Me? An Island

I have been in this city for three years. And now that I look back, I haven’t made any friends.

What was the problem? Maybe people were too loud, too phony, too stupid… Was I a determined introvert? No, it wasn’t that. I did not want them around myself. Even when they wanted me around them.

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I stayed in my little rooms, where I was always uncomfortable with the noise my roommates made in the kitchen. When I say I have made no friends, and that was my choice, I mean that. The problem is sometimes I get scared when I am alone.

I am scared of myself.

This week my twin sister visited me. She is more depressed than me in some matters, different kind of depressed though, so I try to console her and listen to her. She had this school rejections in her college applications, I got into one, luckily, but you know, she is a better person than me. What makes her better? She loves people, listens to them, helps them, and is productive no matter what. But me? I have been lying in my bed since corona-virus started. First, social distancing was my excuse to be in the house, and my roommates started feeling repugnant about me being in the house all the time, later, I began going out little by little, but then it was too exhausting.

I read books, not as much as I wanted to read them, but some. I wanted to write a story, sometimes too badly, I can cry watching a life story of an author, not out of empathy but jealousy. Why don’t you? You may ask. I don’t know. Okay, that was a lie. I am afraid. so much. I fear that the only thing I care about in this world, writing, will fail me. How to be a writer, anyways? To write a novel, I have ideas, so many ideas, but I don’t have the words. There is also this backlash of being a second language.

I am a coward. I know. I am so much of a coward, I can’t even get out of my bed. Lately, I have been thinking, maybe I am in depression. I don’t know. Today I searched for depressed movies and watched one about a woman who lost her husband and daughter in a car accident; she never cried in public, but in a swimming pool wept she, convincing herself it was the water weeping.

Depression feels like a modern escape for failure to live the life properly*. However, I just can’t. I should be happy. I should go out. I should stop this crap.

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Something should be able to change this. Make me laugh sincerely. What is that? Will I be like this all the time? I want to tell about it to people, but people hate sad stories. They hate a sad person. They don’t want to hear about it. They are always bored at the end. I am bored too. Yet, I also don’t want to have fun.

*it is not.

What is to being

I have a ukulele that I can’t learn, a painting that gives me nightmares, dying flowers, some mistakes have no soul, should I pet a fish? I think they know more than we do, or they are like us, most of them, the ones we can see and touch, the ones that are convenient because delicious and healthy, the others can be used for beauty, of course, but don’t they wander in the skimly lighted sea, and follow the moment for another day to not be eaten, not be catched, or not to become clowns in a rich oxygened tank, a girl was I stared at them, but they never stared at me, not so good at consciousness, are they? what about the deep sea? it is the unknown, we don’t know it, no one, fishes? how funny people send space ships above the sky to learn if there is life but no one sends a deep-sea ship below. what is so great about the sky it excites much more than the ocean. or do we not mind what is ours, but i know everyone would go crazy in an alien invasion, to re- own, from sky, to care about above than ourselves, always. even the unreachable, wander, curiosity, they say. we resemble the fishes in that way, they never try to swim down, always above, we are the same, they didn’t see me when i was a girl looking at them depressed in a tank, not good at consciousness, funny, i see them with ached smile. and i am them, how funny, how sad…

Happy Birthday Poem

Today is my 21st birthday. I want to leave here a poem by Lord Byron. The main idea of it is “you are getting old, and you will die, here a poem about my dead lover, and that is sad, but gotta accept it you loser.” (no it is not like that. I love this poem.)

And Thou art Dead, as Young and Fair

BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)

And thou art dead, as young and fair
As aught of mortal birth;
And form so soft, and charms so rare,
Too soon return’d to Earth!
Though Earth receiv’d them in her bed,
And o’er the spot the crowd may tread
In carelessness or mirth,
There is an eye which could not brook
A moment on that grave to look.

