Trust

Trust, a good portion of many individuals and societies', advertising companies' favorite word to use across the globe.

In our insignificant and fleeting existences we seek trust, security and comfort all over our lives, just to really, exist. When we can't find a single person to trust, we despair and cling onto life through somewhat dangerous means, moving from one state to another often, even changing countries to search for a home we finally will feel like we belong in. We associate homes usually with the place we're born in, and the parents that has been instrumental in bringing us to life. But what happens when you don't trust both or one of your parents? What happens when you cannot connect due to insecurity and the unwelcoming attitudes? How do you build your trust? How do you find your home?

The idea of Bedouin is often exciting and exotic--in many cases it is. Marching along the marginals of society and tracing the map of the world with your own feet, meeting all of these new people who has the potential to be your pillar in this world, a home and solace they could offer you, seeing all the beauties this world has to offer to any mortal. Adventurous.

It also makes you agitated, vulnerable and abandoned in the world to fare on your own. After all nothing teaches you fend for yourself like mother nature and existing on the fringes of society who are a lot less willing to understand, accept and help you than to outright punish and ridicule you, helping to destroy you even. Unconsciously and eventually this is the reason why I have come to view man the way I view many of them. This is the reason why marriages partially scare me. I can always count on myself, though counting on someone else is rather a dire emergency thing that leaves me with gaping wounds and heart cramps.

At the end I've always had serious trust issues. Exception of my mother and a few other exceptional people in my life, I still find myself lacking in the department of trust. As sad as that is. However, my only difference is that I trust myself and all of these past battles for this particular victory have led me to believe in my mother unconditionally and trust in her that she will take care of me, when I most needed, even when I don't need it. I've begun to trust myself enough to take care of myself and that no matter where I go, I trust that I will create a happy, warm and loving home for myself. I place I can come back home to, a place that can be my sanctuary and my sacred grove where my wounds of the day can heal.

Altan

Though I am not of Celtic descent in any means or ways, I do love the Celtic culture, which includes their music. Though there are endless band names to list there, the latest one I seem to be obsessed with is "Altan". Everything about them screams Celtic to me. I seem to have developed this habit unconsciously that while I am writing on here, I seem to be listening to Altan, for the previous 15 entries or so (possibly more). I just realized this while I had intentions to write about something else. Well I guess what will have to be discussed some other time.

So, if you're looking for something in Gaelic, with the famous tunes of Celtic culture, Altan is something that you must absolutely give a try to.

Backgrounds

I used to wonder the point of desktop background pictures for the sole fact if you're doing something on your computer, you don't actually get to see what's on your background--unless you want to work in small windows (most of us don't). If you're surfing the web, shopping, looking at pictures, researching, writing a paper or watching a movie you're not looking at your background picture. It's really only useful if you're only listening to music, which you're probably doing something else as you're listening to music, like reading, dishes, dusting, folding clothes, reading or doing homework. So when does a background really come in handy? Well, basically when you're just turning your computer on and as you're shutting it down. Perhaps, if you're just staring at it due to some inspirational picture you may have on there. It's good to show off your interest in a simple way as a background picture usually says much about our characters. Other than that, really not much.

Currently, I have a picture from an old manga/anime. It's in color, it's on the moon with Usagi Tsukino, Sailor Venus and Tuxedo Mask. It feels like staring into abyss, because the background is tense, hefty and black. It feels like I really am out in space somewhere, floating in my thoughts. It takes me into a chaos that's been there much of my life and for a good portion of my life, I've been both desiring and at the same time trying to run away from it. As wonderful as chaos could be, it leads to disasters in my life, where I lose myself in the moment and the unhappiness rolls in waves.

Such as this picture. It's in admiration and as a reminder to myself, of what I have to do daily in order to such big chaos where I would lose everything I have worked for.

Lights On

The first night I had to sleep in my own apartment was a surreal night. It was a Deja-vu, a flash back, a repeat of three years ago.

Despite being exhausted, disappointed, I found myself disillusioned, I as I crawled into my what felt like a makeshift bed, a hot wave of past rolled over this past Monday; just like three years ago. When I closed my eyes, I couldn't tell the point in time we were, it could have been 2009, or it could have been 2012 for all I knew. My emotions were exactly the same in both points in time. Everything I had come to believe had been shattered, just like that night three years ago. For a moment there, I had just found myself alone, lonelier than I had ever been. So, lonely, I had become, lonely I had been. So, there I was, I had to face a new truth and learn to brave myself. Fortunately for me, this time around, I woke up early, with a brave face and decided to challenge my own toils and face them head on, as much as I could, with my own capabilities. That's right, it felt like my very first night in my own apartment in Madison. The first time I truly ventured out on my own and had to learn to live by myself. A big feat for me, even today I love to think to myself that was something I had established and accomplished.

Three years ago, I faced the biggest disappointment of my life. With a single touch my heart was shattered into billion pieces. Now that aside, the wounds have healed and it's just a part of my past, like all other days of my past, precisely because it has made me the person I have become today. I am stronger because of it.

Last Monday, I met yet another heart breaking disappointment that was enchanted with so many illusions, beliefs. Disillusionment are difficult and tough to swallow. Regardless though, they toughen your skin each time and you learn to be an adult. Yes, disillusions are part of rites of passages into adulthood, without them our transitions from teenagers into adults would not be complete.  We believe in changes as we should. Only if people truly changed as much as they had thought or wanted to make others believe in it.

It felt like the small walls of my insignificant apartment walls caved in, crumbled under the pressure as I was a loss in darkness. Just like then, I had just finished cleaning, my eyes were bright red and swollen from crying and with an ache that had no balm at the moment. This time was different though. This time, I was missing my mom tremendously. So tremendously that, I had to leave my lights on. I felt like I would get loss and never wake up on my own bed again if I turned off the lights. Me, who wouldn't even let my her parents leave the lights on when she was a kid, I had to leave the lights on, just like that night three years ago. My dingy little lamp became my light of hope, as my mother was. It allowed me to go back to sleep once more. Though, at this point I was too scared to turn off the light that I wouldn't let it dare to cross my mind.

No matter how old we get, sometimes all we need are the lights in our lives to hold our hands tightly in more than the physical world.

Getting Lost

How much my body has missed walking. How good it does my soul. I've always known it did my soul well, just never really knew the depths walking reached. The scenery is always like a picture from a fairy tale, in it so many new things my eyes spy, so many new chains and binds my soul breaks and in it I find the inspiration for my poetry and my stories.

