calling now

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– Ben bir kez istenilmediğimi fark ettim; o günden sonra hep kapıya yakın oturdum. – dedi şair, ve ekledi: – Kapıya kadar ittiler, sonra o kapıdan çıktım diye suçlu ilan ettiler. –

I hate how I cannot, try as I might, transcribe silence onto paper. Silence is the best I can voice how I’m feeling and what I want to say. It’s not an absence of feeling. I hear silence the loudest. But that silence cannot take full form because it’s the most intimate and vulnerable.

I write to express myself, but I don’t think even language can explain it. And when I’m not trying to put myself on paper, I try to escape into other stories. Funny enough, that doesn’t work either. I feel like a writer (how wrong it sounds) full of stories that are not mine (I can’t do them justice anyway), and stories I never finished because they were too mine.

And where does that land me? Again and again, I circle back to the familiarity of the clearest sound I hear.