An hour of the evening, I walked around the streets of Ankara. I started to chill under the influence of the cool air. The wind was hitting me hardly. It was simple but boring.
The rumble of the day was scattered and delivered to a relatively quiet evening. I was walking along the streets trying to listen to all the sound in my mind. Then I was falling into a deep vortex. I felt like I was living in the darkest places in this city.
I did not return home despite the hours. I was just waiting for a hot bed. Maybe I should eat, but who cares. Because the streets belonged to cats and lonely souls like me now.
I've been thinking about "living" for a while. I had no idea what it would be like to breathe in all those dreams created while wandering the cold streets. In the daytime I was just writing articles. It was all that. And that led me to question what life was like. In fact, one of the biggest recommendations I could give to people would be "do not question". My doctor taught me that, and I was trying to tell it to other people. Maybe I'm wrong. Did I have to keep some things in me? I did not know.
I've been trying to breathe for the last few days. I could not write as much as I used to, and I could not think. My mind is empty and dark. Like a deep well; There is enough water to remove my thirst, but I cannot reach him.