andromeda

i am being taken into custody in a joint operation run by a very high-quality intelligence agency and a secret space agency. when i step outside, the place is full of fbi cars. i say to myself, i can't even outrun a single yunus, look at the organization they’ve put together for me. they are all guys in glasses with coiled earpieces, but they don't look american at all. not because they aren't american, but because having the front of our house as the background makes it completely unconvincing. they push away the people asking questions, saying "we can't talk about an ongoing investigation." the neighborhood locals immediately label me a pkk member on the spot and sell me out. i yell back, "am i the one releasing apo, you assholes?!" while i am reprimanding the agents in english for entering the house with their shoes on they put me into a renault kangoo. meanwhile the others are getting into chevrolet suvs. i say to the driver, "bro please i want to ride in one of those?" the driver ignores me, and when i say it in english, he says, "no fucking way." because he used the word "fuck" in his sentence, i feel insulted and give him a masculine silent treatment for the entire ride. 

they had belsa plaza shut down and set up a temporary command center. bless them, they feed me a mixed toast. but the guy still skimps on the ingredients. intelligence agencies from all over the world have come to belsa, it's like an april 23rd children's day festival, they’ve confiscated belsa, yet the guy is still skimping on the ingredients in the toast. they take me to kırmızı net, which they have designated as the interrogation room. a police commissioner named i̇mdat offers me his salted peanuts and explains that his wife made them at home to help him quit smoking, and that -as if the salted peanut corporations are spreading propaganda that it's impossible- 'contrary to popular belief'one can actually make them at home, detailing how. he gets bored of me, stares at the wolf team posters on the wall, and hums ahmet aslan songs. suddenly, he slams the spaceship key onto the table and says, "are you ready for this mission?" i ask, "which mission?" and continue eating my salted peanuts. 

so apparently, the world might get destroyed or something and people might become even more stupid than they currently are in the post-apolitical era, so they needed someone who could be protected from a potential extinction and become the pasha of the place when he returns. for this, according to what i wrote on google keep, the cia looked for the most suitable person and that it is me. they say they picked me because of my poems. i always talked about going to andromeda. he then makes fun of the sentences in my poems. he says, "i tried to understand the cows stealing grass from my plain," laughs, and embarrasses me. but i tell myself maybe he's not mocking me with malicious intent and i force a smile. 

"you'll be back in a thousand or two thousand years," he says. the spaceship travels at the speed of light, but when it passes through places with high gravity, "something happens..?" he looks at me. he asks me. i say, "commissioner i̇mdat, it's not that important, use your imagination, i'll make something up later." "it is going to feel like one... or two million years to you. and they have a cream for your body they were going to give you, for aging." 

the ship supposedly had all the books, movies and songs from every language and i could read them if i got bored. "maybe you'll understand humanity" he says. "besides, god doesn't bless idle hands." but i’ll probably just watch kuzey güney or something and not even notice books and shit for the first five hundred thousand years. "do you have a driver's license?" he asks. i say no. "well, just watch me for a lap or two, it's automatic transmission anyway" he says. i ask for permission, saying "before we do that, let me get a drop." i do a mission in cs2. the scientists are explaining scientific things while i play deathmatch, but i don't listen to a single word. when i die in the game, i say "huh?" and make them explain it from the beginning. then we get up and go to cengiz topel. we take a lap or two, then he says "here, you drive" "it's automatic transmission anyway." 

i say my goodbyes to i̇mdat, entrust my cs account to an fbi agent so he can farm drops until i get back. then i turn the ignition, tap the horn with "take care!" intent, but because i hit the horn while traveling at the speed of light, i deafen every living creature on earth. humanity unites and swears an oath to beat me up when i return, except for the buddhists. 

i buckle my seatbelt and after doing the getting-ready-for-a-new-road-trip-stretch-and-groan-"ahh". i think to myself: best-case scenario, i come back to earth in the year 3000 to a world where humanity has come to its senses. worst-case scenario, everyone becomes a post-apocalyptic villager, they listen to me and they come to their senses. same desired result. but i stress out a lot when i try to explain things to people. when i get a sudden question while i'm nervous, i say 'yes' or 'no' without thinking. but because i don't want to lie, i later say, "no, actually it's not like that" and i lose the little credibility i had. 

once i leave the milky way, the road gets bumpy. "am i going to an alevi village?" i joke to myself. apparently, there is dark matter between galaxies. and what they call dark matter was actually the higgs boson, and dark energy was the gravity of the boson. the ship shakes as if entering a dirt road; when i can no longer hold the steering wheel, i turn off the ignition and let the ship coast downhill. millions of years pass. read all the books; learn all the languages, finish arka sokaklar from start to finish... it only gets you so far. a person gets very bored alone. but then again, it was exactly the same when i wasn't traveling to andromeda in a spaceship. while watching messier 42 and smoking a cigarette, i finally understand why the cia chose me.