leaving istanbul

i have to say so many goodbyes. although "it's not goodbye, it's see you later", when is that "later" and what is the equivalent of waking up to a spring sunday to walk down to bebek through the school heading towards the sea? what is the equivalent of the blue that changes its color every day? i have yet to find the answers. but i'm out searching.
instead of waiting.

i quit my job and my furniture is for sale.
my challenge is to part with the objects i accumulated through the years. (objects that help you define yourself)
maybe the space that opens up i can fill with knowledge and brand new experiences.
see the thing is,
i'm at a point in my life where i need to focus on something, and i have been searching for that focus for a while. and it was right inside of me, beside me, behind me. all these years.


Anonymous said…
It's exactly like Joyce says, "But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad."
s. said…
and i second that quote...
i have been on the road for 9 years now, first from denizli to ankara, then saskatoon, then toronto, with many oscilliations in between. have accumulated a lot of memories and books and beads. by the time i was moving to canada i had accumulated many many books, diaries, and beads...i left all of them at different places: some at my sisters', some at Irem's, some at my mom's in Denizli...each time i go back to any of those places I stare and stare at those books, little Serife's handwritings, the beads and the memories...it is hard not to form attachment with the objects...one part of me loves exploring the other enjoys my coffee mug from New York...yet, when i look back it all, i say to myself, maybe my life is becoming a story worth reading...i am happy after all...your words are your home and you can take them along with you...pelit, other lands are waiting for you in the horizon...magic is real...me and toronto for instance are looking forward to the day you'll be visiting us:or even maybe you'll be in New York and I can take the train to come and see you...do not fear, you are you, so what is the worse thing that can happen!!
Serife, so much sincerity, covers me so warmly. I feel like there is nothing I can't do when you say these things, plus, you're right, what's the worst thing that can happen as long as I'm, well, me?

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