Ben melankolik şiir yazıyorum canım sıkkınken ama onu da özgün bir şekilde yapamıyorum genelde Ümit Yaşar Oğuzcan dan esinlenerek yazıyorum
İstersen paylaş anon, zaten anonimiz. Ümit Yaşar Oğuzcan'ın Galata Kulesi ve Bir Gece Ansızın Gelebilirim şiirlerini severim, ikincisini Kıbrıs Barış Harekatı hikayesi olsun, Türkiye'nin yarım asırlık operasyon parolası haline gelmiş olması olsun, şarkı hali olsun ayrı severim.
İki kez kısa hikaye yazmıştım ingilizce olarak. Paylaşacak yer bulamayınca sildim.
Tarzan ingilizcesiyle de bir yere kadar oluyor tabii. Bir de o var.
zamanında yazmıştım birşeyler. In this ordinary day that just passed by, nothing exciting or extraordinary happened. I spoke only because of an inexplicable impulse. But what's the point of talking when the conversation is so mundane and pointless? He kept promising me a life I've never lived before, but I've grown used to these empty promises. I tried to explain the value of suffering and the importance of seemingly unnecessary people, but he wasn't interested. He only emphasized the inevitability of our actions, and I couldn't help but believe him. Is the entire world wrong? Perhaps, but his words hold more power than any fairy tale or comforting agent I've encountered.
I wake up every day and look at myself in the mirror, questioning the purpose of it all. Staring at my reflection without any change seems as absurd as repeatedly checking my weight on the same day. It's like watching a movie or reading a book right after finishing it. Time feels wasted, and the cycle of monotony repeats itself.
I've accepted my place in this world and the inevitability of life's mechanical flow. I'm merely a cog in the wheel, a sign of life's cyclical nature. This realization should alarm every organic machine - the fact that we are mere products of our environment and circumstances.
My days are painless and uneventful, but I should be the happy son of an unhappy father, ready to destroy everything in my path. I should use my power to become an independent partner of the ore, to live without succumbing to the emerging oppression. Only then can I fearlessly sacrifice myself for the future I hope to achieve.
Living in the present moment is crucial, but it requires an acceptance of the infinite whole. The pleasure of living is found behind the miraculous, and I now realize the honor in even the lowliest of creatures. My identity is defined by the sacrifices of my mother and the docility of my calf. This is my position, my title, my manifestation.