"But when from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell alone, more fragile but more enduring, more immaterial, more persistent, more faithful, remained poised a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, hoping, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unflinchingly, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection."
- In Search Of Lost Time Volume I: Swann’s Way, Marcel Proust
"Doktor çağırmak âdetti. Hastalar iyileşsin iyileşmesin doktor çağırılmalıydı. Ne hayat, ne de ölüm adını verdiğimiz kardeşi, doktorsuz olurdu. Hele ölüm… Yaşadığımız dünyada başında doktor olmadan ölmek adeta ayıptı. Bu ancak muharebe meydanlarında, insanlar toptan, binlerce, on binlerce öldükleri zaman olabilirdi. Çünkü ölüm aslında pahalı bir şeydi. Fakat bazen ucuzlar, herkesin olurdu."
"Don’t worry about control! Freedom is what you’re working toward," Haber said gustily. “Freedom! Your unconscious mind is not a sink of horror and depravity. That’s a Victorian notion, and a terrifically destructive one. It crippled most of the best minds of the nineteenth century, and hamstrung psychology all through the first half of the twentieth. Don’t be afraid of your unconscious mind! It’s not a black pit of nightmares. Nothing of the kind! It is the wellspring of health, imagination, creativity. What we call ‘evil’ is produced by civilization, its constraints and repressions, deforming the spontaneous, free self-explanation of the personality. The aim of psycho-therapy is precisely this, to remove thouse groundless fears and nightmares, to bring up what’s unconscious into the light of rational consciousness, examine it objectively, and find that there is nothing to fear."
- Dr. Haber - “The Lathe of Heaven” by Ursula K. Le Guin
The last two weeks have been the second shittiest period of my life and it seems that this will be on my menu for a while. It’s been snowballing as if to test me how much I can postpone the insatiable urge to shoot people - five or so - in the fucking mouth.
I used to tolerate all this shit for the sake of making do with the beautiful things I have in my life and with the hope that I can manage to go my way and protect my sanity. Yet, as I’ve experienced, I cannot. Not anymore.
I hate this shitty, narrow-minded country I’m in, and I hate the family I was born into. I hate it when I’m unhappy/frustrated about something, and all I hear is “Well, you know, that’s the way it is.” You know what? Fuck that. I don’t want to be at this side of the table anymore. I’ve never told anyone how to live their lives, and why the fuck am I always watching them imposing their dip shit opinions on mine?
I cannot wait to graduate and earn my own fucking life so that I can get the hell away from this retardation that’s gradually surrounding me.
I don’t want to sound like a complaining discontent asshole, but I hate it.
"My poor father was baffled and afraid. He was unable to believe that there could be anything seriously wrong between us. And this was not only because he would not then have known what to do about it; it was mainly because he would then have had to face the knowledge that he had left something, somewhere, undone, something of the utmost importance."