tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927233769905259312024-03-23T13:15:53.931+03:00Elif SENTURKElif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-67515908087421920492021-06-02T00:12:00.003+03:002021-06-02T18:57:09.294+03:00Sarılan Cümleler / Sentences that Hug<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #777373; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 15px;"> </span><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;">🇹🇷</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> O kadar uzun zaman geçti ki, artık yazmıyor muyum yoksa yazamıyor muyum ben bile ayırt edemiyorum. Elime aldığım kalemi sadece ders çalışmak için kullandığım bu zamanlarda, kalemimin bana küsmesi olasılığı da bir hayli yüksek tabii. Soğuyan metali sanki elimdeki bir yabancı gibi artık. Yazılan kelimeler birbirine soğuk ve anlamsız. Kelimeleri sıcak yapan benim onlara duyduğum sevgi miydi yoksa sana yazıldıkları için mi sarılıyorlardı bu kadar birbirlerine bilemiyorum. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Yazmayı özlüyorum, kelimelerin kalemin ucundan kaymasını, sayfalarda izler bırakmasını, zihnimde canlanıp ruhumda anlam bulmasını. Ben yazmayı özlüyorum, yazıların içine gizlediğim duyguları, düşü</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">nceleri, beni ben yapan sana sarılan cümlelerimi özlüyorum. Ben, ruhu çiçekler açmış Elif'i özlüyorum.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC82gSIHiwP7N2vOFaKGQ2IDgAbsRRjO8Imne-QYsQK4cVTw1FYdkK0Ycthy46LIfqE3exCDxlc4KuMmMdvd3FRZE6K-9axE63r8Sm16n6p6DetpYli7Aw1IYQL-CNV0zhL2NJm2ggxHo/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC82gSIHiwP7N2vOFaKGQ2IDgAbsRRjO8Imne-QYsQK4cVTw1FYdkK0Ycthy46LIfqE3exCDxlc4KuMmMdvd3FRZE6K-9axE63r8Sm16n6p6DetpYli7Aw1IYQL-CNV0zhL2NJm2ggxHo/w400-h266/s-00a17e845f4463ea9a75fa6d8123ed4f22d38a32.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: Roboto; text-align: left;">🇬🇧 </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;"> It's been so long, even I can't tell whether I'm not writing or cannot anymore. At these times, when I only use the pen I picked up to study, the probability that my pen will resent me is quite high. Its metal is like a stranger to my hand. The words written are cold and meaningless to each other. I don't know if it was my love for them that made the Words Warm, or if they hugged each other because they were written to you.
I miss writing, words slipping from the tip of the pen, leaving traces on the pages, reviving in my mind, and finding meaning in my soul. I miss writing, I miss the feelings I hide in the writing, the thoughts, the sentences that hug you that make me who I am. I missed Elif, whose soul blossomed. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-71151176576426257302021-03-18T10:42:00.004+03:002021-03-18T11:07:56.839+03:00EMANET / <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background: rgb(234, 153, 153); color: #262626; font-size: 10.5pt;">🇹🇷</span><span style="background: rgb(234, 153, 153); color: #262626; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Çanakkale; kanlı toprak üzerine kurulmuş, şehitlerimizin gölgesi üzerine
inşa edilmiş, maviyi ve yeşili cömertçe sunan bir şehir. Kan kokusunun havada
uçuşup başka vücutlarda hayat bulduğu, toprakla karışıp meyve olduğu yer.</span></i></div></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"> Savaş; o güzelim şehrin düzenini bozan.
Etraf karartılı sis, duman. Her adımda bir patlama sesi. Ve kopmuş uzuvlar
dağılıyor kanlar içine… Böyle, insanın içini donduran bir manzarada yaşanıyor
savaş. Çocuğuyla savaşa katılan anneler(imiz), genç yaşta vatanı korumak için
canını feda edenler. Vatan için bir atan kalpler.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"> O isimsiz kahramanlar kendi canlarından
çok düşünmüştü bizleri. Ağzı süt kokan bebeleriyle cephede duran kahraman
annelerimiz bizler için kendi evlatlarından vazgeçmişti belki de. Sırf bizlere
bir ev, vatan bırakabilmek içindi hepsi. Türk kanını başka milletler altında
ezdireceklerine vatana feda olsun diye döktüler. Kimi sevdiğinden, ailesinden
koptu kiminin ailesi, sevdiği yoktu. Ama hepsi oradaydı bebeğinden yaşlısına,
yaşlısından kadınına herkes oradaydı. Kiminin sol yanında taşıdığı mektup
vardı. Biliyorlardı belki; şehit düşüpde bir veda bile edemeyeceklerini hayata.
Ve savaş sonunda yakılıp yandı şehir. Kanlı şehit mektupları bulundu bir bir.
Kimisi anneciğine yazmış, onu ne kadar özlediğinden bahsedip ellerinden
öpmüştü. Kimisi de silah arkadaşları için eline almıştı kalemi, şehit olup
olmadıklarını merak etmişti kuşkusuz. Ve belki oğlunun ölüm haberi gitti bir
anneye, gurur duydu gözü yaşlı kadın. Cömertti Türk askeri, mertti. Düşmanı
yurttan kovmasını da bildi, düşman yaralandığında yardım etmesini de. Sonsuz
merhameti denizlere kan olarak karıştı Mehmetçiğin.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"> Yıllar sonra adeta küllerinden doğmuş bir
biçimde büyümeye devam etti Çanakkale.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"> Peki ya bizler ne kadar sahip çıkıyoruz
bu fedakârlıklara? Zamanında toprağı, vatanı koruma uğruna bedenlerini siper
eden her yaştan insanın bıraktığı emanete ne kadar sahip çıkıyor bu gençlik?
