November 17, 2025, Monday.
Buffalo, New York.
You are always the lights in the eyes of truckers who have grown massive due to their profession. You shine in the distance. Even if you don’t properly illuminate your surroundings, you are still a hope for those who live alone. If we are in trouble, we take refuge in you.
There are deer by the side of the road. One of them will get crushed under the truck shortly. There are deer by the side of the road. Deer with beautiful eyes, beautiful noses, beautiful tails. Just like Kübra. Kübra has beautiful eyes, a beautiful nose too. Even though she doesn’t have a tail, she has a beautiful butt, if I may say so.
Last week was the most profitable of weeks. I earned more than three thousand dollars in a week. The Christmas season has started to make itself felt. The sultan of eleven months starts in November across the ocean. You’re going to sell whatever you can sell from Black Friday to Christmas.
My debts will decrease a little more. When Mesut also pays his debt to me in January, my debts will decrease much more after that. And Tuğrul needs to pay six thousand dollars, but it will take him two and a half years to finish that payment. He will make the payments to my sister. Fifty dollars every week. God bless. If he doesn’t default, of course. He should go out of his way and pay it, right? Such an installment plan has never been seen.
I keep gifting a thousand liras to sweet sweet girls. They might only drink two beers for a thousand liras, but in exchange for two beers, they say two hellos, and I just hold on to life with those hellos.
I couldn’t hold on. I couldn’t hold on to poems, to songs. This is always at the very top of my favorites list. Işın Karaca was a chubby woman too. I’ve always loved chubby women. I liked Işın Karaca too.
There was a girl named Işın in the theater club. Her boobs were huge. And she had a friend, Aslıhan. Aslıhan is in America now. She married an American after university finished.
There was also Soner, who liked that Aslıhan. He was the most handsome young man in the club. His hair was long, his eyes were blue. He played guitar in cafes and bars. One day, I took Özge, whom I met by getting off at the stop she got off at because I liked her on the street, to listen to Soner. Özge liked Soner too. Seeing beautiful girls with handsome men has always made me happy.
The reason I am a man-hater is rude, harsh, and macho men. Otherwise, I have no problem with slender, polite, gentle men. I have even set up many of the men worthy of these adjectives with girlfriends.
Some very beautiful men are also gay men. They are cute, delicate, smiling. I encounter them at the registers of the stores I enter. Some are flirtatious too. Sometimes I feel sad for not being gay. Men have always been interested in me more than women. They like big, hairy-chested men.
Women understand women, men understand men. We are not the same people. For one half of us everything is love, for the other half everything is sex. One half of us is more exalted than houris, the other half is lower than hyenas.
What is the problem with this autumn? Autumn is beautiful in Massachusetts. The leaves are crimson. There are billions of people unaware of the orange season. Consequently, we are lucky too. We must appreciate the beauties we were born into.
Our situation is not worse than anyone else’s. Our salvation is near for all of us. One must never be daunted, never give up. It won’t work if you lose hope, but it will if you lower your criteria. Everything doesn’t have to be perfect. Lower your expectations. Let it be half-assed, but let it be. It’s better than not having it at all. Not being at all is good too. Everything will be as if we never existed when the day comes. Who knows, maybe tomorrow.
No one can write poetry like Mehmet Akif Ersoy. That’s how it seems to me. The gentleman is literally a sentence engineer. There isn’t even a millimetric mistake. This is how verse should be. His words have an orderly arrangement. You can catch this in very few poets. It seems to me that his talent is impossible to imitate.
If I had free time, I would make music. I would sing songs. My favorite song must be Sezen Aksu’s “Deniz Yıldızı” (Starfish) song. It expresses bare, surrendered, helpless but undaunted things to me. Acceptance, unexaggerated, as it is, and thankful. The female hero who surrendered to the fact that she can’t save them all, yet didn’t give up on saving as many as she can.
Everything doesn’t have to be perfect. We might not be able to save everyone, but however many we can save is a profit. This is how this life is, however many we save is a profit.
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