End of July

Today is the end of July. I am growing impatient, a little frustrated and overwhelmed. We still have two more weeks before we move, everything is packed, I've given away my donation boxes and the things that needs to be thrown out that will no longer be any good to anyone have been thrown out. I am desperate to move out. Sometimes I find my breath stifled, and an overbearing weight sitting atop of my chest. My corners from everywhere has been shrinking, continually diminishing and I feel like I can just disappear. I think about disappearing sometimes; taking the wrong turn somewhere, and keep walking until the ends of the earth to find the answers to the questions I have in my mind. The things I want to know most. Things I know I can never, should never know. I should let it go, but I can't. The woman inside of me is holding on to the little bits of it and I just can't get over it. How juvenile.

I want these oppressive feelings that are taking over me, stirring my blood and making me into a raging lunatic to fade away. The small voices inside of my head are getting louder. The essentials of my voice are getting smaller everyday. Sometimes, I have a difficult time hearing what's inside my head and what it is that I am really feeling. Everything is so mixed up in my heart.

Promises and Reward

And because everyday is an uphill battle, daily, I make promises to myself. If I get through this, if I get through the day without breaking down, if I get through the week, accomplishing what I must, then I will reward myself to, cup of coffee, an expensive latte, or one small item of clothing of 5 dollars. Let's be realistic, that is the maximum of what I can afford. I haven't been able to buy facial moisturizers due to the fact that we just don't have enough money. The delicate balance with extras just cannot be maintained.

I find it sometimes gets a bit easier to manage through the day if I have something to look forward to, even if it is a guilty pleasure. Beggars can't be choosers. So I move on, marching slowly, hoping for the day that the sunlight at the end of the tunnel is brighter, warm and inspiring enough to compel me to motion.

Reminding of Yourself

I am reminded daily of what happened in the past, so acutely that it's disorienting in the mornings. Sometimes, I don't know what day, time period I wake up to. I confused the fine line between past delusional haunting of my mind with today. I seem to wake up in the past, continually. It is damaging to myself and a bit tiring, difficult and hopeless to work through that every morning. Speed up the process, relive through these pains and suffer these wounds daily, until time catches up again. And sometimes, because the living of the past is so condensed, the emotions that are strongly attached to my experiences bring such negative emotions that the pain is all that much more intense, hurtful and bewildering.

It's a battle with myself, everyday. To forget, to greet the day, to keep working. It's my personal battle to not descent into my personal hell of revenge, depression and abyss.

Some days are more successful then others. Some days the necessity of appointments, arrangements and promises to keep is enough to get me going, out of the house and momentarily disabling the sensory inputs and outputs, which allows me to clamor, climb and pass through the day, until I come home and break down.

Other days are bad from the beginning and grow even more excruciating in the process of noon to night. It's immobilizing and I am reminded of the hopelessness of then. Not a good feeling.

It's a daily battle.

Weather

It's been a strange summer, my strangest summer in Madison thus far. I've never seen the weather so cold, so rainy and dark here in Madison. It almost feels like a Fall. I am fond of Fall, but I'd like to have a little bit of Summer before we move onto the bitter, colder and more rustic weather I am enamored with.

To the strange and sometimes irrational, it feels as if the weather's been cool so we can continue to fast.

Writing Update

I don't exactly know what kind of Mini Courses U.W. will be offering for fall. I am assuming there will be several related to Fiction, which I am resolved to register and take all of them.

Besides that, it turns out I have to take a Compass Test in order for me to start my Journalism Certificate classes. That's okay, I am not particularly worried about doing well enough in the English part that I will pass out of English 101. After all, that is required in order for me to take the classes that I need. It is a bit bummer, but there is very little to do about that. My courses usually are full length and therefore are more expensive. I was hoping that this wouldn't be the case. Finding the money is going to be difficult, though I am hoping new opportunities will rise for then, by then. MATC is on hold until the Compass Test and money. Though there is one course that is only $99, not related to Journalism, but instead directly to writing titled "Publishing A Novel" which I will be taking, as soon as I gather the money for it.

Besides that, I've been doing some research and have been researching fiction contests, literary magazines and writing workshops, conferences in and around Madison. I am so happy to have found so many great ones. Since I do not have a story yet, there is very little I can do about submitting my work. But knowing my avenues is a great comfort and a sigh of relief to my mind. This way, I have tangible goals that can be reached and checked off my list.