I've gotten lost, hopelessly today. Here I thought, I was a good reincarnation of Columbus to have find my way through anything, even that big Atlantic ocean. Well, turns out there are even side streets in my neighborhood that I don't know about, especially to the Secret Gardens it leads me to. After getting lost for about 3 hours and finding my way back, which took me another 2 hours to get back home, all in all, six hour walk did me well...perhaps not to my legs and feet, but to my soul. I needed to go out once again to rediscover my soul after such a time in Rochester. My spirit needed to be out and let it be nourished in the greens of Wisconsin. As tired as I am while writing this journal, I am happy and I feel as light as whipped cream. I feel as though I could still continue on to walking and find another version of myself somewhere in the greener streets of Madison.

More walking to ensue...

Turkish Night

This passed Sunday was the Turkish Night sponsored by MATS.
I guess there couldn't have been anything better to renounce all of the past, unhappiness and with a renewed dedication embrace life. I'll come to remember it as a clear turning point in my lifetime in the years to come.

Good things has happened and I have a feeling that good things will happen here after. I've realized that for the first time in a long time that things will be alright. I have been given this second chance, which excites me entirely on it's own. So, all things that start well, end well theory. The night ended splendidly and well, though I am still trying to recover, things have been slacking on other ends, but I feel well and I have this incomparable and incomprehensible motivation, optimism and determination. So, world, here I come :)

Madison

It feels weird to be in my own home, sleeping on my own bed, having my own mini kitchen and being in charge of my entire day again. It's reminiscent of why I wanted to move out in the first place again. Did I mention I loved living on my own despite it's ugly face and the difficulties, like if something got in your eye, there is no one there to blow it away for you. I have my own library back again, my own kitchen. My bathroom and things stay where I want them, with no intrusion. Small things that adds up to an insane or a happy life.  There was so much intrusion in Rochester...too much, that I can hardly tell how I functioned and it also explains all of the things that never got done. In Madison, I can suffer or smile in my own silence, my own space and in my own misery or happiness. I always did prefer to be alone, but not lonely.

Madison though seems as welcoming as it always has been. I missed the lively streets of University Ave. Monroe st. and well, who can not name Langdon and State streets? I missed the strange cafes with boldly painted walls, decorated with local artists' works, filled with students doing their assignments. The nooks and crooks that makes you feel at home and the live music at some point or another. The bikers, the runners, the nature nuts and it's strange festivals, never ending marathons and new events week after week. Madison I've missed you more than I am capable of describing. Only if you had engulfed my mother in you as you have engulfed me. If only my mother was here. I think I could have reached my nirvana here, for eternity.

As strange as this sounds, I've always felt more at home in Wisconsin than I have ever anywhere else. My adaptation was not a smooth process due to a bad influential person in my life at the time, who wouldn't let me settle down in my own way. Well, we can say, he's long gone by now. I am left to myself and I am settling in to my own heart's desire. Happiness has found me in Wisconsin despite to all of my life's downs. Downs pretty much make-up my life in it's entirety. However, I have found the ability to let go, grow up and be an adult here. Through the leaves, the sky that's always blue and far away, the lakes that always reminds me of Istanbul...I have found myself and happiness here. I can be at peace here, I am calm, quiet and most importantly I can be who I want to be here, with no judgment, no one to alter my behavior and words for. I can face myself. Whether it be my mistakes, my regrets or hopes and dreams. I can bravely face them much to my own surprise. I can say well this is what I did and this is how I will go about to amend, change and alter myself from now on. This is how I will react to myself to become someone better in every way I deem significant and a must.

What's different? To be blunt here, I am not so worked up like I am in Rochester-- Rochester feels like an oppressive tyrant that confiscates all of my colors and leaves me barren but with heavy metal armor that I have to keep wearing bitterly, against my will, putting on this show in order to protect myself. Everyday feels like a battle ground and months and years just dread on. Like a bad religious cult, it strips me down, leaves me naked, judges, persecutes, takes everything from me, leaving me without the necessary nourishment I need to survive, grow and become the person I have the potential to become. It stifles me out of my own future, leaving me bitter and angry, unaccomplished and miserable for all the things I didn't get to do. For all the people who has never understood me and will never understand me--Despite being surrounded by family and friends, my loneliness is indescribable in Rochester. I don't have to fight for my soul in Madison--instead I can nurture it and give it the room it needs to expand and find all of it's colors, feathers and the houses it wants to reside in, making itself one huge home that nests in it firstly with a warm embrace, than comfortably and happily.

I can be any shape, any color, any texture I want, in any way I would like to be. My heart is instantly lighter and my shoulders are not instantly aching in order to be prepared for an invading assault on my personhood. Madison, gives me a reason to smile and allows me to branch out, experiment and find myself in all of it's odds, ends and unlikely possibilities combined in the ordinary possibilities that packages itself in a unique but efficient package in my doorstep to find and explore again and again. The amount of growing up I have done in Wisconsin is tremendous.

Thank you Madison! I know I might not have come here with all of the right reasons, however I am glad whatever wind brought me here. I have found you and in you I have found myself. This is something no one else will ever or could give me. For that, I am indebted and will always be indebted to you.
Thank you!

Train Rides

I used to love trains and train rides. It was always an enchanting experience to ride the train. All kinds of Turkish writers, poets and even dramatists would use the train as a setting or a symbol to explore the depths of human emotions and imagination. Some of my favorite stories such as Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants" are set in trains and or train stations.

I wish I could have continued to culminate such love for trains. I hadn't taken the train to anywhere in United States before I made my move to Wisconsin. Well, that was such a huge experience and probably one of the most difficult days of my life. Ever since then I've had the chance to take the train often hauling one thing or the other from Madison to Rochester. While it was quite enjoyable the first few times (despite it's difficulties), I found quite a few muses in trains to inspire me to write a few stories, at least enough to make a collection out of it, I am sure. Unfortunately, our mutually exclusive and loving relationship has been demanding and waned over the years. Taking the train has become a chore and an unwanted thing for me. It's long, enduring, uncomfortable and the attendants, never understanding or caring. They literally just do what they want to do. They don't care about customer satisfaction. Customer service isn't one of their qualities. It's their cheap price, explaining exactly why I continue to and will continue to take the train. Oh and the limitless number of stuff my mother buys me that de facto disables me from taking the plane.

Train rides now leave me exhausted, desperate and tries my patience. Keeps me all night and leaves me sleepless in the morning, in which I must endure through the second part of my traveling, becoming quite inefficient and a hassle.

