
– 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.
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I’m comfortable to say that I’m a blogger than calling myself a writer coz I feel like the latter is so professional 🤩 besides, I only write about my life and not about academic.
Silence! I always like that, but my mind wander always 😁
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I guess why I picked that term is because it’s more of an umbrella term for the writing trajectory throughout my life. I did write stories, articles, novels, and academic papers, blogging being my latest. I used the term in the most literal sense as someone who writes (whatever that may be). But yes, it is tricky when it’s also a term for a profession. 😅
Mine too, it’s just that it always goes somewhere where language can’t reach.
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Yeah, tricky one for me.😁 Just my perspective. But, that word belongs to all who write indeed. The problem is the one who reads or interprets.🤩🤭
If we let our mind, nah, it’s limitless.😁
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That’s right! 🤭 Oh, the wanders of our minds!
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Sometimes, fun/good, sometimes not. What a combination 😁
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And everything in between! 😅
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There’s something so painfully beautiful about this. 🤍 Some feelings are too intimate for words and perhaps that’s why silence becomes the only language that truly understands us.🦋✨
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Thank you! 🤍 I keep going back to that same topic.
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I like the word “writer” for its neutrality (or maybe it’s just English that feels neutral to me, I don’t know), unlike its counterparts in other languages I know that often specifically refer to literary writers, which is a huge claim 😅. The struggle to explain oneself is so real. It’s like someone trying to contain their thoughts but failing, so they cheat a bit and turn them into something else that’s easier to name. I also write a lot of random stories. They’re something of an internal cipher for me.
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It feels completely neutral in English to me, too. Because I couldn’t use it so freely or generally in my language. But I’m definitely not touching on the “literary writers” title. Let me sit back down. 😅
Exactly! It’s like a failed attempt at alchemy, but I do end up with a… something. It’s just not quite what it’s supposed to be, so I’m left with this new product that simply has to suffice.
I love your writing, by the way! Your short stories or posts. There’s something about it… It has a beautiful rhythm.
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I feel like silence describes a lot of my feelings too, and I compensate for my “lack” of sound by trying to write more and for longer periods of time. Maybe that is a big commonality between writers
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Do you try to pry that silence open when you say you write more, like, do you write about your feelings, or do you turn to fiction in the meantime? Because that silence can transform beautifully in a fictional environment. I find that when I try to “express silence”, though, I write nonsense 😅
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they say that silence is golden 😀
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and i agree!! 😄
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