I will not ask where thou liest low,
Nor gaze upon the spot;
There flowers or weeds at will may grow,
So I behold them not:
It is enough for me to prove
That what I lov’d, and long must love,
Like common earth can rot;
To me there needs no stone to tell,
‘T is Nothing that I lov’d so well.

Yet did I love thee to the last
As fervently as thou,
Who didst not change through all the past,
And canst not alter now.
The love where Death has set his seal,
Nor age can chill, nor rival steal,
Nor falsehood disavow:
And, what were worse, thou canst not see
Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.

The better days of life were ours;
The worst can be but mine:
The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,
Shall never more be thine.
The silence of that dreamless sleep
I envy now too much to weep;
Nor need I to repine
That all those charms have pass’d away,
I might have watch’d through long decay.

The flower in ripen’d bloom unmatch’d
Must fall the earliest prey;
Though by no hand untimely snatch’d,
The leaves must drop away:
And yet it were a greater grief
To watch it withering, leaf by leaf,
Than see it pluck’d to-day;
Since earthly eye but ill can bear
To trace the change to foul from fair.

I know not if I could have borne
To see thy beauties fade;
The night that follow’d such a morn
Had worn a deeper shade:
Thy day without a cloud hath pass’d,
And thou wert lovely to the last,
Extinguish’d, not decay’d;
As stars that shoot along the sky
Shine brightest as they fall from high.

As once I wept, if I could weep,
My tears might well be shed,
To think I was not near to keep
One vigil o’er thy bed;
To gaze, how fondly! on thy face,
To fold thee in a faint embrace,
Uphold thy drooping head;
And show that love, however vain,
Nor thou nor I can feel again.

Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
The loveliest things that still remain,
Than thus remember thee!
The all of thine that cannot die
Through dark and dread Eternity
Returns again to me,
And more thy buried love endears
Than aught except its living years.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43822/and-thou-art-dead-as-young-and-fair

Paranoia: The Madness Under Your Skin

Caligula, the third Emperor of Roman Empire. “The great crazy.” Have he ever thought in A.D. 38 that I would be watching his life story in my living room in 2020?

As much as I am so sure, somehow more than enough, he is not as attractive as the actor who is playing him. This Brazilian soap opera tasting documentary is about how one gets in the power, rules in paranoia, kills everyone he cares about, claims enemies, can not swallow a drink for some reason, and gets assassinated by someone who is taking a revenge. Well, isn’t life beautiful in times of Rome?

What is strange about Caligula is that he is known with his madness. Well, that’s not that strange, a lot of rulers are crazy, you may say. Yes, I feel you. But yet, this guy was a popular, so much loved by public, and indeed a pleasure catcher emperor, until he was caught by an illness named “Brain Fire.” I was thinking about this illness’s real name in medical life, but I think it might be psychological (like the one Prince Zuko got in Avatar. Okay I’ll cut the anime crap).

Later with this fire burnt in his brains, this Caligula guy kills his chosen heir (which means son in Roman law), then kills some significant amount of other people who he thinks might be his enemy, such a warrior he was he actually tried to make his horse a beautiful adviser, indeed there are some incest involved, then of course to add something exaggerated by the historians, he talks to the moon (who doesn’t really?).

I am not a historian. But watching this soap opera documentary, I really felt how Caligula was crazy. From the moment paranoia began ruling the blood in his veins, he lost control over his “good side,” and it was not him who made those decisions, it was it, the madness, the paranoia.

Do I have paranoia? I asked to myself. Then for some reason, I wanted to put a crazy laugh there.

Well, I have fear. I am afraid of so many things. First of all, I am scared of insects, so sometimes, I feel like I just saw an insect. But actually there is nothing there. Though this is a small game my fear plays to my brain, it is not pleasant.

This will be an embarrassing story. Once upon a time, when I was staying in boarding school, I made myself believe that I had a huge worm in my stomach. It started when my roommates told me about worms that crawl in human body (before we went to sleep!). Well, because I did not have any acclaimed resource to soothe myself that stomach worms do not appear in the body in the moment you know about them, I started thinking about it. First, I was like “wouldn’t that be interesting?” Later, I was feeling like puking, and started walking around, trying to make it go back to my stomach. The night ended when I scared the hell out of a girl who woke up to my voice and saw me in the dark, standing. OMG. It sounds crazier than talking to the moon now. (I hoped Caligula would overshadow me.)