I dream of the day where I no longer have to take train to go back to Rochester to visit family and friends.

Small Apartments

I've always been fond of small apartments that had a rustic feeling and were, completely mine. Traces of my soul could be find everywhere, from the doormat to the bedding, to the pictures on the walls, from the frames and everything else that litters a tiny apartment.

For the past three years of my life, I've lived in a tiny apartment (an efficiency) and still do. The overabundant theme of my apartment is book. There are books everywhere in my apartment. I do mean, everywhere. Coffee table, the only table, wall mounted shelves, a large book case I bought and the bookshelf that came in with the apartment. Recently though, it feels like my apartment has gotten smaller, much smaller. It feels crowding, sometimes even suffocating and there just isn't enough room.

I'd like to brag about myself of not being so materialistic and a collector of material objects. But it seems that no matter what some sort of materialistic collection will culminate in your apartment if you let yourself settle down and decide to live, not as a nomad anymore. You know, the idea of having things under your hand whenever you reach for them. So, space has been cramped and I have been finding myself frustrated over the lack of space.

Regardless, I have no intention of moving out anytime soon. I just love my tiny, cramped apartment too much. Though the neighbors are not great. It's my first place, maybe that's why I am so reluctant to let go. NO matter what, nothing beats the charms of a small apartments that always feels cozy and warm.

Fatmagulun Sucu Ne Turku

This is pretty much all I have to say on this entry. I'll let the music talk about it itself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-SS9eHLFhU

Mr.Gnome

I can't quite recall how I got to know Mr.Gnome at all. They're an indie rock band if you don't know. Okay well, here is there information.

https://www.facebook.com/mrgnomemusic/info

They're pretty great. The lead singers is a kick ass girl. Not that I know particularly anything about music. Mine is just what everyone else says. I listen to what sounds good to me. I've always wanted to be have a great ear for music, but alas, I have no ear for music other than what makes me feel when I listen to it. Pretty simple and pretty tactless. Therefore, I am no expert, no critic and definitely not a reliable source to listen to.
But, I promise you, if you give them a listen, a chance you won't stop listening to them. You'll find how wonderful they are and their lyrics. Check them out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96odjxtxrXo

Schizophrenic

I am feeling quite schizophrenic today. I have been working on several short-stories simultaneously. It has gotten a little crowded upstairs and I have been acting out of character for myself, instead opting out to act as my own protagonists in the stories I have written, writing or plan on writing. Happens right? It's a little hard at times. You spend so much time, thinking about these characters, doing everything you can to separate them from the person that you are. But developing these people from, well, scratch, out of not of nothing, yet giving them everything the reader needs to understand the character, which goes beyond what is just written on the pages of the story. Things like quirks, mentalities, faith, personality, habits, heart breaks, beliefs are just a few to name. Looking at life from the character that is born out of you, from the figments of your imagination, trying to establish her, him as solidly as possibly, figuring out what that person will be saying in what kind of conversations, what kind of actions they'll take in certain kind of events and the decisions that person will be prone to making. Considering all that, it's kind of well, normal with this rationale.
This is not to say I don't like assuming different names and personalities is not a trait of mine.

Definitely the Wrong Choice

Okay, wearing black jeans today, with black boots was the wrong choice. The weather looked cold from my window in the morning and when I checked the forecast from my phone, it was also brrr cold. But sitting here, at the library, I am burnt to a crisp with my black jeans and black boots. Help! Definitely the wrong choice.

Appreciation

Such a simple word that must eventually go through our minds at different points in our days and our lives. We expect others to appreciate us for the things that we do and sacrifice and in turn many of us appreciate others. But, how do we really do it, if we do it at all matters immensely. Sometimes what we expect as a thanks differs from those of others. While we expect others to thank us in the way we would like to be, meeting our expectations we often forget about others' expectations of our gratitude and how we should show them. Problems arise and people often get hurt over things that should truly bond us to each other.

Sometimes we think the world of our gestures, actions and words. As a result we think we ended up accomplishing something so great and so valuable that no matter what the recipient will do, just cannot repay it in words or in any other way. However, in some of those times, our acts cannot be repaid so simply or at all-- that is honestly the truth. Some of those times we do such grand gestures and give up such fundamental principles of our beings that no matter what, it cannot be paid. We must truly be appreciative of such heroic and brave acts and show our gratitude in more than just words such as "thank you". 

Of course this isn't always the case. Actually, that's not even the case most of the time. Usually the gestures we think that are so grand, aren't as grand as we originally thought so, and usually a thank-you card can suffice. Such common etiquette shows us the right path to follow. Often, a warm smile followed by a heart-felt sincere "thank you" suffices our debt.

At least we'd like to think so. Life though as simple as it may be is often complicated by our own rational decisions and emotional take within those decisions and actions. It's easier to appreciate the small gestures that strangers do for us, like opening the door to an elderly couple, giving your line in the grocery store to a pregnant lady, when driving leaving enough space for another car to drive out of a gas station. How about the sacrifices we make and are made for our sakes? How do we and how should we appreciate them?

I'll be the first one to argue of the difficulties people living together will have. I have been living on my own for three years now (I love it!) and will always fiercely advocate the advantages of living alone, by yourself. I am one of those passionately alone souls (never lonely though). Living with someone else just doesn't quite work out for me. When married and in a family, living together causes too much stress. We often don't appreciate and cannot fully show, nor do we incline to show such gratitude in our hectic lives, where we are often too focused on what we have been giving up and will continue to give up from our lives, selves and youth. Then, the tension culminates from there on out.

I'll give an example, most of us, men or women, married or unmarried has to work to get by in this world (unless by some divine luck you have been born lucky enough to not have to work due to immense family fortune; even then, you would have to work in order to deserve or continue to keep such fortune) and we are often stressed by our eight our work days that usually ends up longer than that. When we come home, putting away the dishes may always fall on the other spouse. We might not think much of it but even things like that needs a show of appreciation, because after a while it ends up becoming a weight that will eventually be in need of dropping. One suppose might have to do all the driving, dropping, picking up the other to lower their living costs. While we expect that particular spouse to drop us off at the exact time and pick us up at the said time, whenever they're late we throw tantrums and create storms. In our own lateness though, we just expect her or him to accept it with a smile. I know of a couple where both the wife and the husband works all day long, until the wee hours of the night, literally till nine or ten o'clock. However, the husband comes home and it's clock out for him. He expects the dinner to be prepared set on the table for him and he won't even wipe the table down. He'll sit there for the rest of the night, on the floor in front of the T.V. sipping down his beer, without even caring about anything else she might need help with around the house. When he eats, he'll peel off the onions and leave the those parts on the counter as it is. His beer glass and bottle will just collect on the floor where he sits. Any thing he uses in the kitchen, instead of putting it in the dish-washer, ends up on the counter. He won't touch anything, waiting for her to clean it up and later will complain about the door bell she rings because her hands are full with the grocery bags. He'll scream, do I have to open the door to you. I haven't seen this much laziness. He is not the one who mows the lawn, shovels the snow away, or gets the cars to maintenance. While I am aware that this is an extreme case, no matter how much this is taken from real life it lies on one radical end of the spectrum.

