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It's been forever again. Quarantine. Online examination. Worrying. Missing. Writing. Trying to eat healthy but failing miserably. Re-connecting. Day dreaming. Rotterdam. Books. Fantasy. Not my cup of tea. Thesis. Lost. Music. Cookies on the side. La Casa De Papel. Freud. Community. Friends. Love. Family. Isolation. Train rides. Wash your hands. Don't touch that. HouseParty. Facetime. Missed call. Whatsapp call. Safe. Healthy. In transition. Metamorphosis. Solitude. Small things. Compromise. Trying. Failing. Trying again.
diary entry
I miss Istanbul. My life there, my order, my friends, and mostly my family.
I miss the chocolates my mom bought for me and my brother, always at the
bottom shelf of the refrigerator, how the wooden stairs would crack each time
I'm going upstairs to my room, seeing my grandmother one floor below,
how my mom would wake me up because she can't adjust her decibel levels
when she's on the phone, my brother coming out of his room from time to time
into the kitchen to find if any food is lying around, driving through
the shore line listening to my favorite songs. I even miss speaking Turkish, even
though communicating in English has never been a problem for me.
bottom shelf of the refrigerator, how the wooden stairs would crack each time
I'm going upstairs to my room, seeing my grandmother one floor below,
how my mom would wake me up because she can't adjust her decibel levels
when she's on the phone, my brother coming out of his room from time to time
into the kitchen to find if any food is lying around, driving through
the shore line listening to my favorite songs. I even miss speaking Turkish, even
though communicating in English has never been a problem for me.
I hate Istanbul. The chaos, the massive crowds, the people, how I'm forced to
feel anxiety when I'm walking alone on the streets when it's late at night, people's
looks, their sadness. How the thought to live a decent life is so unclear and
scary.
feel anxiety when I'm walking alone on the streets when it's late at night, people's
looks, their sadness. How the thought to live a decent life is so unclear and
scary.
Alienation, in between, constant questioning. Should I stay or should I go?
What else is there for me if I go back? What is here for me if I shall stay?
What do I want? Is it that I miss the familiarity or am I just running away
from the unknown? I know I never felt like I belonged back home. But why?
The anxiety? Why am I stuck in between? Why do I force my existence to
not be happy with what I have? Why am I always stuck in the past? Why do
I feel empty all the time? Like I'm living someone else's life? Why do I always
fixate on the sadness, the negative? Why do you?
What else is there for me if I go back? What is here for me if I shall stay?
What do I want? Is it that I miss the familiarity or am I just running away
from the unknown? I know I never felt like I belonged back home. But why?
The anxiety? Why am I stuck in between? Why do I force my existence to
not be happy with what I have? Why am I always stuck in the past? Why do
I feel empty all the time? Like I'm living someone else's life? Why do I always
fixate on the sadness, the negative? Why do you?
Ignorance may be a bliss, but not for the likes of me, for I'd rather feel and
question everything deeply, push myself on the border of depression, than
to be careless. Because I know I'll be free, I know I'll be happy, in harmony,
in peace, in tranquility, if I ever find my answers. And the quest of looking
for meaning is the only thing I've ever known.
And now? Time for groceries.
question everything deeply, push myself on the border of depression, than
to be careless. Because I know I'll be free, I know I'll be happy, in harmony,
in peace, in tranquility, if I ever find my answers. And the quest of looking
for meaning is the only thing I've ever known.
And now? Time for groceries.
Stay safe & be kind to yourself,
Eda
cloud 9
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