I am not sure about a Creative Writing Degree, but I am beginning to consider it as a viable option in some sorts.

Now, if I could be factually, orderly and in a disciplined matter be writing those great stories that used to clutter my mind continually and made me a lunatic.

Research Groups

It's been a stagnating Summer with much to do, but without much to progress, boast or even be extremely happy about.

S is working hard, researching about his options, what he can do, what he wants to do and where he can go after this. He is trying to come up with some sort of proposal, trying to create a new beginning, a fresh start and also trying to motivate himself for academia once again. As his efforts were effortlessly returned back to him, he feels a little oppressed and hurt by the whole process, and so a lot of motivation is broken.

His passion for Science and his good will to change the world, be of benefit to someone makes up for his lack of discipline and regular his inability to stick to a regular schedule and set hours, which further complicates our planning and stifles our growth process, tremendously.



I would love to see more hope instilled in his heart and to see his eyes shining for Science once more. That's the S I know.

Freya Katkowsky

We recently had our interview and now that everything has been shed into light, it's good to know.

First things first: If you're in the Madison area, give her a chance. She is an amazing lawyer with a great attitude. Great people who are lawyers do exist!

http://www.kisimmigration.com/

That is the link to her website. She is careful, patient and clearly answers questions. From this ordeal though, I would like to say not every lawyer is awesome as she is.

So go in there in confidence and well prepared. A bit of background research, some online forum browsing has never hurt anyone. Also maybe stopping by the library and going through a reference book won't hurt either. If you know your case and understand the complications, reasoning and implicated of your situation, you can describe your situation to your lawyer better. And if you understand where your lawyer is coming from, you can understand her advice better and that where she is coming isn't another planet, but based on articular prior procedures, hearings and results. This also arises particular questions about your situation you should be aware of. Only to cover yourself 100% is through understanding where you stand. If you understand it, you can explain it better and in return be more satisfied with what you can and cannot do.

Go in there with a series of questions that will enable you to make right decisions legally, even if you did not choose to hire any kind of legal help, representation and such.

Goodluck.

The Cheesiness Continues

Today, being the second month anniversary (though I must mention, I wonder the ensuing, never ending capacity of my inability to end my cheesiness, I swear, I was never like this before) I think the Universe is sending out mixed signals at best.

After months of grueling research, paper gathering, document searching, discovering, finding, securing, obtaining, scanning, photocopying, endless hours spent in front of the computer screen, reading through what seemed to me an abyss of information regarding the whole non-immigrant to immigrant status changes, what, which forms, what documents needed, required, where to and how to obtain them, how to handle, fill out and send said such forms, lawyer investigation, finding, calling and begging of free consultations, we were finally able to have our consultation.

(I realize the sentence is a run-on sentence. I obviously could have changed it and made it far more logical, organized and grammatically correct. Though, the constant, never ending, out of breath state of the sentence, described rather accurately our days since May 24th, once without a stop, break and that continues to suck the life out of cores).

In the past two weeks intense research about J-1 Visa Waiver Process, we found out more than we wanted to. Only because, it was such discouraging news that the first night, we walked around Madison for hours, on the West side of the city and had to hail a cab back home. We felt paralyzed, we discussed, and discussed, created scenarios and tried to get to the bottom of a truth we had no access to, nor the knowledge to hypothesize. We were so disappointed and felt so heavy hearted, so desperate and not knowing what to do, nor what was available, eventually we both broke down, hugging and crying for a good amount.

Of course, the next day, we continued searching through the web, forums and any kind of legal website that offered free online information and consultation, of any kind. We browsed, read, reread and reflected and then discussed what that meant to us, what we could do with that option and what remained an availability of what we could do. Then we repeated this process again and again. By Tuesday of this week, we realized how grim our situation could be if our only option was to stay here, no matter. But as we worked out through the information, what we wanted to do, what we could do and how we could best attain them. We've always decided that we were going to go back to fulfill S's Two Year Home Stay Requirement when the time came and would actually try to first live in Turkey, considering that we both have buffed up our resume to take such a bold action. We'd try, see what Turkey has offered and is able to offer us, measure our happiness, satisfaction with our lives and jobs and make a decision whether to continue living in Turkey or coming back to the States.

