Expect the unexpected, follow the lovers lost in this blog.

A blog to cater your mind,body,and soul as you drink Turkish Coffee. We are proud to present our new storyline called Cafe's search for his "Zahir". Everyday is a new day for the "Cafe" (from Istanbul) & his journey for "Zahir" (from Baku). Don't expect extraordinary drama from the narrator, me. Still, this is a drama (maybe real!), and have better impact on you than watching a soap opera. Guaranteed. There is genuine feelings within inspirational periods. Cross your fingers for this story to end with happy marriage :-) All rights are reserved.

EDIT (01 July 2009) - She is engaged with another man, and I finally made my marriage proposal bringing my family to Baku. The result: She stays engaged and will have her wedding, so called "toy", with that another man.

Rest in peace Ms. Zahir.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Karabagh Genocide ??? and my mind...

Yes, indeed. We will discuss this political matter soon.
For now, I shut my mouth. And, share this..As always, the blog is managed by the narrator, and the stories we post are all a result of Cafe and Zahir relation. We will not discuss politics unless it relates to the grapes of wisdom, and the wine of love.
Kissing the inner part of my arm muscle, between the armpit and elbow.
It feels like her cheeks.
Offf and offffff....a middle eastern sigh, offffffffffff and offfffffffff.....

Watched the movie Navajo Joe..The native american man and the woman, like Cafe and Zair. Indeed, Cafe and Zair met in the naive deserts of Navajos, Hopes, and other tribes in the Southern USA.

I may go to the past in a bit, if I can solve my problems with the present. Going to the past times is quite easy. Lying under the sun, or merely watching the stars which are in fact watching us. In fact or indeed, I know one reality is that I do not what she is up to? What Zair is doing while I am shouting to the world why these moments are being lost. These moments are being reflected from deep in my heart to my mind and then ending up in this blog, wishing for shooting stars to chase the dirty, bad, disturbing feelings around her mind which is sending bad, bad, bad signals to her beautiful heart. Her heart is already conquered by mine, just the mind is upset with the past, and as I said, the past can be archieved, and then opened up. Just like Armenian Genocide, Turkish Genocide, and Karabagh Genocide. If the archieves are opened wholeheaertedly, the world will face the real facts, rather than fake facts. I am telling what is right what is wrong. I am solely concerned with my love being discriminated by some eyes. Some eyes are looking passionately, some are blank. Her eyes were always full, and I would prefer to watch the TV, I would prefer to look at her. To date her, forget it, I would just sit next to her and stare at her eyes. I will not bid on any girls for that, but her eyes are like the candle in the sky. I never saw one, but yes, this candle is flying...It keeps moving back and forth.
Now, I am a little bit sick. No, I am not "sick of this situation". I am sick sick. Yes, the weathers are changing, and I cut my hair, so I can move forward quicker. I am coming to Zair. I don't expect any hospitability. Today, I shared this plan with two friends. One of them is the barber, and the other is my doctor. Yes, it is true, I miss you, but I cannot love you Zair, if you hide behind, or deny this passion. I would preserve my love, and believe me it is still fresh, just like Turkish Homemade Jelly (or Jam). No preservatives, nada, nothing, don't worry. As you are concerned about your health, me either. In today's world, living in the city left only one choice, live organic. Don't know how your fruits and vegetables are being offered to you in the market, still have limited access to the ones that you know the quality. I know the quality of this love, but not sure about the expiration date. I would say I will love you until I am gone. I am gone with the wind, but the storm wasn't in the plan. Don't twist me up and down, I am done, let me go, meaning, let me come. Shut the door, leave your life, I mean live your life, of course, I am not, but what am I to you? I am not, but what you are to me? Think about it, fasten your seat belt, because it will be a short trip.