How do you show your appreciation and gratitude to the person you live with, the person you're supposed to walk with hand-in-hand in life, embracing the storms of life? It doesn't just happen by helping cleaning up and paying the bills unfortunately, although that does help some, better than nothing at all. But the gratitude we end up showing, do they meet our own expectations and those of the one that is helping us? If not, should we just damn them to hell, or bend down to their expectations?

Monday

I swear, this will be my last blog entry like this--at least for a long while.
The weekend needless to say was busy and although I accomplished much, I was not able to actually catch up at all with any of my readings/writings and etc. I am quite disappointed and it makes me feel bad, almost effectively canceling out all the good I was able to accomplish.

I know, you're saying the whole weekend, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Honestly though, I just don't know where the minutes slipped out to, where hours flew to. I remember opening and closing my eyes, oh yeah and running around like a crazy person, from one place to another, trying to squeeze in one more thing before the day ran out, before the sun set and I was left with my serious, thought as not serious as can be woes. 

And as far as that goes, I am pretty fed up with bureaucracy. Now all of that aside, I feel a little bit more confident, a little bit lighter and I can see the sunshine in the sky now that there is a load off my back. In a few weeks, I am hoping for another load off my back which hopefully will lead me to my salvation, via helping me get my last and final load off. It's been a long run, wound down to many stupid mistakes I've made, many bad judgements I've called on and just plain idiocy. But I am hoping before my birthday this year, my punishment will be over and I can rectify my sins. What I am asking is nearing miracle and if I know anything about Karma and life in general, Universe will not be as gentle and that kind to me.

Although I have been paying for my sins, mistakes and guilt over the course of the year, steadily and sometimes even quite severely, we, sinners love to dream about the day it will come to end. We love asking for second chances and well, it is but a dream and hope, that just can't be taken away from a human being. I think it's been encoded to our DNA for our ability to continue living in the world. Well, due to the cosmic order of the Universe, I am pretty sure that my punishment will not end there, anytime before my birthday and I will continue to suffer long past my birthday. It is however my wish to be able to unmount all of this guilt and start the next phase of my life, which I am both looking forward to and fear at the same time. On one hand, I know it is the time and of course as always for any human, the unknown both scares and fascinates me at the same time. The ability to rewrite, a new chapter and to change the course of my destiny. How thrilling to the ear! Now, all I have to do is persevere, have patience, do what I can and wait. Oh, have I mentioned that I have to have faith in this cosmic order of the Universe? It's a long way until the end of the road, but at least there is a light within my dark tunnel to guide me out.

Well, enough about this philosophical chant that absolutely makes no sense to anyone outside of my own imaginative characters tat habits the upstairs of my mind. What I originally wanted to say as I sat down to write down this entry was, we have to take the care to rest, enjoy and recharge if we want to be able to continue to move in a positive, forward direction. *sigh*. I am glad that's out. I had worn myself out to the bone, waking up early, going to bed late, running around, literally, carrying having things around, besides all of the loads I am wanting to surmount, I mean in the physical sense, catching the bus, walking around about ten miles from place to place and so on and so forth. Come Sunday, my feet were aching and I just could not roll out of the bed before ten a.m. Even then, I just lingered around at home until I went out to at least write certain things that needed my attention.

So this leads me to today, Monday. I woke up around ten again, got some studying done, intensely too. But I almost fell into despair, seeing how much a week of not reading and studying leaves me behind. All of a sudden, I feel like the dumb kid in class who hasn't had any of his work done and begins worrying about his finals. Well, at least I have conscious and heart enough to worry about my finals. So this week will be even more brutal as I will have to struggle to get done extremely significant three items off my to do list and catching up with my studies. The library is full today, quite to my surprise and I have a good feeling. So let's hope to get done all of these writing assignments before closing time, where I can rush home to finish my reading.

Busy Friday

MM, needless to say things have returned to their normalcy, some what and will return to a regular schedule after today is over. I'd like to be able to take a breather, but I guess I have to count all of my reluctantly labeled off days. Well, as they say in Turkey, the iron that keeps on working won't collect rust.

Though, I have much to do, life seems to love to throw me around from one place to another, have me chase a wild goose chase. Chasing after ghosts is what its more like. If I can have my taxes done today and get a few answers of a few questions, I will count today as a success and leave the rest to the weekend to worry. Though not much remains.

Just a few things that will take most of my next week and then I shall be free to write and study, and let's not forget work as I please. Having a job sounds like a good thing to have in one's resume, for the sake of surviving.

Hopefully, this tax pain will go away by the end of today and I can say hello to a warmer and a more colorful world.

Up until last Sunday, I had a terrific train of thought that suddenly got disrupted by an argument that broke out between me and a family member. Because of that, I gathered everything I had and well, found myself here. Naturally, since I d live here and had decided to move out sometime ago. A place I should have returned long ago. A place I was shut away from due to my own cowardice, fear and incompetence. That is the only thing I hate about my return to Wisconsin. It was abrupt and all of my thoughts and the ideas that had collected towards one direction, accumulating to a certain conclusion, now are all dispersed as I had to just focus all of my mental and well, physical energy at redirecting the course of my life, surviving and getting here safely and well, in efforts to have a future in one way or another.

Well struggling is good, hopefully though this toil comes to an end by next week. Though I am grateful for this is giving me the test I need to face myself once again at my lowest and darkest times and facing a darker self. If I can finish these trials that seems to litter my life currently, if I can make my peace with my wrongdoings and mistakes, I think I can handle anything and I am hoping that I will have also learned from my mistakes. I believe, this is very important. Considering, I do not want to be at the place I am in life right now, again, it would be wise to learn from my mistakes, otherwise I'll end up exactly where I am by next year this time. This is something I want to avoid at all costs!

