1. The state of being content is very beautiful. Everything is good just as it is. Lived experiences have gently melted over time, like a petit beurre biscuit dipped in tea. The future is an untold, beautiful story; the present is a pure state of having no expectations and of love. This state is very beautiful.
2. Witnessing the path of a friend you’ve known since very young ages is very beautiful. Difficulties are difficult, realities are difficult. But there is faith, there is effort. There is showing up. There is courage. There is you.
3. I love reading the comments. Because I love people. I’m curious about what they think. Sometimes there are comments that feel like someone putting their arm over my shoulder, holding my chin and looking into my eyes, patting my back. I love them very much.
4-5. The sweetest part of being in Türkiye is the cats. Unconditional love everywhere. In the metro, in bookstores, in the streets.
6. I’m attending Ayça Şen’s writing workshop. This time we wrote about love. Instead of thinking long and hard, I like to press my inside onto the page like potato printing, and then read it like coffee grounds and write from there. This is what came out of me about love:
"When Ayça said “love,” tears streamed from my eyes, my throat tightened. My feeling was pain.
Was love identified with death for me?
Was it a farewell to being me?
Was it the end of wandering the streets barefoot, shouting with wide eyes?
Or was it the grief of reunion at the end of perishing?
Was it falling… onto a piece of cotton… and being wrapped up in it?"
7. Friends, let’s go for a walk. My mind is usually like four pots boiling on the stove. I’m constantly stirring them: one overflows, another burns at the bottom, one tastes very good, the other turns out too spicy. I spend my whole life at the stove inside my home. Then the world becomes nothing but food. But that’s not living. There is wind. There is the sea. There are flags going flap flap flap. There is sound. There is color. Grey. Red. Yellow. There is a team. There is Göztepe. For me to live, I need to be outside every day.
8. We went to the doctor with my father. On the way back, my father was going to treat me to a meal. Then what do we see right on our way? Rice with chicken being distributed for commemorating the passing of a person. So there you go — a free meal. May the soul of the deceased rest in peace.
9. On another walk, cracking sounds started coming from my father’s shoe. “Can you check what’s under my foot?” he said. Aaah, a question mark! A question got stuck under his foot, my friends! What is this question? Where are you going, traveler? Is the road you’re taking truly THE road?
10. Don’t panic, but sometimes I want to die. Because being dead is easier than living. When you’re dead, there are no difficulties. There is nothing you must reach. There is no standard by which you have to compare yourself to others. A psychologist says we can talk about this not as a source of fear, but as a productive element of self-creation. When we want to die, what we actually want is the part of us that doesn’t function well and serve us, to die. What is that part? Mine is the part that has to do everything right, that is responsible, smart, successful.
11. I started exercising, friends. I’m dying.
12. I really love seeing faces in things. Look — this is the face of an İzmir metro rail.
13 - 17 One of the highlights of this week was spending time with my dear friend Özge and her daughter Masal. We played a bit at the Korean restaurant we went to, and the photos turned out this sweet.
