Severe Intentions of Jonathan Grave

Step inside the mind of Jonathan Grave. He was born in a very dull day. Son of an alcoholic father, never felt the hands of his mother. No one can recall anything extraordinary about his presense during his childhood and young adult days.An invisible being breathing amongst people. It will appear to be hard to believe in such a story but indeed some woman tried to sit down at that bus to Birmingham from London which is of course very natural to have a seat but Jonathan was already sitting in that particular seat. He was invisible to the bone. Anyway, everything has changed. The way he was, the appeareance he had, the words he spoke, the path he chose; everything…

The Thursday came in a sunny mood. His window was open and the rays of sunlight woke him up like a lover. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror after a hot shower. The face was neat and sharp. The face was smooth like silk. The face was clever and charming. He gazed, tried to figure out this new guy. The muscles joined the scene. The shoulders and that stomach puzzled his mind. And the uneaten finger nails made him think that his soul was captured by another body. A real misery for an accountant , living zero adventure..

The wardrope was full of elegant and expensive suits. He wore Brioni Vanquish II, looked sharp as a knife in that soft and light tailoring. He put on leather derby brogues by Burberry, the best workhorse shoes. Final comb motion and there he was ready to face the world.

He wanted to take his ordinary watch which his grandad gave him in his sixteenth birthday. It was his custom behaviour to take off the watch and leave it on the kitchen counter. The door of the kitchen was moving back and forth. Creepy feelings covered his body as the dark liquid struck his sight. Tip toe to his kitchen and he found out… It was the watch laying on the floor, bleeding to death violantly. The watch cried his name, called him a murderer. All the time was devoured…


“Oh botherations”, said she with one eye closed as if seeing with two eyes would be  more horrible. The scene was grotesque like the ones in a Fellini film. There was a beef steak in man’s mouth and he was really hungry but his tounge was tied with a thin golden rope so that it would be impossible to eat. All his body was chained to a table. Determined looks in his eyes gave the impression that it was all intentional. Of course somebody must have harmed him with actions or words or whatever but the woman in bewilderment was sure that the man tied up his own tounge for preventing anything to be swallowed by his mouth. The rest of the actions being taken was not an issue for him. They could chain him, beat him or they could even kill him as long as he somehow wouldn’t eat anyting…

She,without any question, unchained the body. He was naked and covered with mud and dried blood all over. She tore up the curtain to clean him. He was like a statue, didn’t even looked like he was in pain. They hugged each other because when she discovered the body, the padlocks of the gigantic building was opened immediately. When the feet were taking the steps to sunshine, they gazed at the butterflies…

All the way up to my Comet

I don’t remember the reason why I’ve started this journey but damn sure I know how I’ve got here. If you go to my room, you’ll see the biggest map of the stars on my long rectangular wooden desk. Lots of sticky colorful notes on it. My way of thinking quickly made the assumptions from all of those calculations as I was wandering in that room. Every square meter gave me another dream of my machine. You can guess how many ideas I developed in 200 square meters, hell right it was a large room!

I can recall the time of euraka, when I was looking through the trapezium window on the ceiling. That window was located exactly at the same location of polar star. You wouldn’t believe me when I’d say I had talked with Genji( polar star’s name, she told me); so I won’t tell you.

The machine I discovered, had needed so many enhancements. Finally I gave the shape of a pyramid to it so that all the little buttons can be reached while I sit at the base. Don’t imagine it as an oblique pyramid, it is a regular one with a regular polygon base. Not colorful though. Do you remember the invisibility cloack of Harry? Then you can imagine it now. It is not perceptible for the living; inside of it is covered with orange lateral faces. My control chair is nothing but orthodox so it is a black leather one. I can’t say all the colors of those buttons but think yourself as a bird flying over the most magnificent flower field of many colors.            

Coordinates 36.9908° N, 35.3266° E

Height 186,5 cm 

Base 230.4 cm 

There you are sharing what I know about the looks of the ultimate machine .
The first move took hours. I got frustrated by the noises coming from the motor engine located between the base and the right lateral face. I regretted not having enough towels to dry my smelly sweat. Once the apex arose from the open trapezium window , I knew there was no coming back… 


  1. Here I am, sitting in my balcony at the third floor of this greyish apartment. The morning weather is as sharp as a knife, I am wearing a beret. Otherwise my migraine could have kept me busy with pain all day long. There are so many martins passing by before my eyes. They all try to eat from that cherry tree that outstreches in front of my neighbours’ garden on the left side of our apartment. I see the wind undoubtfully. It can be held with hand. It feels as if like it is a substance that you can take a piece of it and keep it in your kitchen storage box. 
  2. Now the sun shows herself getting rescued by the wind from all those heavy clouds. Lunch time slowly arrives like a thief trying to enter the house from its secret holes. The balcony doesn’t care at all. Time is not an issue here. No breakfast no lunch no dinner is the essence of life .The construction of a small building is seen on the right side. The workers wear flannels and shorts while I am tightening my black jacket’s belt. They also have a very interesting habit of draping in their flannels up to their chests so their tummies can cool off. I guess they feel the summer is around. But in my biological rythem it is a cruel winter day with a faking sun. 
  3. Smoke is more visible during evening coming out of my mouth. Breathing in nicotine so to let it out. Free will to kill oneself. What an orthodox way to cheat the faith or is it? The balcony doesn’t give a damn once again. It lingers here forever. Whether you are here or not, healthy or not, got kids or not, rich or not. The only thing  under the dark sky in this very balcony is that it exists and you can participate in the freedom and cool breeze it provides.

Plastic Bag of the American Beauty

People are scattered around to world. Sometimes there is no single explanation why they live the way they do. Sometimes there is more than it seems in their behaviours. Helpless and wounded most of the time. Still trying to breathe another day. So many efforts for so unlogical causes and yet there is so much misery unsolved. They tend to believe they are unique but all those books classify them under foreseen categories and indeed the traits all fit each of those types. Sometimes it is better not to think. Sometimes it is just better to be just an aimless soul. Like a plastic bag dancing through the wind , controlled by the wind.