Pure Blogger

http://purebloggers.com/profile-19838/

Finally Thursday

Sadly, I fell a sleep soon after getting home yesterday night. I didn't get to study. I am hoping tonight I will, though I don't have my hopes up high. But, at least everything is in order and my home is clean. All the steps I need to do and the information required is there to get me where I want to. I can see a little further from my nose at last. This leaves me the whole weekend  to really focus on my studies and my writing. Quiet at last. I had missed this quiet. I also apologize for the very boring blog entries. I am not quite up to speed yet. With everything going on, I don't have neither the mental energy, nor the physical energy required to make insightful, well thought out (as far as content goes) blog entries that are usually ridiculously written slices of life.

Finally, no interruptions and a Thursday I get to spend as I like. I got to live my Sabbath as I wanted to and as I liked to my heart's full content. Sure, it took me about 8 hours, but it was my desire to begin with. I had always wanted to devote all of my Thursdays to reflection and praying, where at night I would focus on studying. Although tonight doesn't look like I will be doing much studying, however it does look like a good beginning. I am glad I have been taking the right steps to get this far. To be honest, I've been surprised and amazed at myself thus far. I didn't think I'd be able to carry this torch this far. Quite honestly, with all of the negativity, broken heart pieces and tears going around in addition to all my exhaustion. I am glad I have though. I am half way through, if I can get through this upcoming week in accordance to my schedule, well...I think I will reward myself when I get the extra few bucks.

Well, here's to me returning to being a Wisconsinite :)

Returning to normal by Wednesday

Well, loads of laundry got done. I spent the morning ironing and organizing more of my closet. I do believe I have done most of it. I don't think there should be anything left. I hope not.

Vacuuming got done, I got  my calendars in sync and here I am for what I was supposed to do yesterday; tax preparation research. I need to figure where to get them done this year, much cheaper too hopefully. Last year, I paid a fortune. Well, I'll begin that shortly. Hopefully, I won't get too sidetracked.

That said, all throughout the night my eye got worse and worst. The morning though, I woke up early even for me, (at 6:30) and applied three sets of what I call the tea bag miracle. What you do is you brew tea (Turkish style) and wash your hands thoroughly. You take a cotton ball and pour some of the tea over it. The tea at this point must be either cold or lukewarm. You squeeze out the excess gently and then lie down. Press the cotton ball on your eye for about thirty minutes. It does wonders and I owe my ability to open both of my eyes to it at this point. My eye is still some what watery and it's swollen. It also hurts, and continues some of it's redness. It has however gotten much better and my lid is not just dropping down on it's own all the way. It is still somewhat droopy, but much better than this morning. I am very, very thankful for that. If it had gotten worst I don't know what I would have done. Needless to say, I still don't know why my eye is this way.

Now that all of my house chores are over though, I only have some stuff left to do outside of the house which I can clearly focus on. I am hoping to get my taxes done on Friday. I hope to meet a good friend of mine after my sabbath. Actually, when I go back home, I plan on catching up with some of my studies. I missed my reading. Computer screen it seems though, is bothersome to my eye, so I plan on limiting my computer time for a while. So life is not so bitter anymore. It's a little bit lighter than it has been for a while.

I think by the end of May, life will eventually turn to a better time for me. I will have (hopefully, all of my fingers crossed, with all of my prayers) taken care of all the things I need in order to have a better life until the next stage of my life. This will be the preparation step for the next stage of my life that I cannot forgoe without. It is essential. Life, be easy on me and take care of me please.

Kafka, here I come!

No ordinary Tuesday

After having slept like a log yesterday night, (after my exhausting crying, deep cleaning and pantry organization night) I woke up at 7:30. To be frank, I didn't expect to be up till at least noon. However, up I was and my day continued to have trials that I had to toil through, although I can't tell if I passed or not.
Clearly though, I am still exhausted and my mind isn't properly functioning. I am not even sure what I am writing, why I am writing at all and how successful my policy of no editing on my blog will be.

Let me say, organizing books is a lot harder than people think it is. This is why you should always be nice to your local librarian and the bookstore you shop from. The things we name simple are simple because we never have to do them, and especially not for a long duration. I always used to appreciate my librarian, I just now have a whole new level of respect for them. Remember kids, put the books you borrowed where you got them from!

Laundry got done, clothes got placed to where they belong. Paper work, binders and folders got organized, created and took their new places on my shelves. A long shower accompanied by food was pretty much the only down time I had. I feel like a horse that works in the fields.

I ended up going to downtown twice; out of my own stupidity and scattered brain at the moment. Can you blame me? I am still low on sleep and my mind is still fried from the previous day. Yay me! Anyway, I ended up taking care of my postal needs, paid some bills, changed my phone number. Here I am, sitting at a coffee shop, I was supposed to do some research for my taxes, but well...I am too tired to actually focus and research. My eye on the other hand is killing me. It's swollen and it's watery, itchy and it hurts and it's only my right eye. So I know it's not allergy, leaving me with about another hundred possibilities and I still I don't know what got into it, why it's this way, but I do hope it just stops soon. Keeping my eyes open has become a hassle.

I haven't actually done any studying, that is going to have to wait till this weekend I am afraid. I definitely need to get my taxes done and my banking in order. Which is what tomorrow is for. Thursday is a sabbath and I wish to adhere to it in my home. That leaves me the weekend to play catch up in my readings.

Tonight though, I am going to rush home and get to sleep. With every cell in my body aching and my legs feeling like they're about to be torn off, with my eye constantly aching, the best thing I can do is just sleep I figure and figure out the rest tomorrow.

"Who were the Celts?"by Kevin Duffy

I have about two chapters of this book left to read. While, I was initially very excited to read this book my excitement soon sizzled out of me with each line of this book. I probably learned more about the Romans than I learned about the Celts I was so eager to learn about. Now I can't wait to get my frustration out.

The book itself seems to be organized efficiently into 14 chapters. I've read about two, sometimes three chapters depending on the day. With the exceptions of two or three chapters which were long enough that deserved to be read on their own. Each chapter is further divided into smaller sections. Now at first this seems like a great idea, but this is more of a space user, rather than actual smaller bites of a whole which aids in digestion of the information.

