in my room
i'm listening to imogen heap's new single -or a song of hers that's new to me- 'speeding cars'. i just got home, and my weekend was perfectly fine, thank you. especially, the sunday breakfast. i wonder if there's anything that can replace the peacefulness in the combination of those ordinary ingredients of my breakfast- tomatoes, cheese, olive oil, whole grain bread, honey. and here's me smiling on a sunday of 2 years ago. something in my face is different now.
oh, and the pictures behind. well there's one of my dad skiing, one of marlon brando, mini me kissing grandparents on cheeks, me on the stage, us by the bosphorus, us in fethiye, and some more. i sometimes wake up in the morning and stare at them, each time wondering who i was as a child. sometimes i ignore their presence, like all the things we own and see everyday. the stimulus fading out through repetitive exposure. we always sacrifice the excitement of the first-time to arrive at the lazy calm of the everyday. for the sake of coming home to someplace, someone.