Farkında değiliz belki de. Sadece birazcık hissedebilseydik bunun ehemmiyetini
o zaman toprağa bile basamazdı bu vücutlarımız. Sadece biraz hissedebilseydik,
kavrayabilseydik önemini, toprağa basmaya bile kıyamazdı vicdanlarımız. Var
elbette, var! Yok değil elbet bu şehri sevip koruyan gençler. Fakat yeterli
değil! Her Türk gencinin yüreğinde olmalı bu sevgi. Yağmurlar yağdıkça,
kirinden arındıkça ülke, yeşermeli bu sevgi.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"> “Çanakkale geçilmez!” Fakat unutmayalım
ki, Çanakkale onu sevip koruyan bir milleti oldukça geçilmez.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 13.65pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">Ayşe Elif
ŞENTÜRK<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 13.65pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">- 18 Mart 2015
"Çanakkale Ruhu ve Gençlik" konulu kompozisyon yarışmasında Edirne
ilinde dereceye giren yazımdır.</span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIGqHkY1df8XGYDV_UISDGpb4bbgLO-6L6AHZFmZNZtrU4eluuLXCbJ5Gv8EhMjarTeu0XA-q2RvbV5jJ3SngXv3WosXPGWj9I3AwQOASYtYCGahDVxfbnPAOl-40SrIr1MQ4u9fzqaw/s2048/IMG_1485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIGqHkY1df8XGYDV_UISDGpb4bbgLO-6L6AHZFmZNZtrU4eluuLXCbJ5Gv8EhMjarTeu0XA-q2RvbV5jJ3SngXv3WosXPGWj9I3AwQOASYtYCGahDVxfbnPAOl-40SrIr1MQ4u9fzqaw/w266-h400/IMG_1485.JPG" width="266" /></a></div><br /></div></span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol",sans-serif" style="background: rgb(234, 153, 153); color: #262626; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"> Çanakkale is a city founded on
bloody earth, built on the shadow of our martyrs, generously offering blue and
green. Where the smell of blood flies in the air and comes to life in other
bodies, mixes with the earth, and becomes the fruit.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">War, the one who
disrupts the order of this beautiful city. Blackened fog, smoke. An explosion
at every step. And severed limbs fall apart in blood ... in such a landscape
that freezes the human being, war. Mothers/our mothers who join the war with
their children, those who sacrifice their lives to protect their homeland at a
young age. A beating hearts for the Fatherland.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">These nameless heroes
thought more of us than of their own selves. Maybe our heroic mothers, standing
at the front with their milk-smelling babies, gave up their own children for
us. All this to leave us a home, a homeland. Instead of crushing Turkish blood
under other nations, they poured it into the homeland to be sacrificed. Some of
them were cut off from their family they loved, some of them had no family that
they loved. But they were all there, from baby to old, from old to woman,
everyone was there. Some of them had a letter on their left side. Maybe they
knew that they couldn't even say goodbye to life if they were martyred. And at
the end of the war, the city burned down. Bloody martyr letters found one by
one. Some of them wrote to their mother, talked about how much they missed her and
kissed her on the hands. Some had taken the pen in their hands for their
comrades in arms, wondering if they were martyrs. And maybe the news of his
son's death went to a mother who was proud of the tearful woman. The Turkish
soldier was generous, brave. He knew how to drive the enemy out of the dorm,
and to help when the enemy was wounded. His eternal mercy mingled with the seas
as blood.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">After many years, it continued to
grow, almost born of ashes.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">And how much do we care about these
sacrifices? How much does this youth own the relic left by people of all ages
who once covered their bodies for the sake of protecting the land and the
homeland? Maybe we're not aware of it. If we could just feel it a little bit,
then our bodies wouldn't even be able to step on the ground. If we could just
feel it a little bit, if we could understand its importance, our consciences
wouldn't even be able to step on the ground. Of course, there is, there is! No,
Of course, the young people who love and protect this city. But it's not
enough! This love must be in the heart of every Turkish teenager. As the rains
fall, as the land is free of dirt, this love must flourish.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">"Canakkale is
impassable to pass!” But let's not forget that Çanakkale is quite impassable to
pass for a nation that loves and protects it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Ayşe Elif ŞENTÜRK</span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;">-March 18, 2015. Winner of
"Çanakkale Spirit and Youth" composition competition in Edirne.</span></b><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: TR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p></div>
Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-2432758366586199392020-12-23T20:08:00.002+03:002020-12-23T20:08:23.682+03:00İlişkiler Üzerine Münakaşalar 3 / Controversies Over Relations 3<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #777373; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 15px;"> </span><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;">🇹🇷</span> Bir ilişkiyi besleyen en önemli şeylerden biri birbirini yapmaktan zevk aldığı konularda yeşillendirebilmek. Birbirinin zevklerine, hobilerine, ilgi alanlarına saygı gösterebilmek ve karşımızdaki insanı bu konularda destekleyebilmek. Bir annenin iki yaşındaki çocuğunun yaptığı anlamsız çizgilere bakarak çocuğunu resim yapmaya desteklemeye devam etmesi gibi bir şey bu. Burada büyüttüğümüz şey bir çocuk değil belki ama bir sevgi aslında. Elbette eleştirebilir, fikirlerimizi dile getirebiliriz ama yanımızdaki insanı olduğu gibi kabul etmek, isteklerinde desteklemek, yürüdüğümüz yolun en ortasında yan yana yürümek... Bunlar birbirimizi yeşillendiren, baharda çiçekler açtıran, halet-i ruhiyemizi büyüleyen ve karşımızdakini yeşillendirdikçe aramızdaki sevgiyi büyüten, aramızdaki sevgi büyüdükçe de mutlu bir ilişkinin, içinde rahat olduğumuz bir ilişkinin kapılarını araladığımız, her iki kişi içinde besleyici bir ilişki oluşturuyoruz. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlzJn-DPziPiDb8lwm6YGt59Scb64VK_YzgFU-kte0fyr3aK7R01A8e_8IxWLQ3MAwwncFkqBIiIZCfX5aHvoyw5NC1-W2tzoPtJiOo2Htk6FWj0lyjhj4QsT9fttuu2E1Z2HH9RBIKQ/s2048/20200103_182153.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlzJn-DPziPiDb8lwm6YGt59Scb64VK_YzgFU-kte0fyr3aK7R01A8e_8IxWLQ3MAwwncFkqBIiIZCfX5aHvoyw5NC1-W2tzoPtJiOo2Htk6FWj0lyjhj4QsT9fttuu2E1Z2HH9RBIKQ/s320/20200103_182153.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yürüdüğümüz yollar hep ışıklı olsun</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">🇬🇧</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;"> One of the most important things that nurture a relationship is to be able to green each other in the issues that they enjoy doing. The ability to respect each other's tastes, hobbies, interests, and support the person in these matters. It's like a mother continuing to support her two years old child to paint by looking at the meaningless lines that she makes. Maybe what we're raising here isn't a child, but it's love. Of course, we can criticize, express our ideas, but accept the person next to us as he/she is, to support his/her wishes, to walk side by side in the middle of the path we walk together... </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;">As the love between us grows, we create a nurturing relationship within both people, in which we open the doors of a happy relationship, a relationship in which we are comfortable, as the love between us grows.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;">1: <a href="https://elifsenturk.blogspot.com/2020/04/iliskiler-uzerine-munakasalar-1.html">https://elifsenturk.blogspot.com/2020/04/iliskiler-uzerine-munakasalar-1.html</a>
2: <a href="https://elifsenturk.blogspot.com/2020/04/iliskiler-uzerine-munakasalar-2.html">https://elifsenturk.blogspot.com/2020/04/iliskiler-uzerine-munakasalar-2.html</a></span></div>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-88419571620178333762020-12-03T13:00:00.006+03:002020-12-04T09:36:04.519+03:00Boncukçu Dede<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14px;">🇹🇷</span><i> Uzundu. İnce ve uzun. Büyük elleri, ayakları ve hüznünün üstünü
örttüğü bir tebessümü vardı. Yaşının ilerlemişliğiyle dökülmüş saçları ve ince
derisinde kırış kırış çizgileri bulunuyordu. Mavi gözleri vardı. Su kadar
saydam, gökyüzü kadar mavi. Kopkoyu bir mavi, derin bir mavi. Uzun kirpikleri
saklıyordu bu elmas parıltısında ki gözleri. Bazen keserdi ama artık sakalları
vardı. Beyaz. Uzunla kısa arasında kısaya yakın; bembeyaz. Kırışmış teni ve
bembeyaz sakalları onu 'dede' yapan şeydi.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Biz ona 'Boncukçu Dede' derdik. Renkli renkli boncukları ipe dizerdi. Galiba
satardı sonrasında. Yaz aylarında giderdik yanına. Uzak olduğundandı yılda bir
iki defa görüşürdük. Hep 'Elif Kız' derdi bana. En son iki veya üç ay önce
duydum 'Elif Kız' deyişini. En son ve son kez... <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Dün 'Elif Kız' deyişini duymak için aradım. Telefona başkası
çıktı. Uzak olduğu için miydi bilmiyorum ama inanamamıştım gittiğine. Sanki
arasam telefonu yine 'Elif Kız' diye açacaktı. Açmadı açamazdı..<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>-120615</i></span></div>
<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 14px;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> He was long. Thin and long. He had big hands, feet, and a smile that covered his sadness. As he progressed, he had hair that had fallen out and wrinkled lines on his thin skin. He had blue eyes. Transparent as water, blue as the sky. It is a dark, deep blue. He hid his long lashes, his eyes in this diamond glow. He cut it sometimes, but now he had a beard. White. Between long and short, close to short; white. His wrinkled skin and white beard were what made him 'Grandpa'.