The main issue is that we refuse to live far apart, under any circumstances and for any amount of time, over a three month period (which we decided would be the most we could accomplish and sustain our sanity) and that S definitely had to finish his program here, I would also have to go back to school and finish my Masters with some sort of work experience which will grant me a better job position then were we to stay here.

It seems that obtaining a J-1 Visa waiver when the visa is sponsored via Fullbright is near impossible. So beware those of you who are trying to accomplish this, chances are slim. Though, I suppose the contents of that is another post.

So, we're going to have to make do and make some adjustments to our next five and next ten years goals. Looks like we'll be going to Turkey sooner rather than later.

Mid-Summer Rain

A lot of people tend to be quirky about the rain. People curse at the rain, swear off and instantly feel down. What is about the rain that people tend to hate so much, especially so much more so than snow? I've never truly been able to understand that. I am a rain kind of person. I prefer Fall to any other season, and if I can't have that, I'll take Spring. Winter and Summer tend to be my last selections, Winter coming in third and Summer finishing it off.

For me, the sound of raining is something that both calms something so deep within my soul, and also stirring, exciting those emotions I've left aside during normal business hours to be a functioning member of the society. The whole idea of being caught to a surprise shower seems something entirely delectable to me, and the premises Romantic, no matter how unconventional being caught in the rain can be.  Rain itself, holds a promise, promise of a better, bigger, brighter, fuller and in bloom tomorrow that holds the possibility of fruition of my labors. I can always interpret it as a sign of blessing from the Heavens to at least sooth my agitation and anxiety of how everything has been stagnation and has come to a still.

Rain, you're always welcome in my backyard.

Print books vs.e-book

http://www.newyorker.com/talk/financial/2013/07/29/130729ta_talk_surowiecki

For those of you who are interested in the future of print books (such as I am), here's one that will make you feel better about the continuing existence of available print books.

One for Books in a long time.

Writing Assess

I can't believe I've completed my courses. This is a dream come true for me. Previously, I always had to defer to staying at home and in shadow, shrouded in privacy about my writing. I labored over my craft and took out books, but really I had no idea what else to do. I knew I should take classes but I had no idea how to get to those resources. So, even if they're simple, Mini Courses, I am so glad that I was able to take that first step towards becoming a better, committed, loyal writer.

Next step is to engage myself in fiction in many layers, from volunteering at print media outlets, writing a lot, taking more courses, joining a critique group, attending conferences, workshops and seminars, submitting my work to fiction contests and to local literary magazines.
I have a plan in mind, goals that will help me achieve my dreams, that gives me the biggest hope in the world. My goal of becoming a writer no longer is an abstract concept I have no idea what to do with, it is a serious possibility of being realized after years of hard work and money. It feels concrete, something I can analyze in a more minute way and measure.

Welcome Back Students

It's scary to admit that it is now the middle of July. I have no idea what happened to the first two weeks of July, nor do I know whatever happened to June. I also don't understand how fast May disappeared, wherever it decided to leave me.

Up until this weekend, Downtown Madison created the illusion of being an abandoned, desolate city, with a few souls hanging onto a decaying city. Even on a Saturday night, State streets had been nearly empty, unusually empty. Coffee shops attendees have been scarce (I would know), libraries have become my private, privileged sanctuaries where only I seem to spend time in.

This weekend, Madison seems to be returning back to it's original state of chaotic, busy, partying students that likes to over drink, fight in the middle of the streets, and pretty much party until four in the morning (much to my despise, considering we live in Downtown, next to a known party house, where it drives my life miserable, every weekend night)

The house, turned into apartment building we live next to has three floors and there were parties in its two floors, The building across them had a party in it and it seemed to me, there was a party at least in one unit, in all the apartments in the neighborhood. It's hard to hear one another even in the house, there are people constantly knocking on our doors, windows, trying to get in, or pooping in your front yards, sometimes we've caught them peeing too. Some are passed out in their pukes, where we call the cops so that at least they get some sort of attention in the middle of the night. Some people think it's a neat spot to have public sex. Beer bottles are thrown out of higher floor balconies and people keep screaming various things, I've never been able to understand.

Welcome back, underage drinking Students!