While some key information resides in the chapters it's usually the repetition of the same sound tid-bits that keeps getting heated over and served to the reader. There is too much emphasis on the Romans and while, it is true that Romans could have been brutal and ruthless, the book takes extra steps to color them as the clear villains of history. I would have liked a clearer, more in-depth organization of facts and a better reflection of such facts  surmounting in knowledge I could have walked away from at the end of this book. I haven't really learned anything I didn't already know--this is not to say that someone who doesn't know anything about the Celts won't learn anything from this picture. Quite the contrary, this books paints fresh and vivid descriptions of the ancient Celts in such a positive light, they could always leap off from the pages of the book. I would have liked to know more historical and practical knowledge than descriptions of their bronze, gold and trousers.
Many of the times the headline reads just what I want to read, instead though, it is just one paragraph about the said, or sometimes even pages with actually one line that states the obvious and moves on without providing any information. There are a lot of unnecessary and irrelevant information that never needed to be considered in inclusion of the book, however they made it through. I believe this is due to sloppy editing work on the part of the editor.

While there is a reference page at the end of the book, it's nearly impossible to tell which information belongs to which source. There is no in text citation, there are no foot citations either. It's almost like he wants to obscure anyone from actually checking his sources, while appearing he has thoroughly researched the subject and he makes wild conjectures based on very little historically true information.

Would I recommend this book? NO. There are far more reliable sources of information in regards to Celts rather than this one particular book. Look for others rather than using your time on this book. You won't benefit much from this book.

Home

Well, I don't know where to begin. I am quite irritable, exhausted and my spirits are so low, I think they might have reached hell at this point. Oh, there is also something weird going on with my eye that I can't tell what it is and it is driving me insane. It's burning, and has made my eye quite red, also whatever got in there, it's making my eye red.

Having left late Sunday Night, I got to Chicago around ten a.m. and home around 6 p.m. I could have been home two hours earlier, but the bus driver decided that my one extra bag was one too many bags and did not let me embark on the bus. So I had to wait for the other bus that arrived two hours later in order to get home. Needless to say, it was a pain and I am still trying to recover. Of course having found a large pile of bills, more bad news and a home that needed major cleaning. So I spent the rest of the evening and most of the night crying, cleaning and then crying some more. Having five bags of fifty pounds each of course was not easy on my body either. The worse of the two is having to put everything back to place in those fifty pounds each of those five bags.

I think the worst was having to say goodbye to my mother all over again. It feels like this is the first time I am leaving home to live on my own. I don't think I even got this sad then. I've had a close relationship with my mother all of my life, with some tension around when I was 16-17, but that dissipated too soon enough. However, the last two years of my life, my mother and I have never been closer. Living with her for two, almost three months were a blessing, but as the heart grows fonder, the roots grow out and completely wrap itself. Letting go of my mother was the hardest thing I had done this week. I wish there was a way we could have been closer. It's like I've been lamenting non-stop since I stepped onto that train.

For the first time my home felt so empty, regardless of how much I've always embraced and have made my apartment my own.

I am afraid relearning how to cope with my mom's physical absence is going to be much more difficult than it was originally and getting used to not spending time with her is going to be even more painful than before.

Time to Leave

It's time to leave. I've even went to bed early and woke up semi early, well before anyone else at least. There are about a billion things left for me to do and although I am not quite sure where I should begin, I've decided that having a good look at my blog should come first. This could be the only entry I can submit for a while. My internet at home is currently disabled and, honestly I am not sure when I will actually enable it again. I plan on using the internet at coffee shops and such so that first I can cut my monthly bill for a while and change a few things around. I plan on changing my phone number, switch to a cheaper plan, get my taxes done and then maybe I'll change to a new service provider, one that's definitely cheaper than Charter. Charter and I have not done well.

Anyway, so I decided to get up, give my blog a second look and do any studying I have planned for Sunday. So while I may do extra studying on train (ones scheduled for Monday) and read some much needed reading, which I haven't done, much to my disappointment. I have to then focus on getting read which includes stuffing my bags in the last minute, taking a shower and make sure I haven't left anything of importance behind.

Usually when I stay home a shorter period, things go a lot smoother. I also don't have this double sided feeling. When I stay longer, I get used to having my mom around a little too much, which hinders my coping mechanism further when I am back at Wisconsin.

I will miss my mom immensely. So there is a considerable amount of guilt building inside for leaving her. It's like the first time I left home for Wisconsin. It feels a lot like that now, leaving to the unknown, because I have no idea what I will be facing when I go back home. Home, because Wisconsin has become my home, the place I feel like I belong to and the place I love entirely.

I have knots in my stomach and there is a feeling of fear, doubt, uncertainty and relief all mixed in together. Not knowing what I am going to face when I go back is scaring the life out of me. Almost having me run away from my responsibilities and instead just stay here. However, the other half is anxious to get it over with, go home and resettle into my own schedule and life. Sleeping on my own bed again will be a tremendous relief and a dream I hadn't had in the past two months.

Open your arms for me Madison and treat me kindly.

Secret, explosive crushes

I want to stop looking at your pictures. It does me no good. This crush is secretly leaving me under it's weight. Tolls can be expensive, one apparently not willing to pay. I kept brushing you aside, continually. One, after another. My heart had developed a soft spot for you, but I know deep down you just cannot understand me, or belong to my world. Perhaps we seek to be in different worlds, perhaps even different goals in life. You have a rosy colored hue to the world, well mine, there are too many colors to count here. You seep into my dreams when I sleep and the invisible roots of my heart slowly start growing around you. I don't want this, not with you, not at this point in time. You'll end up hurting me, as gentle as you seem to be--not that I know much about you.
But, you have that addictive quality. At the end we couldn't be. Ah, there is that girl, right. Along with a billion other things that should be more than enough to keep you far away from me. But I've got a soft spot for you, what to do?

Barnes&Noble

As a book lover, I love bookstores. Bookstores are usually my little pieces of heaven that I look forward to at the end of the week. I might not be buying books as much and as often as I'd like, but a stop at a bookstore is crucial for me. It's like a pick me up, wind down and come to my senses, especially after a long week. It's a way to re-energize and quietly think about whatever it is that I might want to think about, find out about and well, experience about. I love second hand bookstores, or local book stores. There are memories in second hand books that is a gem to an aspiring writer like myself. The notes written in margins, thoughts of a stranger, speculating about what kind of a person who might have held this book in their times and their ultimate reason for leaving that book behind.

Local bookstores usually carry books that you can't find easily in chain bookstores. The editions that aren't sold in such bookstores, or the novels and such that has been written, however is not in popular demand, so you have to go up to the front desk and see if they will order that book in for you. The books that all great literature lovers love, however they cannot be found anywhere among the tons of badly written books of our modern times. After all, they sell more than real literature, books that make us think, ponder our relationships among each other and to the societies we live in. They make us feel things we have never felt before, recognize feelings we never thought that existed with in and to analytically think about bigger issues in the world, the times we live in, where the world was once and where the world is going. After all, sometimes these might paint a bleak, pessimistic and rather too complex ideals, characters and plot in which we rather settle down with a dumbed down version of humanity, where the only thing we need to significantly hold to our heart is the love of a teenager. It's easier.