We called him 'Boncukçu Dede'. He used to string colored beads. I think he'd sell it later. We used to go to him in the summer. Because he was away, we met once or twice a year. He always called me Elif Kız. The last time I heard it was two or three months ago. For the last and last time...
I called yesterday to hear him to say 'Elif Kız'. Someone else got on the phone. I don't know if it was because it was far away, but I couldn't believe he was gone. As if I had called, he would have answered the phone again with saying 'Elif Kız'. Would not be likely..</span><br />
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<span style="background: white; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i> </i></span></span><span style="background: white; font-family: Nunito, serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-89203809594659186902020-11-08T11:41:00.005+03:002020-12-09T22:13:09.362+03:00İlişkiler Üzerine Münakaşalar 2 / Controversies Over Relations 2<div style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">🇹🇷 </span>Bir kereseinde "Bir ilişkiye en lazım şey merhamet. Şartlar çok zalim, insan eve gelince gördüğünde de merhamet bulamazsa hayat daha da zorlaşır." diye bir yazı okumuştum. Eskiden sevginin bir ilişki için tek temel olması gerektiğini düşünürken, şimdilerde fark ediyorum ki temelin güçlenmesi için; sevgi, anlayış, saygı ve sadakatin merhamet ve şefkat duyguları ile birleşmesi gerekirmiş. Karşılıklı olmalıymış tüm bunlar, birbiri hakkında hüsnü zanda bulunmak gerekirmiş. Hata yapınca affedebilmek, insandır olur, hatadır yapılır diyebilmek lazımmış. Birbirine merhamet gösterdikçe sevebilirmişsin çünkü. Merhamet ve şefkat buldukça, ev olurmuş o kişi size. Ev olduça sever, ev oldukça sığınırmışsınız. Her ne olursa olsun günün sonunda bir çift kanat altında huzuru bulabilir, şefkatle yaralarınızı sarabilir, ilişkinin temellerini güçlendirebilirmişsiniz. <br /><br />Dizinin 1. yazısı: <a href="https://elifsenturk.blogspot.com/2020/04/iliskiler-uzerine-munakasalar-1.html">https://elifsenturk.blogspot.com/2020/04/iliskiler-uzerine-munakasalar-1.html</a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUw5bgDEUSPVfopXStsJbTvQT55PHENCsu-E9MAs_mCftzhLehJw6vZsC9x1doLsrcHKWUzyBatTWRJy6socuL1XEZeIFDGKP5d_FXslUUhr3LxT9IosZVszga93k1xuzJ9UrIPlmXVo/s1200/s-d8457eeb38e764b053b21466f6e7bbc0d74412b5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUw5bgDEUSPVfopXStsJbTvQT55PHENCsu-E9MAs_mCftzhLehJw6vZsC9x1doLsrcHKWUzyBatTWRJy6socuL1XEZeIFDGKP5d_FXslUUhr3LxT9IosZVszga93k1xuzJ9UrIPlmXVo/w400-h266/s-d8457eeb38e764b053b21466f6e7bbc0d74412b5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">🇬🇧 </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Someone once said, "The most necessary thing for a relationship is compassion. Conditions are so cruel, life becomes even more difficult if a person does not find mercy when they come home and see it." in his quotes. While I used to think that love should be the only foundation for a relationship, I now realize that in order for the foundation to strengthen, love, understanding, respect, and loyalty must be combined with feelings of compassion. It had to be mutual, all this had to be wishful thinking about each other. To be able to forgive when you make a mistake, to be human, to be able to say that the mistake is made. Because when you show compassion for each other, you can love. As long as you find compassion, it will become a home for you. Whatever happens, at the end of the day you can find peace under a pair of wings, heal your wounds with compassion, strengthen the foundations of the relationship.</span></div>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-43474455226364110442020-10-25T18:01:00.004+03:002020-10-25T18:23:19.044+03:00Ateş ve Buz'un Hikayesi<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"> Üzüntülerini gördüm, kucaklamışsın.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Uzatmak istedim kollarımı sana, almak istedim bir kısmını.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Ferahlatmak istedim yüreğini.</div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;">Ateştin, buz olmak istedim.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Eriyeceğimi bile bile.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ben eridim, sen yandın, biz bittik. <span style="background-color: white;"><br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3HMERNWNQeerwMLxWdOveel4CYSNhv2cZmZFgReURcEDXV5fQvSDch9e7kRfltsc53E65IdSNfxymmY2d3Z5bxjF_mT5IhV4NpmekQM4APwHQr4tmk3bGyS16GPxcpbn4MT0HTzuMQE/s2048/IMG_2468-01-01.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3HMERNWNQeerwMLxWdOveel4CYSNhv2cZmZFgReURcEDXV5fQvSDch9e7kRfltsc53E65IdSNfxymmY2d3Z5bxjF_mT5IhV4NpmekQM4APwHQr4tmk3bGyS16GPxcpbn4MT0HTzuMQE/s320/IMG_2468-01-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /></span></div></div><p></p>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-432085936817343182020-10-16T13:07:00.001+03:002020-10-16T14:33:08.417+03:00Tebessüm / Smile<div style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">🇹🇷</span> Bir tebessümün bir çok sıkıntıyı çözdüğüne inanırım ben. İçten bir gülümsemenin, samimiyet göstermenin, insanları mutu ettiğine inanırım. Kahvecide çalışan o çocuk mesela, tezgahın arkasında kahveleri hazırlarkenki dalgın bakışları. Gülümsedim ona, ellerine sağlık dedim. Sıyrıldı düşüncelerinden, gerçeklikle bir bağlantı kurdu gözleri. Teşekkür etti, kapıyı açtı yardımcı oldu bana, giderken tekrar bekleriz dedi. Ufacık bir adımın kocaman mutluluklara dönüşebildiğinin anahtarı idi bu. Herkese somurtan o kişi, bana gülümsedi.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">🇬🇧</span> I believe a smile solves lots of problems. I believe that a sincere smile, a sincere display of sincerity, makes people happy. That guy who works at the coffee shop, for example, the pensive look behind the counter when he's making coffee. I smiled at him, said the health of your hands. He was stripped of his thoughts, his eyes connected to reality. He thanked me, opened the door, helped me, said come again. It was the key to how one small step could turn into huge happiness. The person who is cold to everyone had a smile on his face for me.</div>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-54859802982980755042020-10-13T18:58:00.007+03:002020-11-02T18:33:53.331+03:00Kim? / Who?<p style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="background-color: #ea9999;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">🇹🇷</span> </span> Nasıl bir insan olduğumu düşündüm. Uzunca ve uzadığınca. Söylenenler gibi miydim, yoksa hissettiğim gibi mi? Kim bilir belki de ortalaması idim söylenenlerin ve hissettiğimin. Kendinden bahset dedi bana, dümdüz bir insandım kendimce ne anlatacaktım bilemedim bu sebeple. O ise uzun zamandır yüzümde tebessümü olmayan bir cümle ile geldi bana <i><b>"Düz bir insan olduğunu hiç sanmıyorum. Sade, hoş, tatlı bir karakterin, tarzın olabilir ama hislerim bu sadeliğin altında heyecanlı bir hayat, düşünce varmış gibi söylüyor."