Abyss

Another obstacle, another break, another set of bad news. My head hurts, will this ever end? Will we ever heard good news? I am just exhausted, want to crawl into a ball, pull over my blankets, cry until my eyes hurt and never get up from the bed.

It's like a never ending cycle of depression. It's persistent, awful and atrocious. My heart keeps breaking into pieces and I feel more out of touch sometimes, no matter how hard I try. Every morning Everyday I wake up, go through my rituals and the necessities of being alive. But there is a harrowing hole in my chest, that keeps growing bigger. I feel hallow, emptied and vacant. I can't seem to be interested in anything. I go through the motions of smiling, greeting, caring, answering and asking questions of pretending that there is absolutely nothing wrong even though my whole world is caving underneath my very feet and I have no idea where I will be falling.

I've been rejected from everything, so much that it feels as if, I am condemned and forgotten. No matter what I hold dear, what I painstakingly nurture, crumbles to ashes in my very own small palms, with nothing but burn marks left. The scars to remind. At this point, everything seems to go negative, everything seems like a challenge. At the end of the day, I don't even want to come back home, because it no longer feels like a home. Our home has become a storage room for our boxes. There is a little less than a month left, and I can't wait to move into our new apartment. There is literally, only that left we're counting on.

Writing Again

To be writing again is strange. The only thing that comes to mind is of two subjects and two subjects alone. It either has to be about that time in June, or the past several months in the Winter that I was severely depressed.

I choose to write about the latter for my own sanity. The wounds are far too fresh for me to coherently write something and not be effected by it under any circumstance. The other is more manageable, controllable and I believe I will even benefit if I were to analyze and write a story about this. I am not sure what I will do with the story eventually, however, it is better than not writing at all.

I live to write and writing is as essential as eating, sleeping, excreting waste and taking care of other bodily needs. It is also one of the most dangerous things I can do to myself. It is lethal where it can either make or break me. I tie my misfortunes, mistakes and inability to grasp ideas, life, people with if I am writing, or writing enough or not. Crazy, huh?

After a long pause though, it's great to be writing fiction again.

The Art of Indie Publishing Class

Today is my second class of E publishing class. Whoever taught this was easy, well, kindly reconsider that opinion of yours.

I don't know how much I will concretely and actually benefit from this class in the long run and in an immediate manner. However it has given me some tools to think about the path I want to take as a writer for the upcoming year. It has renewed a passion, brought about new routes to explore and take upon on my journey as a weary writer. Who isn't in this profession, sister? Having options and a sort of plan where you can do something to walk towards your life long goal, dream is encouraging, refreshing and something that damn well makes me happy. I feel like I have actually started moving again, instead of stagnating where I have been as the Ottoman Empire's last century before destruction and oblivion.

The little steps that matter, this has to be one of them, this opportunity right here, right now. I am just not sure how much of the information disseminated here can be actually understood due to the nature of the instructor. She is so hyper and all over the place. It's going to be a lot of research time for me after this class, definitely. Do I feel that it was worth my money? No. But it is a great start for me, so I am not going to complain.

Coming to a close

Today is the last day of my Fiction Writing class. It's bitter because, well, I am a pout and like to rain on everybody's parade. Simply, if I wanted to pay for having the time to write, I could have done so. I would have created a writer's group where we could pay to read our writings.

But then again, I am glad having gotten the ability to go back to writing, without strings attached and having to worry about turning my unpolished work for a grade. Besides, we've been so busy with so much that, I barely got the time to hand in several pages of a story and two character sketches. Though, on a personal level it has done me a great deal of therapy.

But I was hoping for a far more structured, informative, planned ahead, with serious homework load, class time preserved for instruction and different writing exercises that would kick start any levels motivation and also imagination. I also work better with unmovable due dates, grave attitude and serious atmosphere where consequences are made real and heavy with a structured, organized lesson plans. I learn the best that day.

I am glad I began and finished this class even though it felt a bit of a waste of my time. I was able to recognize several things about myself, personality and mind working ways, as well as about myself as a writer and had a lens poking through about me, my work in depth. I am glad to see all my work of the previous years has had a cumulative effect on my writing. The level of my writing has seriously been upgraded. The stories I am able to imagine and capable of sketching out, flushing out, characterizing has also become somewhat more sophisticated.

