It has been a week already. I left Turkey for a sojourn at. But the heat of life, the emptiness, absence of work – all kept me riveted to this pinnacle banal cycle of sleep, food, thinking but no love. If I get that job eight miles away from where I live, life may present a new array of paths. I could ingress into one. My heart beats motley with the world’s rhyme; the exchange of ideas between my father and the neighbor has fused with the local council’s rubbish removal truck; the radio, detached from this synthesis, is its own world – like me. The world rushes past me. My hands are still cold imbued in the last mistake. A final calm bounces off my walls. The bastion of my withering, that zest in life, zeal for life as a reality, a grandiose outlook, that place where everything made sense by radiating its meaninglessness: where good and evil is invisible; love is manifest between the fusion of two minds; ageing is not existent, only rough waters are seen and the skin is experienced: I want to be there again. But I have exchange love in favour of a cool mindset. The pills sieve me of my self, but my natural existence is too tumultuous: Steady love, passion – smiles may not be nourished.