</b></i> Düşündüm. Kimdim gerçekte, nasıl bir insandım? Nerelerden gelmiş, neleri başarmış olduğuma baktım. Yaptığım fedakârlıklara, tahammül ettiğim acılara, tebessüm olduğum yüzlere baktım. Ben, sade, tatlı dümdüz bir insandım ama yüreğimde taşıdığım merhamet ve şefkat duygusu yüzümde güzelliğime güzellik katan bir tebessümdü. İyiliğini istedim herkesin ve her şeyin, mutlu etmeye çalıştım etrafımı; çünkü başkasına dokunabilmiş olmaktı benim için mutluluk. Hatta bu sebeple başlamıştım psikoloji okumaya da. Ben, E.K. öğretmenimin de dediği gibi üzerinden tozu üflenmiş o elmastım.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLmD4lA-unXTURnA210PsY17uJ3bUtxiRusNjG-Ro_BOVjMWCPEJfv_V8v6pOiiYUQIIH6idbLYFGeJ-AHpFQHzjG9YbN6IcPh1mvaE7_Dj7pd4DUL7GH7YjvAVXi4iYbWETft7NYKBg/s1600/60051768_434476770715079_6426475667113639936_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLmD4lA-unXTURnA210PsY17uJ3bUtxiRusNjG-Ro_BOVjMWCPEJfv_V8v6pOiiYUQIIH6idbLYFGeJ-AHpFQHzjG9YbN6IcPh1mvaE7_Dj7pd4DUL7GH7YjvAVXi4iYbWETft7NYKBg/s320/60051768_434476770715079_6426475667113639936_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I thought about what kind of person I was. Was I who what's been told, or how I felt? Who knows, maybe I was the average of what others said and how I felt. He said tell me about yourself, I was a regular person, so I didn't know what to say in my own way. And he came to me with a sentence that I hadn't had a smile on my face for a long time:<i><b> "I don't think you are a regular person. You may have a simple, pleasant, sweet character, style, but my feelings say it as if there is an exciting life, thought under this simplicity."</b></i> I thought that. Who was I really, what kind of person was I? I looked at where I came from, what I had achieved. I looked at the sacrifices I made, the pain I endured, the faces I smiled at. I was a simple, sweet, regular person, but the sense of compassion that I carried in my heart was a smile on my face that added beauty to my beauty. I wanted the best for everyone and everything, I tried to make people in my life happy, because it was happiness for me, to be able to touch someone else. That's why I even started studying psychology. I'm, like E.K. teacher said about me, a diamond that dust blown off it.</span></p>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-53435043996092203932020-10-08T13:23:00.005+03:002020-10-12T16:46:00.195+03:00Ev / Home<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">🇹🇷</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"> </span>Hiçbir zaman gözü yüksekte olan bir insan olmadım. Çok paramın olmasını, kocaman evlerde yaşayıp, üst makamdan olmayı önemsemedim. En beğendiğim huyum da bu oldu kendimde. Elimdeki ile yetinebilme ve onunla mutlu olmayı bilebilme. Bu sebeple küçük bir evim olsun istiyorum. İç içe eşyalarının olduğu, balkonunda çiçeklerinin olduğu, fırında pişen kurabiyenin ocakta kaynayan yemeğin evin tüm köşesine kolaylıkla yayıldığı. İçindekilerin küsünce birbirinden uzaklaşamadığı, evde yan yana geçişirken gülümsenebildiği. Çok şey istemiyorum şu hayattan, mutluluk bunlar benim için. Daha iyisinin peşinde olmanın mutluluktan kaçmak olduğu bilincindeyim. O yüzden Allah'ım, bana balkonunda çiçekleri, içinde pozitif enerjisi olan minik bir ev nasip et. Amin.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzIIKUWReK3LaO96_8u40dtfSekQvB2hhqwW3dvofePFRXdFmEPVhi2KQocepNMBQGTirM53hrSu9ZHM5PAi5vBOo6-UZM7DJtj4G_lGQckA93QiGOaNOhQG2Z6SPhxjP-x66gcGkuMYo/s1580/D9_WRmPWwAQ84bU-horz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1580" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzIIKUWReK3LaO96_8u40dtfSekQvB2hhqwW3dvofePFRXdFmEPVhi2KQocepNMBQGTirM53hrSu9ZHM5PAi5vBOo6-UZM7DJtj4G_lGQckA93QiGOaNOhQG2Z6SPhxjP-x66gcGkuMYo/w530-h236/D9_WRmPWwAQ84bU-horz.jpg" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: #ea9999; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I've never been a person who wants more and more. I didn't care about having a lot of money, living in big houses, being in the upper level. That's my favorite habit of myself; The ability to be content with what I have and know how to be happy with it. That's why I want a little house. It has intertwined objects, flowers on the balcony, and baked cookies, boiling food on the stove, easily spreads to the entire corner of the house. People can't get away from each other when they are inside, they can smile when they switching from side to side at home. I don't want much from this life, just happiness. I'm aware that chasing better is running away from happiness. So, God, give me flowers on your balcony, a little house with positive energy in it. Amen.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-6610551918357433522020-09-21T11:01:00.002+03:002020-10-12T16:45:55.992+03:00Acılarımız / Suffered<p> <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_erf2UneoNimQtj0UvJD1zZpztofOkZ4TRQ-zeQPSYMn65O5RkjkpSvyd0TRxV-x1twnt3I7FPoznzdH9EGiq9PhwNzMQJ_dgtILFHWixXdIP6_lBI97lu0aUXEx8pxl6H8K6zbvxZw/s1600/IMG_0442-02+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_erf2UneoNimQtj0UvJD1zZpztofOkZ4TRQ-zeQPSYMn65O5RkjkpSvyd0TRxV-x1twnt3I7FPoznzdH9EGiq9PhwNzMQJ_dgtILFHWixXdIP6_lBI97lu0aUXEx8pxl6H8K6zbvxZw/s400/IMG_0442-02+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="266" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: white; font-family: georgia;"><b style="background-color: white;"><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; text-align: justify;"> </span><span face=""segoe ui symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #777373; text-align: justify;">🇹🇷 </span>Karların altında kalmış acılarımız.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Her adımımızda daha bir acıtmış canımızı.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Her soğukta daha bir katılaşmış,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Daha bir tutunmuşlar yere.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Ve her gelen daha bir incitmiş canımızı.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Her gelen daha bir ezmiş kaldırımlarımızı.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">10.12.17<o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">16.07<o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><br /></span></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><br /></span></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #262626; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify;">🇬🇧 </span>Our pain under the snow.