Even these things are worthy enough to recognize, though I did not need to pay 70 dollars to see it.

At least I feel like I've taken the first step towards becoming a professional writer that I have been hesitating, and had no idea where to begin. I feel like, I am one step closer and that I could actually do this. To feel an impossible dream is one step closer to becoming improbable is a lift to my heavy curtained heart.

Background

The more research we have been doing, checking out the discussion forums. There is a pattern. I was really hoping that me being a citizen would change everything, but it doesn't seem to effect anyone but the couple living through the ordeal. Everyone else, couldn't possibly care any less. It just is not humanly possible.
I do not think it is possible to achieve our dream: Finish our education, gain experience, change S's visa status into a naturalized citizen and then go back to Turkey. I am desperately hoping the lawyer will say something else entirely.

Free Consultation

I've found it. I've found the only lawyer alive that gives out free consultations time to time.

I wouldn't have done this two years ago and say that I must pay my dues, when they are due. As you can tell from the context of the previous sentence, I've changed. I am much less shy about these things, much more out going and a lot less embarrassed to ask for things, especially free things. Of course never in the manner that would ever diminish my pride or hurt my self esteem, even bruise my confidence. I have no qualms about citing my problems and using them to generate the right reaction so that I can get what is either a) legally what I deserve or b) a more favorable answer, i.e yes, I can give you a free consultation. You don't ask, you won't receive. Though, make no mistake, you have to do plenty to get that one free thing. Don't let this make you think you can get everything, anything for free, simply because you ask.

Happy 46th, Mom

Today is my mother's 46th birthday.

To the most amazing human being on earth with a wonderful soul and a strong heart, who has never yielded to pressure, or societal pressures, always marching to her own drum, never knowing when to give up, the hardest worker, with the most passionate spirit on earth. To an extraordinary woman, where none like her exist.

Happy birthday and to many, many more with all your wishes gradually turning into reality, one by one.

I love you, Mom.

Monthversary

It's been a whole month since that ill fated that day last month. I can't believe it's been that long. I've been mostly morose, cross and unable to stop crying. Or have been stopping for short periods of time. Time is not supposed to be so treacherous that it moves on so quickly during the day and barely moving a second forward at night, where my torture is at its highest level. The night won't come to an end and my pain incrementally increases over the course of the hours to only heighten my sensitivity and sharpen my delusions, depressions and the feeling of loneliness that I have been festering.

I really am not lonely and so lucky to have S, being calm, understanding, caring and enabling me to live out our grief and sadness as much as I can, between our private and closed doors. He lets me get away with many, and he lets me have the alone time that sometimes I require. But I feel abandoned, forgotten and forsaken. It's hard to come to terms with this.

Lawyers Saga

As our lawyer list has been narrowed, I'm trying to score consultations. These things aren't cheap and some firms charge by each 15 minutes and some by 30 minute, before they decide whether they can or should take our case. But despite all of that, I still have to pay them to plead my case before them. This is beyond ridiculous.

There is no possible way on earth that I will ever pay a consultation, no matter what. Consultations should be free. Lawyers are though, what they are, assholes for the most part and refuse to be human, even once it seems. I am sure there is one human left out there among them, and I will find her or him. Until then, my search continues.

Great Expectations

I registered for this course after literally counting my pennies. Since this is a course offered by U.W. even in the form of Mini Course, without having to be accepted into the school to be registered, I thought they did have higher standards.The problem isn't the class. The dilemma is my expectations of the course and how the instructor understood fiction and the teaching of it. Our values and expectations and what we're willing to give in and get out of it are what differs.

What was I expecting? I was expecting a formal class that would require a handbook, guidebook, text book, or would even hand out some sort of papers to reference in which we would have considerable work outside of class to complete and also a detailed information, insight and practice for the craft of writing fiction in particular.

What I got was a critique group I paid to be a part of for several weeks. I wasn't expecting to be writing in class, reading it out loud and get half baked critique from people who can't even read the work itself and therefore could not even give proper feedback in return. You can't critique a written story without having the material in front of you whether it is in print or digital form. This was not what we were doing. The class is great that it is getting me to express my feelings safely, from a remote perspective in the narrative form in which I believe I could try end up publishing after some work and edits. But, I wanted to learn to hone my craft, not be in a critique group.

Great Expectations...

