the long life he had lived in the past. With his strong memory, he did not forget anything, and the fragrant neroli flowers no longer bothered him with their scent. He had always hated the smell of oranges, but he was slowly getting used to it. The ground outside was full of leaves and flowers, everything falling slowly, like every autumn we had ever seen before. Autumn brought its pale browns and yellows, which were actually not that different from his room; He no longer liked the smell of dirt wet with rain. He had changed a lot after he thought he was at an age where he could not get used to new things. George Miller Hall was an old man of 80 years old, a former soldier on the American military base. After he became old and crippled, he was placed in a nursing home named after the American surgeon Arthur Gillette, based in Florida. He agreed to spend his last days here. While a young 21-year-old employee named Mary Brooks joined the Arthur Gillette Company full-time, George saw her Miller Hall for the first time. It holds everything he wanted to live in, and what he wanted to have all his life. She looked different, young. She carries bigger words than her and him, so he decides to get to know her in his own way and tries to make her fall in love with him in a different way It was just one last emotional journey full of madness and without logic that he decided to take in the last days of his boring life.
But I deleted everything I wrote and tore up a thousand pages after I finished writing it I decided to have something of my own, to write because I was nothing in the big void, in the big field I was a scarecrow, I was an ugly black bird, I was there not because I was everything but because I was not fit for anything, with my unbearable sadness I was surrounded by... Myself and I was nobody, For me to be your present and for her to be your past, Messages from another time because they did not shake this time I carried a time in which I did not live, but it lived within me You once wrote to me that whenever you hold my letters to you, I feel that you are holding my heart. And I joked with you about what you told me That was really my heart Tonight I love you even though yesterday was a harsh autumn. Tonight I love you even though the morning will be lonely and cold. I love you and your little orphan room is mine after you Your small window and your dusty and faded bed are mine, and all your letters are mine. You are mine and your secrets are mine. You are mine with your infinite body and your soul. I love you even if you are not fit to love I love you even if you are just a Kafka bug You are my choice, I am sick of you, I am sick of the tragedy of what you did to me, here I am finally closing my eyes to wake up to your image, to your love and I imagine that you are drowning in my pain in my tears, I imagine that you are apologizing to me again and always because you will remain lost no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try not to hurt me, you will find yourself everything. What you are doing is hurting me You betray me again forever, How delicious it is to stab love before it stabs you Don't try to come in my dreams, take me there, because I am a woman who only lives in the present, and you are a man who only owns his past. I don't like ghosts and you were just a nice ghost. You were not real and I know that none of us are real. We are human beings who always have repressed tendencies and repressed personalities. We can never be real.

And you are a man who once loved with a deep love. This love was so deep that a woman like me could never bear it. And letting me down from you was also heavy. Heavier than what your tears can shake despite all the pain Nothing has changed since you left. It was just that everything suddenly stopped being beautiful, and my radiant days under the rays of that love turned into faded, cold, falling leaves. My days were orphaned by this sudden loss. This was not deception, it was just a moment of realizing life without the magic of love, and I know that on this night I won't be able to sleep either. You used to say that you suffer from insomnia because there are no longer any delicious dreams, but today I also suffer from insomnia because no dreams bring you to me anymore. I also want to stay up late, to imagine you again, to accompany you to those love dates that We talked about it, and I danced the tango with you, and we drank in the morning. Nothing we talked about could have happened, so it was just an imaginary love story that love wrote about us and chose us as heroes. Nothing that was happening between us was real, but we lived it better than living this reality. We were We are also naive to fall in love through messages, messages that decide the happiness and sadness of our hearts as well All things bear witness after you! Was I the one who died or were you? Was I me because I was with you? Was I you because you were only with me? Were the others also others because we were in each other's company? What's important now? Love is dead now, and only lives on your grave and her grave. Was your departure to the other side painful because you left me here on the other side, or was it happy because you were longing for her, because she was there waiting for you on that side?

am your homeland after exile, I carry you with the ugliness of the situation forever, I will not abort my feelings for you even if you are not fit for love. I am loyal to you forever, George. Miller Hall....... And before I finish this book, I decided to write a first and last poem about you I

I was born between dawn here
You were born in another dawn there And the night was far from us All the stars stole my features
And passing clouds covered your features
I want to be back before dawn
And you want to return after dawn But we are both afraid of the night from the darkness that haunts dusk What happened in the moments before our love We're late,
We walked at a slow pace
Or maybe we never came
no one knows
Whoever loves the other
Fear and nightmares
I am the greatest disappointment to myself
I hover around your memory
I wander alone forever
My body trembles before you touch it
And the wine is squeezed from my breasts
Under a slowly dying branch I waited for you
Under a great tree
The month of your death,
Life separator
white color
Everything between us was white And what separates us is a white world
White papers
White napkins
A man who was not afraid of the color of death
And the color of death scares me,
I was born at dawn...
And you left at dawn
White separates us No,
you can return before dawn
And I can't wait until after dawn...

the end