</div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal">Every step of the way, it hurts more.</div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal">Each cold solidified more,</div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal">They're just clinging to the ground.</div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal">And every time it comes, it hurts us.</div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal">Every one of us has crushed our sidewalks.</div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal">10.12.17<br />16.07</div></span></div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span><br />Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-57144352564989644192020-05-16T01:00:00.002+03:002020-09-21T11:00:27.405+03:00Yavaş Yavaş<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pPlzqkxJYjokhntlx4ihtShYDCm2rFR6iWigCR9RDeMtGiIn_a_lpxi4GJPVoCGzODhGsqTV8TscYRnRGKSywd4TW1dFGa1QoGRC6zjU7q_MJtLDhKYXzqljoXpy01JLwdXZzU0dApk/" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1280" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pPlzqkxJYjokhntlx4ihtShYDCm2rFR6iWigCR9RDeMtGiIn_a_lpxi4GJPVoCGzODhGsqTV8TscYRnRGKSywd4TW1dFGa1QoGRC6zjU7q_MJtLDhKYXzqljoXpy01JLwdXZzU0dApk/w266-h400/8f3eacbb95bf0cd9267eadb8f2f3f87c.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span><a name='more'></a></span>Yavaş yavaş soğuyor insan. </div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Hevesleri, umutları, istekleri...</div><div style="text-align: left;">Bir bir yeniliyor,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Bir bir çürüyor.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Birden sönüyor içindeki yangın.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Yavaş yavaş soğuyor külleri.</div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;">Birden kararıyor gökyüzü,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Birden alçalıyor kuş cıvıltıları,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Birden yitiriyor her şey önemini.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yavaş yavaş soğuyor insan. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Yavaş yavaş kopuyor her şeyden ve herkesten.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Birden yeşeriyor hayat,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ve birden dökülüyor yapraklar. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Dalların yeşermesi bile üzüyor artık.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><i></i></div></div></blockquote><div> </div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div><i>Elif ŞENTÜRK</i></div><div><i>00.48</i></div><div><i>16.05.2020</i></div></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-8165775019915171662020-04-23T01:06:00.000+03:002020-04-23T01:06:01.754+03:00Üslup / Wording<br />
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #777373; font-family: "segoe ui symbol", sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">🇹🇷 </span> Eski yazılarıma baktım. Eskinin içimde eskimediği yazılara. Hep kırgınlıklarımı dökmüşüm kağıtlara. Hep ağlamışım onlara. En çok da bana söylenen cümleleri unutmamışım ben. Ağlamışım sayfalarca yüzüme söylenen acımasız cümlelere. Ağlamışım da geçmiş mi? Yazmışım da unutabilmiş miyim? Çünkü üslup imiş insanı öldüren veya yaşatan. Milyon kez ölmüşüm de sesim çıkmamış. Milyon kez ıslatmış gözyaşlarım kağıtları da gören olmamış. Şimdi soruyorum kendime; tüm bu kağıtlar... Geçti mi Elif? Geçti mi? Geçmedi. Ve ben unutmadım. Unutamamışım. Nasıl unutabilirsin ki kendini değersiz hissettiren cümleleri? Karşındaki için bir değer ifade etmediğini gördüğün anları nasıl silebilirsin kalbinin hafızasından? Silebilir misin? </div>
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Ben silemedim...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjKQDfdrnBOa7GIqIj2JhpXPZOygEFEniGPWErTQk0Q49GUfEg5mqzrf3zOYaZ5Ej99lYYjNNGtm3KM5gEau3SVLp048w8RDQGIZ7gIueYQaXR-BpjuRAadKIP3L9ktWbs0ecVaM7WoU/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjKQDfdrnBOa7GIqIj2JhpXPZOygEFEniGPWErTQk0Q49GUfEg5mqzrf3zOYaZ5Ej99lYYjNNGtm3KM5gEau3SVLp048w8RDQGIZ7gIueYQaXR-BpjuRAadKIP3L9ktWbs0ecVaM7WoU/s400/image.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="background: rgb(234, 209, 220); color: #262626; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">I went through my old writings. That the old ones don't get old in me. I've always poured my resentments into the papers. I cried to them all the time. Most of all, I didn't forget the words that the others said to me. I cried to the harsh words that were said to my face. Did I cry and pass? Did I write it down and forget it? Because it's the style that kills or sustains people. I've been dead a million times and I haven't said a word. I've wet my tears a million times and no one's seen the papers. Now I ask myself, all these papers... Is it all right, Elif? Did you forgot, is it passed? No. And I haven't forgotten. I was not able to forget. How can you forget sentences that make you feel worthless? How can you erase the memory of your heart when you see you are doesn't mean anything to them? Can you erase it?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">I could not...</span></span></div>
Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-84255628713642552852020-04-03T00:01:00.006+03:002020-12-09T22:13:53.667+03:00İlişkiler Üzerine Münakaşalar 1 / Controversies Over Relations 1<br />
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<span face=""segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif" style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #777373; font-size: 16px;">🇹🇷 </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> İlişki niye sorumluluk ister peki? Çünkü arada savaşlar olur ve bu savaşları çözmek gerekir ilişkinin devamlılığı için. Peki çözmek neden zordur? Çünkü bir çaba gerektirir ve bu çaba kişisel bir çabadır. Yeri gelir gururunu bırakman gerekir, yeri gelir haklı olduğunu düşünsen bile haklı olmayı umursamamayı gerektirir. Zor olan da budur. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Ama insan gerçekten istediğinde yapıyor, çünkü insan sadece haklı olma arzusundan veya gururdan oluşmuyor. Sevgi var, güven var, ondan alınan bir sıcaklık var, bunların o savaşları kazanmaktan daha önemli olduğunu görmek lazım.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Ama özünde her iki tarafında bunun bir savaş olmadığını bilmesi lazım. Savaş iki farklı cephede olur, kazanan kaybedenden oluşur. Yani ilişki bir savaş halidir. Tek fark, siz aynı cephedesinizdir. Anlamı; ya beraber ölürsünüz ya da beraber yaşarsınız. Seçim tamamen size aittir.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span face=""segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif" style="background: rgb(234, 209, 220); color: #262626; font-size: 12pt;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Why does a relationship want the responsibility? Because there are wars, and it is necessary to resolve these wars for the continuity of the relationship. So, why is it difficult to solve? Because it takes an effort, and that effort is a personal effort. You have to give up your pride, even if you think you're right, you mustn't care if you're right. It is difficult.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But you do it when you really want to, because it's not just a desire to be right or pride. There is love, there is trust, there is a warmth taken from him/her, it is more important to see that these are more important than winning those battles.</span></span></div>