I know nothing about paranoia. I know so much as science knows. And my friends I tell you, it is nothing. Because no one can cure it. Only the person maybe can learn how to trust, to the world, to the people who loves them, to the fate, and maybe not to the moon that much.

The Strange Uncharted Being

“The strange thing about life is that though the nature of it must have been apparent to every one for hundreds of years, no one has left any adequate account of it. The streets of London have their map; but our passions are uncharted. What are you going to meet if you turn this corner?”
-Virginia Woolf, Jacob’s Room

Noted Virginia Woolf, to me an author who can speak to souls of people in her slow, descriptive, poetic, so difficult to understand language.

Every one of us has a perspective of what living is, waking up, seeing the most traditional dance of the sun and the moon, wondering for the next move, who is going to take care of what today? what should we eat for the dinner, will I pass the exam? Will I become who I desire to become? Why am I so sad, all the time, alone, but so wanting, absorbing, ending, the day will be over. What have I done? What am I doing?

I tried to make a map of myself though. When I was a kid, I remember thinking about myself as someone who should be perfected. I did not want to have decayed teeth, fat belly, an empty mind, a loose understanding… Later, for a while I thought I was the only one who knew the secrets of life, you know, I would read psychology blogs about how would a person would touch their necks when lying, how an insincere laugh could be detected, and how narcissists could use you like puppets.

Then the moment came, I realized with my child mind that these are not the secrets of the universe, indeed, my knowledge on people was universal, and anyone could get hold of them. So I was concerned, anxious, with the idea that people knew much more about me than I do, and everything I had about myself was insufficient. That moment my map was broken like a glass, one piece there the other piece somewhere else. Every time I tried to pick one up to connect the pieces, I was hurt by the realization that having everything in one piece in life was impossible. The pieces had their own minds, they changed, disoriented, and sometimes were lost against time.

It wasn’t insufficient knowledge that happened to me, but life happened. I lost control. I thought I could build my passions up like Frankenstein, but that was a whole evil process, and destroyed everything I knew about self. One day I would wake up as myself, the other day, I would feel like a man I read in a novel, who would look from a balcony and guess, what people did have in their chests.

We are strange uncharted beings. Everything feels like everything will destroy itself this century, but some centuries ago, a woman sat near a lake, and thought, “why am i here, in this life, will the lake tell me about it, or will I be as buried as others?”

It is always the same question.

The question must have an answer. (must it?)

There is no map of our strange beings.

There is a whole life when we turn the corner.

There is a whole nothing

At the corner

Telling About Your Life

Breathe in. Breathe Out.

Now sit down. Are you already? Why don’t you want to? Well…. okay, we can work things out the way you are. Wait. Don’t raise your hands like that. What is that sound? The one you make like a bee. It is not how we do? No, of course, no, sir, it is not about your physically doing so… no we don’t erase memories here. I can get you some water while you wait. It is about to… yes sir, it is. I am listening. yes, you can get you money back.

Imagine this. An old man comes to a rehabilitation center. He is concerned that he breathes faster than normal. He thinks he breathes like a baby, as if ready to stop breathing. The man made himself believe this. He meets a representative. The representative is a calm, slow talker kind of a person, one of the cheaters, the man thinks, but dresses and talks like a turtle. The cheater talks to him about his options, prices, oh money of course, the man whispers under his mustache. The man chooses the one about breathing. Or he thinks he chooses one about breathing. He fizzles in his seat. Like a bee? He is dizzy…death, probably death, but no, should not be a heart attack. Faster breathing that is. Yes, it has been going on, sir, for a week now. I live alone. NO! Sooory, but I do not like group nor therapies with them. I just need to. Okay. No medical conditions. No. Please. Can I sit and wait?

He sits, another turtle man approaches.

Breathe In. Breathe Out.

Now sit down….

The old man can not bear this. He hopes to drop dead. Not to get rid of pain, no. To show these coward turtles what it means to be this stupid. Ahh!… he rages in his heart. What would he give to see their faces…

Who’s Fault Was That?

The old man went to a rheab center, a place where fast-breather like him would not get a quick response. A rehab center is a place where people should calm down. But he were in a state of mindset, where he spent all of his patience in his house, breathing fast for a week, and imagining his death. Then he expected results in a slow-paced place like a rehab.

Like that old man, sometimes I feel too quick to get a response from people. I want them to understand me. Tell me the things that would heal me. I later get angry, too vicious sometimes, I start hating them.

People are like turtles in understanding. You need to take things of things in a slow pace, so they can keep up with you. That is the reason why we should not spend our lives with only one person, because whole life of a person is too huge to share. It is exhausting. We are too much for each other.

It is just that. It is just. Okay. You know what’s what!

Sometimes I feel like even I am too much for myself. Maybe it is that I am only one person who knows everything about myself. I am the old man with other people, they are too slow. Too simple. Not that I am not like them. But isn’t it impossible to tell about your whole life to someone, even if you share your life with her/him. Isn’t it impossible, even if you love that person more than life? Even if he/she loves you more than life?

We are all by ourselves. With our turtle understandings, the others too, are all by themselves.

EVERYBODY CALM WHAT DOWN?

Today, I died my hair to purple.

**I am like Anna Karenina changing her hair not out of love, but out of a pandemic.**
**(though both show kinds of similarities)**

One of the people who supposedly care about my anger issues told me that she found a psychiatrist for me. I have been through a lot, no? I am not. I will be honest with you. There are things I try not to think about.

I can’t think, I can’t sleep… I am anxious.

Coronovirus. It is something out of a movie, is it not? We might not have another visual class at my school, and since I was graduating, I might never have a philosophy class with my Italian professor, who by the way was a bit tired the last day. You know the feeling, like moving out of your nice house, you look back, and want to say goodbye. However, there are much serious things we have to consider first. Much serious? Like death, you idiout (this is like idiot but has a nicer saying id-i-yoot). Yes, this times make one think of death. And, honestly, if my roommates declare themselves vampires at this point, I promise, I will not use garlic on them. Life has its way with all of us lately.

(Just don’t fight too much
for we all are ferekn human )

EVERYBODY CALM WHAT DOWN? This is not appropriate to say, you guys. Yes, if to be honest, it reads stupid. People are tired of keeping their normal sneeze in because it can be understood as corona-sneeze. But, we should calm down, in a way like we should stop throwing toilet papers to each other to death. God, I do not understand why we can’t fight for something more dignified, you know. Shall it be toilet paper? well, always. People need it.

And, Uber. Stop sending me promotions. I really can’t right now. (though we had our times, love..)

You see fear in people’s face on markets. Like, I accidentally kind of walked on to a older person today, and he was terrified I would touch him. Sir, I have the greatests respects to you. On the other hand, fear should be fed with knowledge, too. For example, an older madam who took her time at the cashiers had her gloves, mask, hat (?). well, everything. I was like declaring her “she is saved” label until she touched her eyes with the gloves on. I heard glasses breaking in my head.

I feel kind of lucky because I read Blindness in this winter break. I am so paranoid, imagine, I thought I would go blind while reading. Now, I am like, “Netflix me.” Maybe people have the potential of adapting things more than they think.

Well. Stay safe. Don’t touch your face. Read Blindness or watch a documentary. It is just shocking how civilization isn’t actually what we learned at school, no?.

Fortunate or Unfortunate? Which One Are You?

Work, relationships, personal life… All those are in between the lines of success and failure. Even though everything has its balance in distribution, I think for many people the two lines of life has very asymmetric symmetry.

Some people are born with one line crossing their life more recognizable than the other one. When failure oppress success, we call a person unfortunate when the vice versa is fortunate. But have you ever considered how fortunate or unfortunate you are?

When it comes to questions like those, as always, we should categorize to determine things. Then let’s ask ourselves three short questions for our lives under the scale of 0-10. (Below 15 will be considered as unfortunate.)

1. Do you spend time on something you are passionate about? (learning a language, playing an instrument, hobbies…)

2. Are you free enough to decide for your own future? (decisions about major, kids, job, dreams, etc.)

3. Are you positive enough to enjoy your life and give gratitude? (happiness also can be considered as gratitude)

I believe these three major questions will be enough for a person to recognize where they are at in the state of life quality. My answers are: 1. 5 – 2. 6 – 3. 3 , so I am unfortunate at the scale of 14.

FEaR

Fear is in every one of us. Controls what we do, what we think, and what we feel. Fear is constant. It will not die out. Fear is a creature, a monster, a bug that under our skin, that we allow it’s crawling wherever it wants. Each day, we wake up with it, and each night we sleep from it as to escape. Then it will appear in our dreams, in its most clear forms. Like a flood, its terror takes us over. And it is hard to stop fear, the creature, the monster, the bug because we do not know about it: where it comes from, why it moves in our blood and minds; but the most important, what fear costs to us.

Sometimes I am not sure if I should wake up.

Fear is a creature, a monster, and a bug that under our skin, that grows bigger when we feed it. To control its size and power, we should know how to overcome of ourselves.

Fear is a greedy emotion that may vary in results. When we fear once, the mind wants more of it, then again, the more of it: because more fear equals more protection. Yet, that kind of fear is also creating a state of over-fear which defeats us. The tasks we describe as “I can not” is, in general, contains non-possibility because of fear. Even more, generally a “can’t” is a reaction to the fear of not achieving. In that state, being frightened of action is responded with no involvement at all, as drinking no coffees after a burnt or even imagining of a burnt is enough.

My fears break my heart. Maybe my heart should try once to break my fears.

For example, let’s imagine a situation where you need to climb a mountain. At the top of the mountain, you know there is a box full of emeralds which is a reward for the climber of it. But the mountain is too high: the time you look at it, you remember that you have fear of heights. Thinking the risks and results, a coward would see the mountain as thousands of mountains clumped on. But a fearless would seize the mountain as an opportunity. He would fear of not taking advantage of the mountain, which would lead him to determination and success. The difference doesn’t come from the existence of fear; it comes from the way the person leads it. So fear can be something that motivates us, but also something that prevents us from moving at all.

Maybe it is time to try something else than being scared all the time, huh?

The examples apply for our daily lives in accuracy. We, humans, are the most complicated creatures. I know that sometimes I fear failure and sometimes I fear success. But recently it occurred to me that fearing something takes much more time than actually facing it.

One Anxious Saturday

Today is Saturday. For many people, it means a nice breakfast with family, a good rest on the sofa, going out with friends, watching the favorite movie, and maybe studying for final exam at library.

I spend my Saturday, of 4th of May, staring at the ceiling, listening my neighbors non-ending murmurs, hating my roommate more than ever. Maybe, I think, I should go out. It is a sunny day of a beautiful weather. Yet, I can’t get myself to go get dressed and see people.

Staring at the window now, I changed my subject finally, I think of the things I will have to do this week which raises my heat and worries me. I’ll have to take two exams, take care of my students, make my sister happy, and try to start something for myself. I am worried. Maybe that is the reason why I have this crowded thoughts in my head. I think of everything and everything worries me.

I feel like talking to someone about this would not help. Talking to people, I give them a chance to talk about themselves. But today, I have no strength to listen.

I don’t know how to stop those feelings. How to overcome anxiety. Nothing helps. Maybe, I should go out and buy some ice cream. Maybe I should study for my exams. Maybe I should just stop doing anything. But maybe’s too worry me. Even more than other things.

Yes, I should go out and buy ice cream.