October 29, 2025, Wednesday.
Riverside, California.

Let me write while I have the time. Sometimes you go a long time without being able to spare 5 minutes for a pen and notebook.

The worst part about being a rookie (on the forum/dictionary) is that the save button doesn’t work. Saving drafts to the side is one of the most important features of the dictionary. That way, you can read what you wrote and correct spelling mistakes, for example.

Well, you can’t do this when you’re a rookie. Otherwise, I could have stayed a rookie for life. No big deal.

My goal is to empty my mind and relax. I could have a hundred thousand goals, but this is one of the most important ones.

I kill time with Sergen Yalçın and Beşiktaş videos. Beşiktaş is a beautiful team. Their colors are beautiful, for one: black and white. Yellow-navy or yellow-red makes me feel like something is missing. A void forms inside me. But black and white feels like it can express absolutely everything.

Maybe I have psychological problems. Of course, one shouldn’t attach this much meaning to colors.

On the one hand, the fact that Beşiktaş is always in a tough spot creates excitement too. I wonder, will they be able to succeed? If you’re a Galatasaray fan, it’s kind of boring. You’re always the champion. If you’re a Fenerbahçe fan, it’s like there are always rich people there.

Beşiktaş isn’t poor either. For one, as a neighborhood, it’s a rich neighborhood. Right? It’s Beşiktaş, after all. God knows how much the rents are.

What I remember are the times with Mrmic. Since I’m an ’88 baby, I remember Mrmic, Recep, Alpay, Ertuğrul, Sergen, Oktay, Mehmet, Amokachi. We loved Beşiktaş with them. At that time, Galatasaray had Volkan in goal, I think, if I remember correctly. Fenerbahçe had Okocha and Uche. For a while, there was the Dane Hogh next to Uche, I think. Bolic was there. Then Balic came too. Galatasaray had the Hakans too. Big Hakan, little Hakan.

Anyway, they were beautiful times. We were kids. We had no worries or troubles. Life was beautiful to us. We weren’t even aware that they were our most beautiful days anyway. Just like right now we aren’t aware that we are living the most beautiful moments of the rest of our lives.

How amazing, actually. Every moment you live is the most beautiful moment of the rest of your life. Looking at it like this, one should actually be tremendously joyful every minute. Because as time passes, problems multiply. For one thing, your body ages and breaks down constantly. If you complain about your legs today, your arms will be added to it tomorrow. The day after you complain about both, your kidney will be added to them. Your pains will never decrease. They will multiply even more every day. You can’t resist nature. If you piss against the wind, you’ll be the one who comes out harmed.

There is a girl with red hair, green eyes, big boobs, short stature, and a chubby butt in my imagination. However, I don’t keep her there for too long. “I can’t glorify her in my eyes because she takes a shit too.” (Ceza).

But if she didn’t shit, I could have fallen in love with her. I’d want to worship her. Fall at her feet. Lick between her toes. I’d want to beg her to have mercy on me. Obviously, God is a necessity.

I met an escort who fit this description years ago. Then the girl quit being an escort. I was devastated when she quit. Even now, I think and think and get devastated realizing I can never be her client again. I begged, I wanted her to make an exception for me, I offered double, triple the money, but she didn’t accept.

I sent money for a long time expecting nothing in return too. Meaning, a hope inside me, the hope that maybe one day we could be together one more time. But that hope diminished and ended too. I ended up sending money just like that. A few thousand dollars went to waste. Oh well. That few thousand dollars was the price of that hope. I wish I had a hope so I could spend money on it. Not having hope is a greater poverty.

She doesn’t have a boyfriend or anything either. Today is her mom’s birthday. I bought her a gift using this as an excuse. She thanked me. She was happy. She complimented me, saying “you are so good, you are so sweet,” but oh well. She is far away, of course. If we were side by side, maybe she would have taken pity. Maybe we would have slept closely together for one more night.

I like being platonically in love like this. The number of girls I’m platonically in love with like this isn’t one, it isn’t two. The money I waste keeps multiplying. On one hand, debt is grabbing me by the ass, on the other hand, I’m throwing money in the trash.

If only I had a girlfriend in Mexico, one in Turkey, one in Russia, one in Japan, one in Colombia, one in Kenya, for example. How beautiful it would be. A fresh, young, innocent beauty at the age of 18 from every race. If only all of their boobs were a bit big too. Both young and big-boobed.

Yet I watch Bella Gray. She’s turned 29 but she still has a teenage cuteness to her. Her boobies are tiny but still cute. I don’t know now. Girls are so beautiful, man. The only beautiful thing about life is girls. However, even for them, it’s not worth living.

The most beautiful thing is death. Then girls. I mean, the most beautiful thing is dying, but if we absolutely must live, I mean we’re fucking living it whether we want to or not, well then the most beautiful thing in this life is girls.

That’s why I am grateful for adult films. If it weren’t for them, it wouldn’t be possible to see this many beautiful girls stark naked, making love. And from every race. And all of them young, 18 years old, fresh, innocent, and beautiful. Even though some have small tatas and some have big tatas, they all taste different, they all taste beautiful.

Fruits, and girls, are delicious like this. Right now I’m craving apples, pears, quince, pomegranates, peaches, apricots, watermelon, melon, strawberries, mulberries, grapes, cherries, for example. How delicious is each one of them, right? Just like Russian, Japanese, Kenyan, Turkish, Brazilian, Swedish, Chinese, Colombian girls.

“Life is cruel, poor, and ruthless to some people.” (Rafet El Roman).