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But in essence, both sides need to know it's not a war. The battle happens on two different fronts, the winner and the loser. So, the relationship is a state of war. The only difference is you're on the same front. It means either you die together or you live together. The choice is entirely yours.</div>
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Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-65718845451502062912020-02-04T00:52:00.000+03:002020-02-04T00:58:26.992+03:00Güven / Confidence <br />
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<span style="background: #ead1dc; color: #777373; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">🇹🇷</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Yaşamak için en çok
hangi duyguya ihtiyacımız vardır acaba? Sevgi? Sevginin bizi yaşama bağlayan
bir unsur olduğuna iniyor olsam da yaşamak için en gerekli duygu olduğunu
düşünmüyorum. Bence insan yaşamak için en çok güvene ihtiyaç duyuyor.
Güvene-bilmeye ve başkalarının ona güvenmesine. Önce güven geliyor, insan
güvendiği yere ait oluyor, orada büyüyor, orada yeşeriyor dalları. Güvensizlik
bir çeşit kopukluk kazandırıyor insana; kendisine ve çevresine karşı. Bu
nedenle kopuyorum, her şeyden ve herkesten; yaşamaktan...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Which feeling do we need the most to live? Love? Although I believe that love
is an element that binds us to life, I do not think it is the most necessary
feeling to live. I think that is the confidence to live. To trust others and
for others to trust you. Trust comes first, and people belong to the place they
trust. There they grow, there they born as green branches. Mistrust gives you a
kind of disconnection, to yourself and to the environment. That's why I'm
breaking away from everything and everyone, from living...</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-20561147189572674462020-01-29T01:29:00.000+03:002020-01-29T01:32:48.813+03:00Ses / Voice<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #777373; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px; text-align: justify;">🇹🇷</span> Uzun zamandır uğramıyorum yine buralara, hayat yoğunluğumu kafamdaki düşüncelerden kaçmak için kullanıyor gibiyim. Meşgulüm diyorum, meşgulüm. Ama hayır. İsteksizim sadece. Korkak belki. Bana yalan söylemeyen klavyeme karşı korkağım inceden. Üstünü kapattığım gerçekleri görmek istemeyen bir korkaklık bu. Kaçasım var, uzaklaşasım. Ama hayır, ben kendimden kaçmak istiyorum, kendimden uzaklaşmak. Kendi sesimden kaçıyorum ben, nereye gidersem beni takip eden sesimden..</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBMtD0sYFsONfoEJmNll3J3dBuNoMAsuR7d98Bp9AYSWkW27ZWxFEZSfiWY4znnRwMr4UMj-3bDIaG9tXCCzZOEoWilBpLoOpdom7Ev13Gg23Jiu4xDCXJYtWhKD1z0Und1PcpcIHs5E4/s1600/54c907a27f23f69058108a5a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBMtD0sYFsONfoEJmNll3J3dBuNoMAsuR7d98Bp9AYSWkW27ZWxFEZSfiWY4znnRwMr4UMj-3bDIaG9tXCCzZOEoWilBpLoOpdom7Ev13Gg23Jiu4xDCXJYtWhKD1z0Und1PcpcIHs5E4/s400/54c907a27f23f69058108a5a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I haven't been here in a long time, and I feel like I'm using my life intensity to escape the thoughts in my head. I'm saying that I'm busy, I'm busy. But no. I'm just reluctant. Coward, maybe. I'm a coward for my keyboard, which doesn't lie to me. It's cowardice that I doesn't want to see the truth that I've covered up. I want to get away. But no, I want to get away from myself. I'm running away from my own voice, from the voice that follows me wherever I go..</span></span></div>
Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-87503746735647256002020-01-20T02:16:00.003+03:002020-01-28T10:20:34.004+03:00Fotoğraf / Picture <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #777373; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">🇹🇷</span> Bazı fotoğrafları çekilirken ne kadar mutsuz olduğumu görüyorum. Gülümsemişim ama ben gibi değil, gülümsemişim ama buruk. Yarım gibi hani. Saklamaya çalışmışım ama acı ile bakmış gözlerim. Kendimi kendime itiraf edemediğim bir mutsuzluğu bastırırken bulmuşum..</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiokUb5OPTXAzNfxsUM9naY-I2XFNjWEj-c9rxx-v8_4xVmLQmkji2onv9r6zLU2UttZG9BmP1jS0epBjprsN19N49qecFQj4fZ2DC2M55mtIz6pkSh37TadVRZx9lyQYExzsOYmgcidFo/s1600/82857411_536606043867003_4639383399230865408_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1500" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiokUb5OPTXAzNfxsUM9naY-I2XFNjWEj-c9rxx-v8_4xVmLQmkji2onv9r6zLU2UttZG9BmP1jS0epBjprsN19N49qecFQj4fZ2DC2M55mtIz6pkSh37TadVRZx9lyQYExzsOYmgcidFo/s400/82857411_536606043867003_4639383399230865408_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #262626; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">🇬🇧</span> I see how unhappy I am when I see some pictures of me. I smiled but the smile was not belong to me, I smiled but it has a bitter flavor. Like half. I tried to hide it, but my eyes looked with pain. I found myself repressing unhappiness even I couldn't admit to myself..</div>
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<br />Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-21076854479291355782019-10-26T00:59:00.002+03:002020-01-28T10:20:19.359+03:00Papatya/Daisy<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> </span><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">🇹🇷</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> Yaşam çok kırılgan bir
olgu. Çiçek yetiştirmek gibi bir şey özünde. Bakmazsan solup yok olacak bir
şey. Halbuki yaşam vâr olmak ister, yaşamak, tükenene kadar akmak ister. Olduğu
yerde kurumak ona göre değildir. O yaşayarak kurumak ister. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> Bana bu satırları yazdıran çiçeğe bakıyorum. Kırılgan bir
