CARNIVAL II

Today I am in a carnival again; but knowing that I chose this, knowing that I met here with all these people by making a contract makes me happy. Yes… I still have things to learn. Otherwise, what was I doing here? Of course, when all this is over, there will be a separation on its own and each of us will head towards different carnivals. Until that day, to all of you:

Hello!

The woman who managed to stop the cat that was trying to make you pet her with her “No!” exclamation, “zınk” (zınk)… You woke me up from my “zınk” dream. -I sometimes get lost in it too.- I understand from the way she waves her finger, “This one won’t go in!” and walks away with an air of “This place used to be mine” that the lesson has started. For some reason, this line from dear Cemal Süreya comes to mind:

“It’s like they’re rehearsing something.”

I'm smiling.

The curtain has opened. Scene 1

*

The scene changes many times during the day. The curtains open and close.

Those in the “more advertising, less work” role…

Those who always live in harmony with everyone…

Those who are never willing to get along with anyone…

Humanists…

“I did it, it happened” people…

Those who put their hands under the stone…

Those who run a cheese ship with words…

Good morning to all!

There is a break in the curtain.

“Intelligence serves the ego, reason serves the conscience,” says a teacher I love very much. I see this. I understand. I am happy. “So, what should I do?” I ask. “In which scene, which role should I play?” “Find your identities,” he tells me. “Catch them one by one. Which one is the real you? Search for that. You have infinite time. You are already coming from a century-long journey in which you searched for yourself.”

He points to the stage with his eyes. “Don’t you dare criticize anyone,” he says quietly. There is a ripple on his face. I think he suspects me. He’s right, of course. I immediately blame it on being trapped in a body with these feelings. I get out of it in my own way.

I leave before the curtain opens. That’s all for today, I say. I stop and take a breath. I raise my head to the sky. A group of white birds are flying. I love it. “The life you live is very valuable,” says my teacher. “Don’t waste it.” “I won’t,” I say. This time he doesn’t suspect me. I look up at the sky again. The white birds are no longer visible. A dog from far away says, “Wow!” I feel hope, longing, and a sense of expansion inside me… Cemal Süreya is on my tongue… I walk.

"There was a flower standing there, somewhere

He opened it as if to correct a mistake.”

With love.