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Politics in Turkey

Politics in Turkey is very different that I’m used to in Belgium or even Western Europe. And if for one thing being active in a European Political Federation is that is very informative about the sense of politics. Politics as in political parties. Politics as in a parliamentary democracy. Politics between right- and left-wing policies.

And in those things politics in Turkey is very different. In every sense.

It might be very strange to understand for anybody who is used to any kind of Western European kind of politics but it is so. I only hope that by writing this down I don’t seem too much like a spoiled Western European brat who knows things so much better. A kinder manner of neo-imperialism.

But things in Turkey are very different indeed. For one there seems to be no such thing as a difference between political parties. All of them seem to be very nationalistic minded, militaristic and conservative. There seems to be no such thing as a difference as in conservatives, liberals, socialists and progressives.
If there’s any difference then that should be that between black and white. There is no such thing as a grey area of politics. You’re either in favor or against. No middle way at all. And in such extremist surroundings it doesn’t even make sense to be grey. Not at all. No sense at all. Because that only confuses. And confusion in the field of politics, or for whatever else that matters is just not done in Turkish society.

This black or white thinking also makes it impossible to ever think about a parliamentary democracy. The closure of any Kurdish party (the only worthy opposition party possible) has shown this. Seven Kurdish parties have been closed down this way. Because they were against a majority thinking Because they were against a Turkish nationalistic approach. Because they defended a minority (maybe only the biggest minority in the Turkish Republic, but still). And this is unsettling in what should be considered a democracy. This is actually not even worth to be called a democracy when parties that stand up for minority rights are abolished just because of that. And all other reasons given are just crap.

Also the complete lack of something that could be considered a a left-wing party in the Turkish Republic is completely strange. Because no matter how progressive a party may seem here, it is always overshadowed by nationalism, by militarism or by clear racism. There is as such no such thing as critical thinking. And that is something that is needed to be left-wing, to be progressive. To be able to change.

And therefor I fear that this way of politics, that has drowned society, or that is maybe a result of the societies wishes, maybe never really ready for democracy. Or even the illusion of democracy. Because democracy as such takes courage to think differently. To be in acceptance of minimal change.


My Way – For the End is Near

And now, the end is near

And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear
[I’ll] state my case, of which I’m certain
I’ve loved a life that’s full
I traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than that,
I did it my way…

Regrets, I had a few
But then again, [too] few to mention
I did what I had to do
and saw it through without exemption,
I planned each charted course,
each careful step along the highway
And more, much more than that,
I did it my way…

Yes, there were times,
I’m sure you knew,
When I bit off
more than I could chew
But through it all,
when there was doubt
I ate it up… spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall
and did it my way…

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried
I’ve had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way,
“Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way”.

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the words he truly feels
and not the words of one who kneels,
The record shows I took the blows
and did it my way…

Oh, no, oh, no, not me,
I did it my way…


I don’t know if it’s just that time of the year, if it’s what I am encountering here in Turkey or if it’s my hormones playing up or whatever. But I’ve been asking myself more than often that same question over and over; “What is actually that emotion people describe as love?”.

I’m not sure. Through the years I’ve had various definitions of love. Different descriptions of that very important emotion. But I doubt if I’ve ever fully grasped it. Maybe even that is not possible. And it might change with time and experiences.

The only truth in this may as well be that ever since I was born I have tried to find love. Wherever possible. With my parents. With the very wrong friends or boyfriends. With people that deserted me after a while for all the obvious reasons. I’ve tried loving. Loving to the core. Loving in the fullest possible manner. Because I always felt that that particular emotion was missing in my existence. I’ve simply never encountered love in any sense when I was a kid. This is not something to be sad or depressed about. It’s just a fact like any other.

And to be frank, even if that was a fact in my childhood, I’ve never ever felt loved in my life. Of course looking back objectively I must say that there were people that surely loved me. But it never felt that way. It was nearly like I programmed myself that I was not deserving to be loved. I was only capable to give love. Not expecting anything in return. Except maybe to be disappointed and heartbroken.