Regardless, it's great to find such treasures in our local bookstores, with it's charming atmosphere, witty slogan and the owner that attends to his shop and can give you recommendations on his own taste and knowledge of the literature industry rather than just what is selling most and what has just been recently released.

However, there are particular things Barnes&Noble is suited for and I love them for it. I don't want the diminishing income and important of local bookstores, but I can't also help my heart from falling in love with different aspects of Barnes&Noble.
1)Their membership program is very useful. If you purchase more than 5 books a year this is definitely worth the money to invest in. In the lowest and most basic reason, you end up not paying the tax of a book due to it's 10% discount. Usually, there are other additional savings available, especially during their sales. Who doesn't want cheaper books? With the membership, when you order your books online, not only do you get those books cheaper than their online prices, you also do not pay the shipping price. How awesome is that? Not paying the shipping definitely saves a lot of money in the long run. With the money saved from shipping, you can actually buy other books with.
2) Their books are available online. I love ordering books online, it's easier for me to get my books delivered to my door (not because I am lazy, but the Barnes&Noble closest to me isn't really in my way and being reliant on public transportation, going all the way out of my home just to buy a book isn't always feasible) and books are almost always cheaper online in Barnes&Noble than they are in their store. Who doesn't want to pay less for a book? At the end that will get me more books rather than one.
        2a) Their Marketplace. This means you can buy even cheaper never used or even used books from     their online stores. This means they do buybacks and this helps to continue to circulate books in the market rather than throw them out. 
        2b) You can create an account, link your membership number to your user ID and keep a virtual list/library of your books. You can review them, and books purchased with your membership can be added literally by a click. You can also add any other book you have in your library at home. It's great for people on the run and do not like to ereaders. You can access them nearly anywhere and always see which books you want to buy next. Although the My Library could be altered in a more efficient way, it's a great idea.

3) Their classics are excellent. They're the books we're all supposed to read (you might not like them, but if you do love books and are thinking of having a career in the literary industry, they are the books you should read) and they usually come with great introductions, footnotes, inspiration to other works, along with some great discussion questions and other sections. Their prices are always excellent. You could buy many of the classics for under ten dollars. The books you would have had to pay twice, sometimes three or four times more for just one. With fifty bucks, you could many so many of their books (at the very least 5, if not more). Some of the books contain two shorter novels and a number of short-stories. Some of them are a novel and a large number of short-stories included in their addition. No matter, they are well worth the money.
P.S. about two or three times a year (especially during Christmas time and summer time) they have Buy 2, get 3rd free Classics sale. It is an amazing deal, one I advise you do not miss.

4) High School/College study aids: While many of these kind of study aids, test preps, college planners, best college lists, how to apply for..., class aids are available at a number of different stores and through numerous online websites. However, none are as thorough as Barnes&Noble as far as I can tell. Whether you decide to go into their store or browse around their online site, Barnes&Noble is sure to offer you a great source for college prep and studying. I love their Sparknotes collection, I must own at least a 1/3 of their all published books. I own from anything like How to Write: a short-story, poetry, essay, research paper, to Short-Stories 101, Literature101, Political Science 101, American Government 101, Philosophy 101, American History 101, Women's Literature 101 to review of the classics such as Hemingway's, Shakespeare's or Tolstoy's stories that has tremendously helped me in preparation to my classes.

Hate it or love it, there are many great qualities of Barnes&Noble. It's good to take advantage of such opportunities.

Has my illusions been shattered?

The Curious Case of Learning

Such an important thing and so it is such a confounded, confusing and an abstract term. It's hard to pin down one's exact steps to learn something. It's even harder to put into concrete terms of when something is learned and how it is learned. I am aware of the books that entails such great descriptions, studies and opinions on learning and when someone starts learning. I am familiar with such books in which they have sculpted my own process of learning throughout the years in various different ways. However, I do not believe (at least, not for me) is not so concrete or neatly "fold-able" (here I go, inventing words that do not exist).

Sometimes, I think I've learned something to discover that I have not even understood the basic concepts and fundamentals of an idea, application or whatever it is that I needed to learn. Sometimes I think something has totally flied over my head leaving me speechless and well, under a heavy mist and fog turns out to be well understood and I have become able to apply it in it's practical use.

I must admit, while I like to pat myself on my shoulder for my keen observation skills, my sharp wit and my quick thinking on my feet (which needless to say has saved me from trouble several times, while it has pursued me into trouble just as many times) I never learn anything actually very quickly. I believe that learning is a step and that it is circular instead of being a one line of thing.

I often feel that in order to learn the basics we must learn a bit of the complicated so that we can trace back our steps and thoroughly and in actuality, truly understand once set of theory, it's concepts and the fundamental belief of said theory. Take for example, my struggle for grammar. While I know what a noun, an adjective, an adverb, a verb, a pronoun is, I have sometimes difficulty with other things such as direct objects, indirect objects, verb-tense matching and subject complements and such. However in a very recent time I have discovered that I have understood these when I pursued far enough to get to sentence elements (This is not to say I was not blasted away with other things, which made more sense after I went back all the way to the beginning and reviews everything until then). This is exactly what I mean by saying that learning is circular and we must often retrace our own steps and it is never perfect, just like a circle. It will always be somewhat elliptical even if we cannot see it with our naked eyes. In another example from my complications of learning Grammar, recently--not as recently as the previous example--I felt like nothing was getting through my head at all. Everything seemed at a loss and I felt like I was in the bottom of the sea and all of these terms, descriptions, definitions and explanations were just swimming around me and I was being swarmed by them as if I was freshly leaked blood and they were hungry sharks. Yeah it was that scary to me (although, I guess I cannot know for sure since I have never come face to face with sharks, neither do I have any such desire for meeting sharks up-close and personal).

In order to learn something I probably read that small passage many times and even summarize it to see if I actually did in which I return back to write notes on the whole chapter/book/etc. so that I can accumulate the knowledge. I never get anything on the first try, even if it is a simple matter. I must go back to eat, read it, highlight, write on it, take notes on it, go back and review those notes and highlight those notes before I can feel confident that I have begun my learning process of the said material.

