A city on sea. A city by the sea. Two continents blockading the sea. Two cities; face to face argueing, demanding concrete bridges between them to be able to march their troops on. A city resisting, a city with a lost soul inhabited with it`s first generation inhabitants a city with a forgotten past a bygone fortune a missed lyric poem an utopia rotting. Dying aesthetics. Istanbul. Not Constantinople. Shiny skyscrapers rise on the blood of dead workers. New myths on the block.
The old. The old revisted. Reconstructed with autoclaved aerated cement bricks and the wooden frames have been replaced with polyvinyl chloride. Istanbul antique Istanbul baroque Istanbul futurist Istanbul bauhaus Istanbul a memory loss. Demanding Formula 1 grand prix and a tennis grand slam champions league final and fifa world cup and uefa european cup and olympics if not on 2000 then 2004 or 2008 or 2012 just add a number on the plate.
And recharged with chaos, without a plan, istanbul on the go.
Road between the uncoated unpainted kondu apartments to resident-buildings of maslak is longer than the road between the cape canaveral and the ISS thats why some Istanbullus are astronauts and some travel in time, there are ancient gods and aliens and spies of all kind and most possibly Cthulhu is somewhere around.
Lobotomized with cement, trying to find our way back to sea.