TE16 Turkish Delight

Zeynep Çolakğlu you do not or cannot communicate? Is the crowd those who live your life with you, whose gaze locks inside you, those affect your decisions, owners of the invisible chains that you limit your life by thinking of them -perhaps to anger yourself- even when they aren’t around? According to Indian beliefs, the universe is weaved with air and human life with breath called prana . It was as if the first of those five pranas that everything runs along in balance was blocked in me, and my body wasn’t accepting the breath that would circle inside. I started to think that this breathlessness might be related to the pressure of the space on me, for things weren’t going good at the moorland. Inside me, storms that I couldn’t make sense of weren’t ceasing. There was something… A voice, a gaze… I couldn’t understand what was going on, but it was impossible to stop it… It was a presence, ceaselessly burning in flames inside me. Whenever it got hold of my gaze, I would change. After my transformation, I would be cast out of the society due to torn and broken relations and all the immoral behaviors I dared to exhibit. People around me were constantly changing, because the time people can put up with me was shortening gradually. There were only a few people I was messaging with. I didn’t even know one of them; he was writing me under the nick of “Oblivion,” and every time, he was shaking my world with the impressive songs he sent me. I guess the last he had sent Abel Korzeniowski’s Nocturnal Animals . With another one, we were just communicating through photographs. His language was black and white nature photographs he were taking, and his nick was “Nada”. I was responding his every photograph in writing and got a reply with another photograph. The Dogma’s A Good 246