It’s maybe something I’ve come to think about since experiencing the society here. Where emotions like love are so well hidden from each other. It might as well not be possible to love out in the open in this country. Or even to feel anything besides hidden friendship for each other. But what really is love?

If it is really something I do not feel secure enough to deserve then what? If it’s nothing I can receive but only give? If it’s only something that needs to be hidden far, far away from the public eye? If it’s really a rationalizing of what is possible and what not? Is it really worth it then? Or is it just worth anything? Is it everything you can wish for; to love and to be loved?


When he looked out that window he say so many different things. So many beautiful things. Things that left him breathless. Breathless and aching for more.
Aching since this moment where he saw all these things wasn’t going to last. It just wasn’t going to last since he would have to turn around. Stop his stare out of the window and return back to this cruel reality that is life before dying.

He never imagined it to be this hard. Dying that is. He always imagined it would be something easy. Maybe even the easiest thing he would ever encounter. Sleeping. Dozing off and never waking up. Not noticing that life had come to an end. If it even was an end. Maybe it would be better to put it as the unknown. As that is really what it is. It is the unknown as nobody knows what awaits there. Or what doesn’t await there.

But it was hard. All this pain. Both mentally and physically. Hurting. Like it never had done before. Everywhere. Therefor it would be a relief when this all stop. Or goes on to the unknown. But at least the pain would be left behind. Well, hopefully it wouldn’t come with to the unknown. And if it was the end it would also mean the end of all this hurting.

And that would be beautiful too. It would be better. It will be different. It will be something other than what was in the now. But it will feel better. As nothing could be any worse than this reality. Even in all its beauty that this moment carried.


I’m 13. It’s summer. It’s the summer we didn’t go to Turkey on holidays.
It’s the first long summer alone. No friends. Nor any pretense of any love around.
I’ve been spending weeks wondering the streets. Walking around.
Occasionally going to the library to get lost in books.
But the emptiness closes in.
Somewhere deep inside there’s a vibrating need for adrenaline. The need to be noticed. the need to have concern. The ultimate need to feel loved.
Maybe it are the books I’m reading. But i want to escape.
Escape from myself. Escape from everything surrounding me.
A plan boils up to make a run for it. To evaporate into thin air. Or maybe just to find happiness.
And that brings out the memory of those Easter holidays at the seaside with my brothers and mother. The happy days that once were in my grandmothers house. Those long hours walking on the beach and in the dunes. The wind in my hair. The salty smell in my nose. The itching sand in my socks.
It’s there that I want to return.
Too find what is lost. To embrace those cherished memories.
But i fail.
Once again I’m dragged back into the obvious. There’s nothing out there for me. Or that’s at least what they tell me when they drag me from the train and send me back to that place that should be a home. But it isn’t. And it will never be that.

The Utter Madness of Pretense

today’s world is all about pretense. Nothing else.

We’re all pretending that it’s all okay. Everything is alright. Everything is bound to whatever society expects from us and that’s alright. Everything is just great. We’re all fitting in a box and refusing to think out of it. We’re just doing our best to be plain simple. And even in our extra-ordinary behavior we’re not even coming close to the limits of what is expected. We’re not even coming close to chocking not only everybody else but ourselves. We’re playing safe.

Cause we fear insecurity. We fear ourselves. We fear jumping out of the box. Even when we think we’re exceptional we’re staying put and not expanding our horizon as it should. We refuse because it is to scary.

As such we can have the pretense that we can dress up as a women whilst being a man in ‘normal’ life, but as such we are scared as hell to discover something else that is not society bound.  We’re just too afraid. We are too insecure. And that kills us. It kills us in being a complete human being. Living on the edge. Not thinking but feeling. Because we are programmed. Because we are brainwashed. To think that we are exceptional. That whilst we are not. And we are not. We are just touching the boundaries. Scratching at what is normal and expected. Simply pretending what we are not.

We are human. And that mean that we are overtaken by our own ego’s. By our own fucking shortcomings. We’re all pretending. We’re all just fucking bloody plain. And we shouldn’t pretend.

We’re nothing. Deal with it. Do not pretend.

Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying.