Il mestiere di vivere

erken baslayanlar mi hayata yorulurdu en basta? farkinda olmaksizin cilesini ceken insanlarin yolu aslinda ermislige dogru kivrim kivrim kivriliyor muydu da bazilarimizin basina gelen her sey sirf onlar o yola girsinler diye mi geliyordu merak ederim bazen. cunku kendimi de hep onlardan biri sandim ben ezelden... erken kalkan yol alirmis da peki erken yol alan erken mi tukenirdi bunu kimseler soylemedi. muhakkak oyleydi yoksa gencecik bedenlerin altinda siziyan ruhlar boyle halsiz ve buruk, pariltisi yitip gitmis kalmazdi. hayat enerjisi insanin tohumuna serpilmis ve dogumdan itibaren icinde giderek buyuyen bir cevher miydi de acilarla, uzuntulerle, kirginliklar ve yorgunluklarla karsilastikca eskiyip dokulmeye baslasin ve nihayetinde tukenip yok olsun? oyleyse ne zaman bu isik sonmeye baslardi insanin icinde, umudumuz yitince mi; bir daha kalkamayacagina inanarak dusunce mi yoksa ilk kez kadere ictenlikle isyan edince mi? evet bazilarimiz bizim simdi gectigimiz yollari duble yola cevi

every competition is unfair. no matter what the rules and whoever the players are. it is such a useless effort to try to regulate the market, while you don't even have a fair game at all. the thing is, every game in life that has been played by human beings is a zero-sum game which always favours the enthusiasm of the winners. thus, there needs to be a loser in every game to satisfy the winners not only that but also to satisfy the conditions of the game. because it is a pitcher filled by winners, it brims over with one tiny little drop of loser's surplus. life is all about competition. all about the games without rules. I wish there would be an authority that could regulate our lives when they realise that the conditions of the competition are distorted somehow in us.  déformation professionnelle ! well, this is not just solely about ourselves but rather the life. whatever we do, we engage in some sort of competition by the time we get involved in a relationship with other pe

sonunda anladim. ben sevilmek degil sevmek istiyordum, buydu ruhumu doyuran, canima can katan. cunku severken kendi okyanusumun derinliklerine inebiliyordum ancak, el degmemis mercanlar kesfediyordum oralarda; sesi duyulmamis benler vardi asagilarda. yillarca benden biriktirdigim her sey en dibe oturmus bir hazine sandigi gibi bekliyordu kapagini actiracak bir adamin gelmesini, hissetmesini icimde sakli kalanlarin mevcudiyetini; sonra korkusuzca dalabilmesini soguk sulara. oyle ki severken ben de yeniden taniyordum kendimi ve her seferinde tekrar asik oluyordum; fakat bu sefer kendime. sevme kudretinden nasibini almis yuregimin inceliklerine sasip kaliyordum ya, sirf bu yuzden her askta bir baskaydim ben. bundandi belki de hayatima giren erkeklerin kapanan kapilarimin arasina ayaklarini sikistirmalari her defasinda. herkes boylesine sevilmek isterdi elbette. evet, bir isik huzmesi iner gibi aydinlaniyor adeta icime bakisim; ben meger sevdigime degil sevmeye asikmisim. hah, Lord Byron d

... are they happy? you mean..? people around the world ... I mean right now, just now? maybe are they alone? some. still happy? maybe and the others? maybe why would they be happy? they inherently have it have what? happiness, you don't earn happiness, you're born with it what about us? what about you? I've never been happy never? I've never felt it inside me growing, but rather it came suddenly and disappeared soon after happiness doesn't grow anyway, it's just happiness. either there, or not. what if it doesn't exist anyway? it does. what else would it be? just the absence of grief.