remembering helena

i don’t remember how many times we have met.

some of the most memorable ones were the metro (she accidentaly fell on me-i know, very cheap) the photo-shoots (i was the photographer and no, she wasn’t in a bikini) that coctail party after my first exhibition (yep, i can be both a talented artist and a photographer-god i love me) and of course, that party in my house when i didn’t know the names of half of the guests.

she caught me in the kitchen fixing myself a martini. i couldn’t recognize her at first. she asked me if there were any fashion magazines around. and i said “any? whoowww! you are that big?” she laughed so much, probably thinking i was some kind of a douche trying to make fun of her, while i was actually thinking she was just another starlet trying to make her way to the top.

i said i didn’t own any fashion magazine. she was a bit frustrated. asked me if there was any more beer.

i must admit. i loved her parfume.

she watched me put away the bottle. i offered her a green olive.

wait a minute now, have i seen this video ?


i can still close my eyes today and see how she did the dance with a bottle of beer in one hand, just to make me remember that scene.

i did remember it, of course. and screamed “you are the girl with the terrible nails!”


helena darling, did you finally fix those nails? 10.30. the lobby of pera palas/istanbul. tonight.




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