It happened again. It happened again in summer.
I have written before, I hate summers. They are nothing but gloomy times for me. In the beginning of this summer, I thought it would be different. I’ll admit it, I failed. This summer is just as gloomy as past summers. This time, it is not only because of my personal life, which is a total mess. This time Turkey, my homeland, has the large share in my depression.
Last night, my close friend and I were watching a horror movie about a vampire girl who lives in a northern European country and sobs when she kills her victims. My friend said she wouldn’t continue watching the movie, and took off. It was 9.30pm. And I thought myself, I would surf the net, fall asleep, and wake up to an awesome week. I had planned it all. I would wake up at 6 am, go to the gym, and start working at 9am. I would finish all the unfinished projects, which literally needed one or two working days of focus. I clicked on one of the news portals. It all started there, and it is not going away.
In the last 24 hours, one of Turkey’s MPs was kidnapped by a terrorist organization. A policeman shot a citizen almost for no reason in the daylight, while the cameras were recording, and he just walked away. The spokesperson of the ruling party denied recalling the members of the parliament to debate the civil war. (Yes, admit it, it is a civil war!) And my favorite columnist of all times was denied his freedom of speech in his column, resulting his abrupt resignation from the newspaper.
Given the conditions, I couldn’t find peace, and sleep rejected me. I couldn’t sleep the whole night; I watched a stupid show on the Internet just to fall asleep. It didn’t work. I will not deny the fact that my life is currently a total mess, but I personally feel ashamed of whining about it when all these terrible things happen in my country.
At those moments, the moments of finding myself in total awe and frustration about the geography where my best memories about life and love took place, I ask myself: Has it always been such or is it me who is becoming more aware every time? I remember the first time I asked such a question: It was the freshman year at high school, and I was an ardent admirer of “Western countries.” I had read “A Tale of Two Cities,” and asked at the conclusion of my book presentation whether the filth of Dickens’ times was long gone or had it transformed into something else along the years. My literature teacher answered: “You will find your answer later in life.” As in many other instances, he was damn right. Nothing bad goes away from the surface of earth. They just transform into other things.
I personally feel the same for my life. The moment you think you are over someone, the moment you think the pain of love is gone and you are all healed, it all comes back in another form. My take on life is “Never celebrate the passing of a bad thing, Just prepare yourself for another form of it.”
The pain is no stranger to Turkey’s geography, either. Nothing was better 10 years ago, they were just worse in other terms. Pain seems to be the fuel of not only gloomy literature people but it is also a substantial medium in politics and history. It just changes shape; the essence is the same.
Given the situation, my biggest regret in life emerges: I wish I had become one of those party animals when I had the chance. I wish I was one of those people who would hear the news while drinking his second mojito in a Cesme beach club in the afternoon. I am not blaming anyone, I am just blaming myself.
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