Stay or Leave

I have two choices, two decisions I am obliged to make:
The one is staying in Ankara, and the other one is leaving Ankara.

What the hell shall I do?

The song of Linkin Park ''Don't Stay'' I remember at this very moment suddenly.

Like everybody else, I, also, want to live in comfort. Without the extacy of stress. Without its evil effects on me, though living in Istanbul -seeing its fucking car traffic, and the mass of human flesh- might make me feel very depressed, nervous, and, maybe, a paranoid. I just have no idea.

So, I should seek for other pleasant things in Isyanbul. I thought, I did well think about them actually. Again and again. It makes me go no place. Actually, I am very curious about the things that will happen-occur if I am not unable to seetle in the University of Istanbul.

''I should not fail to forget remembering the ideas and the happenings. I have gone through them bi-weekly.''

Flow of ideas...

I have a headache by the way. Even though I have this sickness, I have to utter that I crave for listening music in that very mood. I adore reading the magazines Penguen and Uykusuz.

I am actually not so happy for leaving Volkan, Akın, Gizem, Ecem, Duygu the sister, Devrim, Fahri, and Deniz behind. -I would like to jot his name, also, Trevor, but he has just left me, he has already done that. Already!

There the others I am actually happy for leaving and not wanting to see them never again. He he. Anyway, I hope always that no one, no animal, no plant be mad at me in no circumstance. I am a peaceful one, or the one trying desperately to be a peaceful one. However, the ones, whom god gave them the ability to think, all are unable to be successful in front of me generally. Sorry for them. ''Really''.

I want to be drunk all the time, but without consuming any liquor including alcohol. Really, I pay for any cost for the state of mind of a drunk person. Five special beers? Here they are sir, 14.50 Turkish Liras. I would pay, I would, I...

I, also, have just become conscious about the craving feelings for a cigarette, or in other words, about the ugly truth.

Ugly.

I know it is ugly. I think it is ugly. I assume that it is ugly. Disgusting, and the person who makes ugly things with knowing that he does without fucking shame he is ugly, as well. Besides, its ugliness it is very harmful. It smells fucking awful.

The holly charisma always has its dangers, hasn't it?

These days I feel myself shallow and feelingless, and I don't get why I do.
I have some theories in my mind, though maybe it is due to my conscience I've felt myself really bad after learning that there falling, not espected by some, results of my exams. It is sad enough. However, contuniation or occurence of such thing will not appear thanks to my reaction, I hope.

I, again, say that I wish the Faculty of Letters of the University of Ankara situated in Insanbul. I, though having read a lot of things against the idea, like, and get lots of satisfaction from, using the word ''If Only''.

Inside my shell I wait and bleed, but I am also happy in it with my darkness and silence.

Sincerely. Lovely.