The street he lived on came alive from its sleep and fed on noises at night. Outside his apartment, there was a man who continuously yelled at thin air, the other cursed his long-gone wife, and another laughed tirelessly as if he found life unbearably ironic.
“How can I have a life in this never-ending noise?” he often thought. If the banality of life stopped at once, he could take a long breath and really think of his life and what it all meant. Instead, the noisy streets robbed him of his freedom. But this night, the street stood silent…
I never got too much into life. There was always a distance or a hill that I built to sit on top of. Getting into life meant to be in the burning pot. Capitalism, communism, climate change, ideology, technology, what is right or wrong? But what people appear to be missing is the grey area between those subjects. Capitalism is never the perfect solution, the same way communism is.
The more I ‘think’ not to live ideologically, or try to be out of ideology, it appeared the more in-depth my life was shaped by it. It is never out…
Let me tell you a story.
There was once a kingdom of mutes. If you ever visited there, all you could hear was the scream of silence. No songs to be heard. No words to be said. No one ever made a sound there. And no one ever dared to imagine the possibility of the existence of any kind of tune existing. People went to get groceries without making a sound; they ate without letting out a tune. They did not talk — ever. …
Because if there was one thing I discovered out in the country, it was that there is time enough for everything. -Michael K
Time flows strangely in the country.
The country, where it is outside of all the mobilities, everything seems to appear to be intact there. It is a small vacuum capsule that contains the time for everything where it forces you to stop expecting the time to give you things.
Instead, in the country, you extract things out of time. You do the labor there because there is no one except you. You and the ground…
There is something really gloomy about Philadelphia. I moved here and at that time I was happy. I was so happy that I thought Philadelphia is a melancholic city. But now, I do not think so. I seem to fit right in.
Yesterday, I saw that the city was dipped in a blue fog. The skyscrapers blended with them. There was not anything shiny about those shiny glass buildings, which I appreciated.
I stood by the edge of the road and looked at the top of the buildings that are covered in the blue fog. …
We live in a world where the identity plays a significant part in our life. The society taught us that our identity is what matters the most to us.
It is inarguably true that one’s identity is a significant part of being a human and that we do not simply afford to lose it.
Then, the vast growing technology and the media was introduced to us. We started expressing ourselves more than ever. Our will to validate our identity with a help of the media became increasingly significant.
However, the internet with its algorithms is being designed to show us…
Incomplete drafts shoved under the rug. Were you shy or embarrassed? The backstage is always in the back. I wish the backstage and the front stage could switch places sometimes.
Let me tell you a story. No one seems to be telling stories nowadays. Instead, they have, we have given out the story for something else. Traded them.
Facebook replaced stories, Instagram replaced art galleries, Twitter replaced debates around the roundtable, no one seems to have the time.
I think I should talk to him.
People keep saying
people are starving. I agree with them. People are…
I used to wear the night as armor
with a pride and a dignity on my skin that hid
layers and layers of dried flowers.
I made the quietness of it, my name card.
The night in return
poured a stability I never found
Out of night, when the dawn came
I would feel something being stolen away, constancy
as the life rose, the noises rose with it too.
The sun or the dawn was never a friend of mine, until
I met you. then you. and
I forgot the dullness of the night that once
made me joyful.
When I watched you beside me, drifting far apart
in your dreamland, I told…
Community and the internet are different concepts, the same way identity is.
When the technology and the network platforms started rising, bringing us the highly advanced technologies, we started to get exposed to a vast amount of information. We were able to see and gain knowledge about different parts of the world without traveling anywhere.
The whole world started appearing in front of our screens and it gave us “imaginations” and perceptions about how our community is like, how the other community must be like or “feels” like depending on the information the media has given to us.
Coding my way to life