I am at a cafe, by the sea, in Istanbul. I find myself in a rather interesting conversation. One of those you have with yourself. With your inner mind, lets say:
“This is life.”
A playful tune fills the air.
Jazz.
I feel the vibes penetrating through my skin, into my heart. The saxophone, I think, what an enchanting instrument.
My tea finally arrives and as a take a sip, I start to watch the people around me.
Every single person is thinking about something. As they speak, they withhold their thoughts. Thoughts that you and I’ll never learn of. Scary isn’t it?
I carry on my conversation. “Who am I?” I start to wonder. “Inside all these people, inside millions trillions of thoughts, do mine really matter? Do I really matter?”
I suddenly feel selfish.
I feel like I’m bewitched with these small thoughts of mine, which have no significance for anyone but me. Or do they?
I witness jubilation. People are enjoying a fancy breakfast with their beloved family and friends. What more could they ask for?
I savour observing people mainly because I get a sense of what’s waiting for me after I’m finished with school.
I can’t help but wonder what their grades were like in high school. Were all these people straight A students? They all can not be Harvard alumni, can they? But they are still blissful and able to afford a satisfying breakfast next to a brilliant view.
This encourages me to question my future. Am I obliged to go to a prestigious college to live happily ever after? I conclude my conversation with a final thought:
Istanbul is beautiful, I say.
Life is beautiful.
“This is life.”
A playful tune fills the air.
Jazz.
I feel the vibes penetrating through my skin, into my heart. The saxophone, I think, what an enchanting instrument.
My tea finally arrives and as a take a sip, I start to watch the people around me.
Every single person is thinking about something. As they speak, they withhold their thoughts. Thoughts that you and I’ll never learn of. Scary isn’t it?
I carry on my conversation. “Who am I?” I start to wonder. “Inside all these people, inside millions trillions of thoughts, do mine really matter? Do I really matter?”
I suddenly feel selfish.
I feel like I’m bewitched with these small thoughts of mine, which have no significance for anyone but me. Or do they?
I witness jubilation. People are enjoying a fancy breakfast with their beloved family and friends. What more could they ask for?
I savour observing people mainly because I get a sense of what’s waiting for me after I’m finished with school.
I can’t help but wonder what their grades were like in high school. Were all these people straight A students? They all can not be Harvard alumni, can they? But they are still blissful and able to afford a satisfying breakfast next to a brilliant view.
This encourages me to question my future. Am I obliged to go to a prestigious college to live happily ever after? I conclude my conversation with a final thought:
Istanbul is beautiful, I say.
Life is beautiful.