ama konuşmak hep zor

uyumadan önce kendime konuşuyorum uzun uzun. buraya yazdığımı, bu boşluğu saatlerce bir hırsla doldurduğumu düşünüyorum. merhaba merhaba merhaba. benim anlatacaklarım var diyorum.

uykuya dalıyorum. kalkınca buraya yazamıyorum. 

varlığımı sürekli kaygının ellerine bırakıp gidiyorum. arkasından ağlıyorum her şeyin. kurtulmak istediğimi söylüyorum. inanmıyorum bir şeylerin -şimdilik- iyi gelebileceğine. iç sesimi dinlemeye çok çaba harcadım. kendime özgün bir insan olmak istedim. en sonunda ne istediğimi anlayamaz oldum. garibime gidiyor. hiçbir şey bilmemek. istekten yoksun olmak. bir şeyi istemenin ucundan bile olsa panik yaratması, krizleşmesi, uzun uykuyla sönmesi. anlamıyorum. elimden bir şey gelmiyor. birilerine bunu anlattığımda elimden tutmalarını, bana sarılmalarını ve sihirli değnekleriyle her şeyi düzeltmelerini bekliyorum. o da olmuyor. 

başka şeyleri deneyelim. 

mezun oldum. mağusa'dan girne'ye, aile evine taşındım yine. dört senedir burada bana ait çok az eşya vardı, nasıl bir salaklıksa, tüm hayatımı mağusa'ya taşımışım. en gereksiz şeylere kadar. duvardan posterleri, fotoğrafları alıp kaldırmak zor olmuştu ilk. o odayı benim için bir dünya yapmışlardı. bu gece sonunda iki poster, bir fotoğraf, bir de "tofu guys don't eat meat" kağıdını astım yatağımın üstüne. suspiria ve persona koydum. bi de mırmır fotosu. yakıştı. dünyam. 

evde değişik yemekler yapmayı özlemişim. mağusa'da en sevdiğim şey mantar ve pilav pişirmekti. mantarları türlü türlü soslara bulayıp kızartmak, patlayıncaya kadar yemek. sonra kaynar bir çay ile akıtmak. oh zehracım. dört buçuk senedir veganım, halen daha babam arada dalga geçiyor. annem ise bazı şeyleri "et" alternatifi olarak kafasında belirlemeye devam ediyor.

çok daha az müzik dinlediğimi fark ettim. dört kişi yaşadığımız şu alanda sürekli iletişim halinde olunca kulaklık takmak aklıma pek gelmiyor. şimdi canım çekti, çantamdan kulaklığımı aldım. moderat dinliyorum. geçen gün sevgilim önerdi diye türk bi komedyenin podcast'ini dinledim. sanırım şu veganlara sallayan çocuktu. tam hatırlayamadım. ben alınmamıştım dediklerine galiba o kadar. podcast dinlemekten aşşırı da aşşırı hoşlaşmadığımı fark ettim. odaklanamıyorum o kadar. 

bahçe işinden parmaklarım aşındı biraz. yarın ağır işlerin -umuyorum- son günü. sonrası sulama işleri, sebze meyve toplama ile geçecek belki. bahçeden türlü türlü şeyler çıkıyor, annem hepsinin turşusunu kuruyor. bereket. ot sökerken arada kendiliğinden biten bir sürü semizotu buldum, kaç zamandır canım çekiyordu. ıspanağa benzetiyorum biraz tadını, onu geçen yedik mutlu oldum. belki yarın veya öbür gün güzel bir semizotu yemeği yaparım. 

uzun zamandır bu kadar geç vakte kadar ayakta kalmamıştım. bi de sevgilime tamam yea erken uyuyorum zaten dedim. sanırım kahveden böyle oldu, bu kadar da ayakta tutacağına inanmamıştım doğrusu. erken uyanmaya çalışıyorum. günü yiyince içim acıyor. aman sanki çok dolu yaşıyorum ya.

ama konuşmak hep zor.

moderat - versions

Swim, Swim Some More,Then Drown in It

It's something we all have I think; to fear what is to come. No no, I don't mean the virus. Something that runs deeper, the future.

I never prepared for my undergraduate studies. I just went on with my A Levels, and UCAS applications. Then when the time to go to university came, I had nothing. Not having a back-up got me up the bum (sorry). It was basically this: I either got what I wanted or I didn't. The in-between wasn't acceptable. I was not supposed to go somewhere and be miserable over (which is exactly what happened to me in the past four years I have spent in Famagusta).

This year, I am to graduate from my bachelor's studies, from mechanical engineering. It's, once again, the time to decide on things, to apply for things, to act on things. Things, FUCKING things. I always hated institutionalised education, and never in my life had a day of work experience (does Team Ada count? No? Okay). Am I to go on to a masters degree? Work? Where and in what condition to work? If I seek a masters degree, is it going to be worth it? Am I to add on anything? Do I have a place in the academy afterwards? PhD? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

What?

Phil France has this instrumental piece, The Swimmer. Gets me wishing for summer. Never had a taste for it in the past, summer is for people who enjoy.. being. Everything is exhausting, and everything is demanding. The thought of swimming is funny. I got nausea the last few times I went because I got so hooked up on the movement of water around me. Swim, swim some more, then drown in it.

Hey

This is a shitty blog
It's my diary
Though it's not that personal
Nothing is really THAT personal

I am violent,
and this is where this shit writing ends
- till next swim

Justine, Favourite Bits

"A city becomes a world when one loves one of its inhabitants" writes Durrell, in the first book of the famous Alexandria Quartet, Justine.