I guess at the end what I am saying is that I am not as smart as people think that I am. Perhaps, who knows? I do not think that intellect can be measured by numbers and mathematical equations alone. It is just too subjective and biased way to approach intelligence. What I am truly trying to highlight something is to give yourself time. Just because you have not done well in a class doesn't mean you can't in another or in a higher level of that class. Tests are required to measure some sort of progress so that the universities can measure the students and their professors unilaterally. But learning is not just defined and limited to the rooms of a classroom within it's allotted time slots. You can continue to learn that class on your own time even after that class has long ended, building on what you needed and further going out to truly appreciate one topic or so the other. If you want to truly learn something, you must be patient, willing and to go through some repetitiveness.

This Changes Everything.

Not really, not at all in all honesty. Well, before I confuse myself, the truth is that I made some new changes to the appearances of my blog. Not that I have a long list of followers who read and appreciate my work. However, I thought it was the time to update certain things to reflect both the changes I have personally and as an aspiring writer have gone through. Again, not that this changes anything at all. I am still in the stages of trying to discover my own inner voice and the difficulty of reflecting of that voice onto the paper; with all hopes and efforts to have it somewhat warm, credible, amusing and professional at the same time. Which, before you even think it, I know, it's impossible to do all of them at the same time. A writer can dream, right?
So, I've messed around with the templates, the font and what not, God knows what I actually ended up doing at 8 in the morning (I haven't slept yet). Was it good? Was it bad? Who really knows? Considering I will be biased in this case and considering there is not a single soul that has been particularly reading all of my work carefully up to now, to tell me and be the judge of this barely existing blog. Well, this blog does exist, for the sole purpose of letting me vent and make a fool out of myself by publishing my chaotic ramblings, that follow absolutely no logical procession in thought online. I don't even particularly remember, why I started this blog and since then have continued to write in, albeit unsuccessfully and inconsistently. However, I do know why I write in it as of recently; it gives me limits and boundaries to think about when I am writing which is something I desperately need as it is evident by the style, level and the content of my blog. Sometimes, I am inclined to write of personal matters and my real thoughts about certain topics, ideas, people and such. Most of the time, I shy away from doing such a ridiculous thing and instead write in my "thoughts journal" which no soul other than me can lay his or her eyes on. Then there are times I let it all be damned to hell. I barely make sense to myself, I doubt I make much sense to anyone else. To summarize, I continue to write because all of these rantings needs a space to go and I don't want to pollute my thought journals with the entries written on here. They do need a place to go to as I seem to desire to read and write everything and anything possible simultaneously--which let me tell you, does not work to relax the mind one bit--and they end up here because at least now they don't occupy space on my real space and I don't further continue to waste away beautiful trees that are diminishing to be never replenished again. I very evidently need some sort of restrictions in the way I talk and address my audience, along with the content I present here. I obviously need to go a long way before I can even begin to accomplish any small victories in this department along with any department of writing.
At the end, changes were made which I felt reflected my inner world as of recently. Were they justified? I do think it was time. Were they of good-natured and properly done? Well, I currently have no judge to tell me of such a thing.

How You Make My Day...

You know, we hadn't talked in a while and I desperately continue to miss you. I don't even know what this feeling really is, but the desire to always talk to you and the "good-feel effect" followed by our conversations and the jokes you make are endless and they eventually have made me your addict. Perhaps an outsider would view this as the origin of "romantic" or "sentimental" feelings. They would tell me to "confess". While there are a lot of sentimental feelings for you, it's because you have been actively a part of my life since my teenage years, increasingly into my adult life and have influenced me greatly. Additionally, it's because I care so deeply about you and feel that the ties that bind us together cannot become undone so easily. Romantic, well, I think the two of us are beyond such things, at least in towards each other. For me, as long as you are there, that is the most important thing, well next to you being your happiest every single day. An impossible dream, yet a wish I constantly wish from the bottom of my heart.  As far as confessing goes, we've both done those a long time ago. There isn't a single secret between the two of us. I can't for the life of me think of anyone other than you who truly and compassionately understands me the most. Exception of my mother, I can't even think of anyone who would care for me, of me and what becomes of me. Whenever there is rain and the gray skies seems to rule over my temperamental soul I seek comfort within your haven and when they are chased away by sunshine and a vibrant rainbow, I seek you out to share that with me, so we can play barefoot on our crisp green grass together. You flutter my heart and I mean that in the non-romantic way. You simply make me happy. I could go on and on and on but firstly that would make you feel awkward, uncomfortable and shy. Secondly, it would drag on and bore the rest of the human race on this planet. A friendship as such between a man and a woman after all is uncommon (though they exist in many). I proudly carry you in my heart wherever I go. I couldn't possibly do more (short of writing your name with airplane wastes). P.S. that was sarcasm.

Today though, the feeling of missing you was lessened in tiniest part. I got to talk to you shortly and I found myself to wonderful surprises of smiling as you kept liking one picture after another. You made my day which continued to flourish my weak imagination and motivated me to write with my less than admirable writing skills. For your existence on this earth, I will always continue to be thankful. You are truly kind and once in an entire human race. To all those who knows you from distantly to intimately--how lucky we are. You couldn't make me happier if you gave me the universe...but just being around you warms this hole I have and brings smiles to my face that no other soul could ever dream of accomplishing.

For you!

Bu ic cekmeler

Icimdeki su sikintiyi atabilsem. Su icten ah cekislerim bitebilse. Yarinlara umutla bakabilmeyi ogrenebilsem. Su yuklerimi atip, rahatca, hafifce nefes alip verebilsem. Bende artik su kaygilarimi kenara koyabilmeyi becerebilsem. Ayaklarimin ustunde sadece kendim basaraktan yasiyabilsem, sen bana bir selam versen, merhaba desen. Biliyorum, dolaniyorum aklinda, ama sesin hic cikmiyor. Yuregim hop etti, dalginim, aklim duman, karistirdin herseyi. Bir yerlerde, birseylerimi kirdin, parmak uclarinla devirdin, isyanlarimi baslattirdin gene. Ic cekmelerim bitmek bilmiyor. Ardi ardina, devamli, saatlerce, uykumda bile. Bu agirlik, kalkamiyor. Golgende olabilsem diye dusunmek istemiyorum. Merhaba desen diye umut etmek istemiyorum. Kendi kendime bir vapurda tek kisilik bir yolculuga ciktim gene, umutla biri daha biner diye bekliyorum. Olmucak is ya, genede ruzgar este ben yoluma devam edeyim. Yorgunum demeye yuzum yok, gonlum kipirdiiyor demeye korkuyorum. Ya gene acilarla sararsam bu zaten kan revan olmus yuregimi?