2022.

2022.

the year that is ending in less than an hour;

year that felt as long as the feeling of my entire childhood;

year that my heart got more cracks;

year that i tried so hard, so many times;

year i had to let go;

year that tired my soul and left it confused;

year I fell apart and kept together;

year i learnt to care for myself;

year i took a leap into unknown;

year i am still making sense out of...

Just now, while I’m sitting in my pretty new apartment, in a new country, with a new job, all alone at New year’s eve surrounded by muffled sounds of fireworks that I realize - how deeply alone one can feel when there are no distracting playlists or lengthy podcasts to keep company, no friend on the line that makes the rooms of the apartment feel less empty for a little while...

I’ve always lived alone if I think about it, it’s just this time - alone feels lonely. 

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“Everything we do, in art or in life, is the imperfect copy of what we intended. It betrays both the external and internal ideals of perfection; it fails not only our concept of what it should have been, but also of what it could have been. We are hollow inside and out, pariahs of anticipation and promise.”

— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

So children don’t get traumatized because they get hurt.

Children get traumatized because they’re alone with the hurt.

- Gábor Máté, The Wisdom of Trauma

"La tristesse durera toujours."

(Hüzün daima baki kalacak.)

~Vincent Van Gogh~