yaşamın tekrar hayat bulmuş hali o. İlk geldiğinde sadece suyunu verip kendi
halinde yaşamaya bırakmıştım onu, ölmeye mahkum ettiğimi fark etmeden. Sarardı
gün geçtikçe, yaprakları döküldü. Bana kırılmıştı belli, incitmiştim onu. Bu
yüzden yine benim toplamam gerekirdi onu. Çünkü kırgınlık öyle bekleyince
geçecek bir şey değildi, kıranın telafisini beklerdi. Ve bugün karşılaştığım
manzara ona onu öldürmeden yetiştiğim için kendime teşekkürler ettiğim bir
manzara.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> Önce toprağını yenilemem gerekti, köklerini yeniden ısındırmam
hayata. Sonra sabır gerekti bolca, her gün bir kaç güzel sözcük sararmış
dallarına. Su, gün ışığı, sevgi ve sabır... Hepsi onu bugün benimle uyanacak
bir canlı yaptı. O tomurcuklandı, çiçek açtı, yaşama tekrar tutundu. O beni
büyüttü, ben onu. Biz olduk. Şimdi her gün beş dakika kahvemin yanında arkadaş
bana.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtrPamEnJbpzgKo_EKfq6-_YPmdVAXGpz6Wo3PMJMyIppsBTvmLy7VP8Oaz_PYPXK-pMAwcVhxb1lpN5Crz5uUSyvOouiX4pSFGu7wEvHZIwWWWWECiGghwfs0VoN-whO8gUAV4-2Vn3Y/s1600/73417720_982547905441092_7423220581606096896_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtrPamEnJbpzgKo_EKfq6-_YPmdVAXGpz6Wo3PMJMyIppsBTvmLy7VP8Oaz_PYPXK-pMAwcVhxb1lpN5Crz5uUSyvOouiX4pSFGu7wEvHZIwWWWWECiGghwfs0VoN-whO8gUAV4-2Vn3Y/s320/73417720_982547905441092_7423220581606096896_n.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #262626; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #666666;">Life is a very
fragile phenomenon. It's kind of like growing flowers. Something that will fade
away if you don't look. However, life wants to exist, it wants to live, it
wants to flow until it is exhausted. It's not like him to dry out where he is.
He wants to dry by living.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I look at the flower
that made me write these lines. It's a fragile life that's come back to life
again. When she first arrived, I gave her water and left her to live on her
own, without realizing that I had condemned her to die. Day after day, the
leaves fell. She was obviously hurt by me, I hurt her. That's why I had to pick
her up again. Because resentment was not something that would pass when you
waited, it would wait for the redress to make up for it. And the view I
encountered today is one I thank myself for catching up to her without killing
her. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> First I had to
replenish your soil, to warm her roots back to life. Then it took </span><span style="text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;">plenty </span><span style="text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;">patience, a few beautiful words each day to the yellow branches. Water, sunshine, love, and patience... It all made her a creature that would wake up with me today. She has budded, blossomed, clung to life again. She raised me, I raised her. It is we. Now she is my friend, next to my coffee for five minutes every day.</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;">-Elif ŞENTÜRK</span></div>
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Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-40873294996426632462019-10-20T15:58:00.001+03:002020-12-23T20:10:01.568+03:00Anı / Memory #1<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">🇹🇷</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">19 Ekim 19.</span></span></div>
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Öğrenci kulübümüzde güven testlerinin yapıldığı, Sarajevo'da bir dağ başında, güzel bir gün.
Meditasyonla başlıyoruz. Herkesçe bir rahatlama, bir kişi hariç. Yüzleşmesi gereken şeylerin altında kalmış, yaşananların üzüntüsü çökmüş. Bir göz yaşı damlası yanaklarında.
Meditasyon sonrası yürüyüş. İyi geldi. Üzerimde de püsküllü bir şal. Hava sıcak değil, çok soğuk da. Dağ başında, ağaçların arasında. Sırtımdan vuruyor güneş tüm sıcaklığıyla, sarmalıyor beni. Yürüyoruz, yanımda da içsel sıkıntısını bırakamamış sen. Bir an içimdeki çocuk şalın püskülleri ile oynayarak 'Gölgeme baksana! Ne kadar güzel gözüküyor.' dedirtiyor dudaklarıma. Gözlerime bakıyorsun şaşırmış ifadenle. 'Bu ne pozitiflik ya.' diyorsun, gülüyoruz. Çok sonra öğreniyorum ki bu yaşanmış olay senin meditasyonun olmuş. 'Bu kız bu kadarcık şeyle mutlu olup, pozitif enerji ile doluyorsa benim de yapmam lazım.' demişsin kendine, ayrıntılara bakıp mutlu olmuşsun o gün. 'Benim meditasyonum orada başladı.' deyişin var kulağımda. Birbirimize bakıp güldüğümüz.
Güzel gündü TEAM.
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #262626; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;">October 19, 19.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"> It's a beautiful day on a mountainside in Sarajevo, where we have confidence tests in our student club.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;">We start with meditation. It's a relief for everyone, except one person. s/he was buried under what s/he had to face, the sadness of what had happened collapsed. A tear drops on your cheeks. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;">Walking after meditation. Felt good. And I'm wearing a tufted shawl. It's not hot, it's not too cold. In the mountains, between the trees, the sun hits my back with all its warmth. Stalk me. We're walking, and you can't let go of your inner boredom. For a moment the child inside me was playing with the tassels of the shawl, saying, 'Look At My Shadow! How beautiful it looks.'it makes my lips say. You look me in the eye with your surprised face. 'What a positivity.' you say, we laugh. I soon find out that this was your meditation. 'If this girl is happy with all this stuff and filled with positive energy, I have to do it too.' you said to yourself, you looked at the details and you were happy that day. 'My meditation started there.' you said. We look at each other and laugh.. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It was a good day, TEAM.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">-Elif ŞENTÜRK</span></span></span></div>
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Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-78954224401438984022019-10-16T00:28:00.002+03:002020-12-23T20:10:26.034+03:00Değişim / Change<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: #ead1dc; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">🇹🇷</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; line-height: 107%;">Değişiyoruz. Yaşadıklarımız, yaşattıklarımız, hayatımızdaki olaylar ve
insanlar, bakış açılarımız, ortak acılarımız, sevinçlerimiz ve hüzünlerimiz...
Hepsi bir paket halinde geliyor önümüze. Ve gün geçtikçe değiştiriyor bizleri.