We take a peek at this history ridden city and its characters. I wanted to write up some of my favourite bits from the book, to have them permanently lying here. It is upsetting, but the book is from my university's library and I am to return it back if I ever wish to graduate and leave.

"At this she put out her hand and placed it on mine while she laughed, wrinkling up her nose: laughing with such candour, so lightly and effortlessly, that there and then I decided to love her." p.55

"..what I lack of heart I make up in soul." 

"If this was love then it was a variety of the plant which I have never seen before." p.66

"It is hard to fight with one's heart's desire; whatever it wishes to get, it purchases at the cost of soul." p.87

"There was something exhausting and perverting about loving so well and yet loving so little." p.112

"I saw that pain itself was the only food of memory: for pleasure ends in itself - all they had bequeathed me was a fund of permanent health - life-giving detachment." p.160

and on a page, there was a short paragraph on the ends of Mediterranean.. mentioning Cyprus, Salamis.. i would like to keep that for myself.

Until next time
Zehra

Smashed Your Head, Made It All Juice

Smashed your head, made it all juice in my dream last night. I didn't know your bones were this weak, and that you would be all a million pieces of bones and broth under car tires. I wanted to change them all up as soon as I ran over you.

I was walking home one winter evening, thinking of all the ways I could hurt you physically without getting the authorities involved. I craved of harming you, ejaculating in anger, satisfaction in agony. There is, after all, pleasure in dominance. I hated your bangs, your smile, the sound of you laughing passing through all my insides.

Anger that is not acted upon is worthy of applause. I managed it! I didn't actually smash any heads (would probably do it if getting caught wasn't an issue - jokes - or really).

Fuck you. Oh, I have dreamt of it, too.

I hated the way I was replaced, like my existence was made into some tasteless memory, as of a dream.

Fuck you. I wish your head was smashed and made into all juice.



Maybe I am a highly violent human. Just not towards non-human animals. I love animals. Go vegan.

Fuck off, you suck

No Harm Done

I have a new worst fear: causing harm. I don't mean it physically (if you know me you know I'm very weak). I don't want to be this toxic, problematic person. Where does this fear come from though?

It may have been started from this past relationship of mine, where I was dating this guy who was emotionally (and at times at minor levels, physically) abusing me. He would never tell me anything and would like to know everything regarding myself. Very jealous of my closest friends, highly homophobic (didn't know I was interested in women, too) and other shit characteristics as well. To this day, I can't answer the question "Why did you spend so much time with this guy?". Maybe I was naive, and a bit lazy to move on from one person to another.

Anyways, we would fight about a lot of things and none of our hangouts were ever peaceful. One time we came close, after spending an entire evening eating vegan food, ice cream, walking around the city.. then by the time it was to drop me home, a sudden argument came up and I found myself sitting on the pavement, being sad about never having a time without bitterness involved. It was so clooooose to be regarded as one of the best dates I have ever been on, I mean yes, he was a shit person but it was a date on which I ate ice cream. Mulberry ice cream. Also, vegan pizza. Come on peeps, come on.

At least, the above story is the beginning of it all as far as it goes.

The saga continued with a few more people, more arguments and break-ups (eventually). I may have come across with abusive, toxic, problematic people but it gets me thinking.. what if I was the person who was like that all along? The one who got them falling out of love with me, saying bad words to me, leaving?  What if I am the source of all this harm I thought they brought upon me?

More importantly, what if I keep on imposing all these on the one person I plan on building a future with?

I'm weak. Not just physically. I would be crushed under the weight of seeing people I love suffer over my madness. Should someone like me force their chances on love, and being around people? Maybe solitude serves better.

I should know about it soon.

Non-linear

When I went to the psychologist this summer, I thought my recovery from the crippling anxiety would be a linear one. Day by day better, and never relapsing in between. However, the truth couldn't be more opposite. I remember the first time I cried after I had my first session. It was on the balcony, sitting by myself, drinking tea perhaps. I felt so guilty of it. Ashamed of my thoughts and the expressions of them. It took some time to adjust to it.

Probably what I've learnt over each session helped, and acknowledging what I knew did its own trick too. For example, normally, I didn't recognise crying as a weakness but a simple expression of what was going on inside. It would be only helpful to me, to recognise that. 

Second of all, I came to this daring truth as told by my psychologist: nothing I want would go as I wanted them to. This is what we should all live by; accepting the course of things. It's not as easy as it sounds, and that's a first hand experience. 

So this all brings me to the past week. A relapse, an unravelling. When I'm at my worst, what happens is I become all to sensitive to the world around me. Any light would bother me, any sound would annoy me. I listened to about 47,000 minutes of music last year and that was just to block the outer space. Not that I don't appreciate good music and new dimensions but, my motivation was to calm down. Earphones in, doors shut, and hiding under layers of bed cover. This is last week. This, was summer (minus the layers of bed covers).

In this non-linearity of mine, thankfully I had the best friends one could ever ask for. Whom I could relentlessly share my inner demons with, whom I could laugh to random stuff with. That was that. I watched Two and a Half Men over again in this period (how much could someone get caught up in watching things?), finished two more series and wrote countless drafts here. 

And in this non-linearity there was this person recognising my 'problems' (his wording), and that my problems were of no different than an ankle twist to him, they all required the same attention. It was no reason to leave someone alone. It was no reason to deem me unhealthy although sometimes it made my means of communication that way.

To sum it all, recovery from whatever you are having will not be linear. It's best to go with it. 

dreamt of you the other night

apparently you have started photography again, trying different things with your camera here and there. somehow we talk and you ask me "are you in the camera's range?", maybe you want to see if we are in the same city or not. i reply, "i am in your shooting range, but not that of your camera's".