Modern Eşkıyanın Otoban Sayfaları

 I don't know how to talk to people anymore. Used to be that I could spend hours, explaining the inner torments of my mind, being excited for things, wanting things, having hope. Now it feels like it's been a cold winter for the past few years. I keep telling myself that this is what I want, that this is okay but I can't even feel like I'm living anymore. I bury my desires, my fears, my regrets and my hopes so deep down that even I don't know they're there sometimes. I had expected things to change a little bit for the better after I moved but now I find myself getting worse and worse. This decade has shown me many things about myself that I cannot seem to shake off. Ideas of myself, my belief in myself. I find that each day I vividly see and acknowledge the things that are wrong with me and still find myself unable to do anything about it. Life is suddenly extremely boring and there are no exciting days. Sometimes I truly believe that maybe it's me that...

 As if any of these people mattered, he still kept judging his actions, his habits and his thoughts by the barely real representations of others. He knew they weren't real. He knew the mundane existed in each and every single one of their lives yet he still judged himself as if he was the stain under their shoes. Looked and talked down on himself as if he had no qualities whatsoever, as if he could not amount to anything at all. He knew that there were accomplishments of his own that were yearned by others. Knew that there were qualities unique to him that put him in a rare percentage of people. Yet he still judged and loathed himself heavily. Maybe it was this self-loathing that took him on this path of creative expression, maybe it was his judgement that placed him in this unique spot. Still, he wondered. Still, the judgement and the loathing weighed heavily on his shoulders and slowed him down to a halt. He knew not what to do. All he knew was; he needed help and he was not wort...