I know it is you that makes the world more beautiful. I am just loud sound echoing around you whereas you are what the universe adores. But you always dispute it. Now you just make fun of me when I repeat my worry. And I can’t help to make a silly remark about you. You erase my anxiety. continue reading →
I am that person who is incapable of leaving home without having his earphones because the thought of walking outside in the streets and not listening to music makes me feel really agitated. In fact when my iPhone is low in battery my first worry is not how will I contact the person I am supposed to meet but how will I survive the journey back home without listening to my favorite sounds in the bus. Oh the anxieties I sometimes have.
The funny thing is that I did not really listen to music until I was at middle school. I remember at one music class when I was in the fifth grade and the teacher announced next week we would do presentations about our favorite bands and whereas every other pupil in my class seemed to be endlessly happy about the silly little assignment, I was petrified because I did not listen to any pop music. continue reading →
Istanbul is a pot where one could boil sugar and salt and serve the end result as one of the tastiest hot drinks in the world. Dazzled with influences from around the world, the city brings together both the best and worst aspects of the Western and Eastern world. Even though Istanbul sits on two separate continents, she does not let the two worlds co-exists side by side. Rather she put them the two odd ingredients into to the pot with warming water and as a consequence we have one of the universe’s most unique cities.
She does not come across as aggressive or overcrowded as most Middle Eastern, Asian or Latin American metropolitans. Although even she can have quite a temper and then the drivers, helplessly stuck in the midst of her chaotic mind, attempt to find salvage in the sounds of horns in spite of knowing the jam is there to stay. continue reading →
I have written several love letters to Amsterdam. It was the first serious relationship I ever had. I had had some kind of a fling with Rome whom I had met just a few months before meeting Amsterdam. And there was Paris, but that time I was too young to consider anything more than admiration towards her. But Amsterdam was my first one. At the age of seventeen just a few days before moving to Swaziland she gently dazzled my senses with freedom & dreams that come true. I got to know her quickly; she was unreserved and even seven years and dozens love stories later I think she might be still the most unrestrained person I have ever come across in my life. I smelled the signature smell of hers soon enough after exiting the railway station but no one seemed to be bothered.
Two women were sitting on the bench across the main square, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings; masses strolling through the streets where behind the window there were no clothed mannequins but real people without much to wear; families, horny men, transgenders, a tourist group from China, elderly women in their pension, stoners, high school kids and whatever kind of a person you are able to imagine will be found in Amsterdam and most probably all of them in the same street. continue reading →
I have spent the last two hours reading what I wrote when I was seventeen, eighteen and nineteen. At the age of nineteen I fell in love and ceased to write because of my incapabilities to express the feelings that I imagined to exist only in my love stories where the airports spoke of Paris who beguiled one of the sons of the universe: the hopelessly romantic star who wished nothing more than to fall in love with something, which would fall back in love with him.
But the star made an error of judgement in expressing his desires; Paris loved him, more than anyone else in the universe. She gave the star her undivided attention that the rest of the world could only enviously witness merely as a bystander. Dreams came true; the star fell in with the most beautiful creature of the world that fell back in love with him, which was more than he had wished for. And then the bitterly jealous sea whispered to the snowman who makes the wishes true that the star failed to specify the duration of the love he may feel with the one who falls in love with him. At that very moment everything changed, shifted & moved. Except the unconditional love in the deepest dungeons of the star’s heart. continue reading →