RAMADAN

Welcome Ramadan.

A month full of reflection, prayer, grievances and the hope to be forgiven. All will not be forgotten, surely, but to know that there is salvation down the line from this guilt, shame, regret and pain, then it's worth praying for with every bit of my soul, whatever that hasn't been brutally taken away from me.

On another note it's been a whole year since the last Ramadan. This is our second Ramadan together. The idea of that is exciting and dulls the pain away. At least, maybe this way, we can occupy our minds busy as we fast and turn towards God.

Eve of Ramadan

Today is the day we get up to fast for Ramadan.

This year, I am so ambivalent towards Ramadan, religion and everything spiritual. I just had my heart and soul ripped out, I feel that I have transgressed the most sacred bonds, unity and moral truth and have sinned far beyond my capacity to be forgiven that anything remotely religious seems to create such a negative reaction within the fibers of my soul.

Technically, usually and whole-heartedly, I am a very spiritual, believing person that at the very least believes in essence of it. After the difficulties and everything that happened in June, I am so far removed from the physical, the material, the spiritual, the true or anything at all. I am lost at my own abyss and have no ability to let go or move or seek acceptance, understanding. I just want to drown in my misery, secretly, privately, and don't want anyone to know about it, without it interfering with our lives. I want to go on accomplishing the daily tasks and required tasks of the short term and long term.

Religion, however is far too eerie currently though. It is something my own body seems to reject and morbidly question.

Let's see if I can made do, without truly having my heart in it to practice Ramadan. I am hoping it brings me some peace, rather than torment me more maliciously then before.

Commitment to Write

I've decided the best thing to do is to be committed to my writing and seriously try my hand at publishing this time around. Also, I promised myself that I would do anything necessary to make it through. The next four years of my life will be beyond difficult in terms of achieving my goals. It will be, because I am beginning again, from scratch and trying to build my audience from ground up, and get somewhere.

It is true that I have been seeing myself as a writer, a budding one, but nonetheless, a writer, an unpublished one, but a writer. It is true that I have decided this is the true calling of my life and that I will take my time to getting where I need to be in this choice. However, that is no longer an option when I've realized that writing is one piece of my life that I cannot do without. I needed for an ability to survive and to keep everything else in focus. Because I create tremendous efforts to write, I make it my main goal of the day, so I get everything else in order. Other wise, I know I am not going to get to actually writing a single line. To succeed at writing, my persistence needs to win and my resolve needs to be solid. But that alone is not enough. I need to hone my craft very well. To do that, well I need lots of help.

It's true, I have great ideas. I don't doubt that. Many people and aspiring writers do. The highlight of being a story teller isn't your ideas. It's the stories you tell and how you tell those stories. The style, the narrative, the characters, the structure and plot. The insights. And publishing in 21st Century? Everybody needs help with that. Therefore, I am getting my feet wet with joining a U.W. Mini Course called The Art of Fiction Writing, and it is a class I am excited about. I am very excited to see what kind of writers will be taking this class and what kind of a community I can begin.

But other than that, I don't know where to go. It is true, I work and have been working diligently on my vocabulary and grammar. I continually buy books regarding fiction writing and writing in general and go through them at intervals. I take them seriously and read them, sometimes twice and always with note taking habits.But that hasn't left me anywhere in particular. Especially being on and off about it.

Where do I go and where do I begin and what kind of next steps do I take? Where does one go to become an excellent writer?

This here is my commitment, pledge and honor to write, put in my effort, time and money to become the best I possibly can.

Mess of S

S is a kind, loving and compassionate person. While he may be more naive than usual men for his age when it comes to his innocence and the frank ability to trust people, what they say, their actions and being able to take them on their word. He's never been really duped, or put in an awkward situation by trusting another human. What a wonderful world he's lived in. He's had great friends and his family continues to be supportive of everything he does. He has rarely been wronged, and definitely not on a large scale where his faith in humanity rises above mine.

S is a hard worker, holds many core principles and does not waver from them. At least, I haven't seen him do so. He trusts blindingly, gives his all to an employer, and tries to do his best, not only for himself but for his higher ups because he wants to show how much he appreciates being trusted and put in a position of trust and power. He'll give his weekends, nights and days, continually, without complaining or resenting the job he does.

So, when everything came to the bottom line in the beginning of the summer, it was something he was not looking forward to, left him him crumbles. The tall imaginary building he had created for himself with his accomplishments, works and the long hours he pulled in, all came crashing down. He no longer can stand up straight, his pride is wounded and hurt. He does not know where to go and what to do with himself. Any talk of science or chemistry is painful to him. But he's got lots of pain and disappointment to air out of his system before he can actually do anything productive.

He's left here, with me instead, moping and trying to make it do without suffering too much. Unfair, really.

Post Independence Day

The independence day was nice. We took the day off, celebrated and enjoyed our good fortune with friends. BBQing is essential and beer is the only thing that is perfect. The dream far from the reality. Now that Independence day is over with, we have to return back to our shabby hut and continue dreading through the day as sun climbs up the horizon and cools down with a silver moon.

So it's back to reality searching for lawyers, finding out about J-1 visa waiver. Finding out about Turkish wedding ceremony, not that the consulate is making it easy to obtain information.

Ah, the wonderful life of graduate students.

07-04-2013

Happy 4th of July. Happy Independence Day everyone.

Here is to proclaiming your own independence, claiming your sovereignty and being the master of yourself and principles and being held accountable for them, alongside of your actions.

Here's to new beginnings from scorched earth.

I's Leaving

Today is the day we lose an important friend to our tiny family. (I) has been a big part of our relationship since the beginning. He was there when S and I meet that destined evening. He was at the same table, who later encouraged S thoroughly and believed we were meant to be together. He's been at our Engagement Ceremony, at our difficult times, shared our pain, happiness and gratitude. Again, he was there when we got married and has been an integral and significant part of our lives, every step of the day.

His friendship with S, obviously goes my deeper than I could ever witness to in a short year and a half. It's helpful to think that S had someone who is so young, but incredibly strong, responsible and encouraging, not to mention fun and easy going to accompany him in his past three years of journey, here in Madison.

(I) is a great person, with a bright future ahead. He's already mature beyond his years, with experiences under his belt, that most of his contemporaries do not possess. He'll be in Sweden this upcoming year (what a beautiful country to be in!) and start a new degree, a Masters Degree no less.

We wish him the best of luck!

N&S

Despite

Despite all that, I still have hope. Hope that I can somehow make it out okay, alive, breathing and perhaps, should I dare to say, even better. Not magnificently better, but better.

At the very least, our sleeping schedule seems not as wacky and we're able to get out and do the things we're supposed to. At least I am. S is a bit preoccupied with the protests going on in Turkey immensely.

I still have much to be happy about. I am on my own, no matter how many clutches there are around me. I am with the man I love completely and adore entirely, who is a kind, understanding, humorous man who never shies away from sharing his heart, soul and life with me, with all of its puzzles, complexities and most importantly, all the beauty in it. It's different to look at life from his eyes. It's exponentially so much more brighter, so much more positive and always optimistic, entrenched in hope. He's always got more options, infinitely more than I do. He is always so much more happier for it .

I have made decisions that will effect my immediate future and coming up with a plan for future isn't exactly easy. But it's inspiring and full of confidence and potential. Maybe, this is exactly what I need and where I need to be.

Welcome, July

I can't believe it's already July. Where did the time go? It was March the last time I checked. It suddenly became May despite my protests and then moved on to June, in my disbelief. My ability to attach time and form an association with the said time has become more difficult and tattered as of late. My understanding of time as a concept has been obscured beyond any remedy.

I am glad it's July. That means I have about a month and a half until we move. Everything is ready for the moving, except say the kitchen and last bit of clothes until then. I feel like since we can't settle in and don't feel like this apartment is a home any longer, it's difficult to create a bond, which is even more difficult to make me get up and clean it. Though, I am still regularly cooking and that is a win for me right now. But because there is no ties here, there is no ability to make any kind of schedule that sticks. We keep living abnormally, unattached like a pair of floating ghosts traveling through time.

I am going to be so glad by the time we move in that I'll probably be losing sanity once again.

Currently, though I am doing much better. At least I am pretending to be normal during the day hours, faking through human emotions, reactions and interactions. At night though, is an entirely different story. But the rituals that can be repeated are the only true solace I have. The things I have to get through are my current motivators. I just can't afford to slip up and let it all wash over me, drowning me in their sadness.