Değişmemek elde değil ama, nasıl bir insana evrildiğimiz elimizde mi acaba? </span></div>
<span style="background: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
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<span style="background: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">Ben de değiştiğimi
hissediyorum, dünkü Elif yok piyasada. Ve biliyorum ki bugünkü Elif de
kalmayacak yarına. Varsın değişsin, varsın her gün yeni bir Elif olsun aynada,
mühim değil. Mühim olan o gün aynaya baktığımda gördüğüm kişiden memnun olup
olmadığım. Dünkü Elif'in üzerine ne kattığım, kendime yakışmayan bir hareket
gördüğümde bunu durdurup durduramadığım. Dünden bugüne daha iyi bir insan mı
olduğum, yoksa kırıldıkça kötü birine mi dönüştüğüm. Yani mühim olan tek şey
değişmiş olmak değil, değişirken nasıl bir insan olduğum.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_RJE8Jkqfl8bbhMYUo0y0MXV8AaoOHjBXF7K-Kfrja0UfqjGu76oOIqwwGsgurIBnEJPk-hikrO1LNN_a1UErpY38mwsb6MuDIBcf-UcH7nmvpDE6ZMhBVFG2SibvJkzAufEQR3aCx3M/s1600/72587957_561318914605508_438564311799955456_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_RJE8Jkqfl8bbhMYUo0y0MXV8AaoOHjBXF7K-Kfrja0UfqjGu76oOIqwwGsgurIBnEJPk-hikrO1LNN_a1UErpY38mwsb6MuDIBcf-UcH7nmvpDE6ZMhBVFG2SibvJkzAufEQR3aCx3M/s640/72587957_561318914605508_438564311799955456_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;"><br style="color: #262626;" /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #262626; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit;">🇬🇧</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="background: white; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"> <span style="color: #999999;">We're changing. What we
have experienced, the things we put someone else through, the events and people
in our lives, our perspectives, our shared suffering, our joys, and our
sorrows... They're all coming in one package. And it's changing us every day.
It's hard to not change, but do we have what kind of person we've become? I
feel that I have changed too, yesterday's Elif is not in the sight. And I know
that today's Elif will not exist tomorrow. Let there be the change, let there
be a new Elif in the mirror every day, no matter. What matters is whether I was
happy with the person I saw that day when I looked in the mirror. What I put on
to yesterday's Elif is whether I can stop it when I see a move that is
unbecoming to me or not to do. Is it that I'm a better person than yesterday,
or that the more I break, Am I becoming the worse? I mean, it's not just about
being changed, it's about what kind of person I am when I'm changing.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">- Elif ŞENTÜRK</span></span>Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-37443292722285247742019-10-13T23:46:00.001+03:002020-12-23T20:10:50.051+03:00Gözyaşı / Weep<div style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , serif; line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"> </span><br />
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<span style="background: #ead1dc; color: #444444; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif;">🇹🇷</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> Saat sabah dokuza doğru
odama dolan güneş ışıkları ile uyanıyorum. Her zamanki uyanışlarımdan farklı
bir uyanış bu sabahki. Oda arkadaşımın yatağı boş. Bu tek başıma uyandığım on
sekizinci sabah. Koskocaman sessizliklerin içine yüreğimde gürültülerle uyanıyorum
bu kez. Yeterince boş olduğunu sandığım bakışlarla yattığım yerden gökyüzünü
izliyorum. Gökyüzünün maviliğine dokundukça gözlerini hatırlıyor gözlerim. Açık
mavi gözlerini. Kime değiyor o bakışlar şimdi? Bilmiyorum, bilmek istiyor
muyum? Emin değilim. Gözlerimi yumuyorum, fark edemediğim bir acı süzülüyor
kirpiklerimden. İşte bu sensin. İşte bu gözyaşları, senden bana kalanlar. </span></div>
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<span style="background: rgb(234 , 209 , 220); color: #999999; font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background: white; color: #999999; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> I
wake up at nine o'clock in the morning with the sun coming into my room. It's a
different awakening than my usual ones. My roommate's bed is empty. This is the
eighteenth morning I woke up alone. This time I wake up into the silence with
the noise in my heart.</span><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> I watch the sky from where I lay with the looks that were
empty enough. As I touch the blue of the sky, my eyes remember your eyes. Your
light blue eyes.. Who's that in your look now? I don't know, Do I want to know?
I doubt it. I close my eyes, and a pain that I can't even notice flows through
my eyelashes. This is what you are. These tears are what's left of you.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">-Elif ŞENTÜRK</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-57218459107568343312019-10-09T01:32:00.002+03:002020-01-28T10:19:08.803+03:00Dönüşümsel / Reflexive<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">🇹🇷</span> 26 Şubatın 2014 tarihli olan bir günde açmışım bu blogu. Kendi adımla bütünleşmiş 2 e'li "eelifsenturk" lakabı ile girmişim bu mecraya. Bunun da bir hikayesi var elbet. Ama bu, buranın hikayesi değil artık. Hızla girdiğim bu bloggerlık mevzusundan yine aynı hızla uzaklaştığımı fark ederek blogumu kapatma kararı aldım. Fakat üzerinden çok geçmemişken yeni bir Elif olarak oturuyorum bilgisayar başına. Tüm eski yazılarım artık birer 'taslak'. Beni bugüne taşımış yazılar. Ve bu blog, artık bugünkü Elif'e ait. Ve sen, hoş geldin. İyi ki geldin..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> 9 Eylül 2019 gününe başlayalı 1 dakika 16 saniye oldu. Arka planda lavanta çayımın yanında bana eşlik eden bir şarkı. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0kDuZ2mcyg" target="_blank">Stone Sour'dan Wicked Game</a>. Yeni bir Elif'in doğuşunu izliyor gibiyim. Parmak uçlarımın klavyeye dokunuşundan buraya yazmayı ne kadar özlediğimi fark ediyorum. Biraz içimi dökmek, belki yaşayan bir günlük bırakmak istiyorum geriye. Bilemiyorum. Yine buradayım ve burada olmayı seviyorum. Çünkü ben, ne kadar değişirsem değişeyim 'hayatta sadece sevdiği şeyi yapan' biriyim. Ve beni bugünkü ben yapan kişilere ve olaylara sevgi ve saygılarımla. Ben döndüm.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tCae1yUlx7jrXkH9DcA9Wm3peCNuyY-cZkT3IZJUGtVJlm-can3NoaUeVCuGnqOnmoIAXch2Jfk6YGGwE_P3EMlslcUVefqE-E9R5thmJxOSJa4wwvY9GEC8Nn9h5mSEX8zonRn-ZEI/s1600/s-ce4b7eb5a6323916b17a764210466740360e9f12.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="700" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tCae1yUlx7jrXkH9DcA9Wm3peCNuyY-cZkT3IZJUGtVJlm-can3NoaUeVCuGnqOnmoIAXch2Jfk6YGGwE_P3EMlslcUVefqE-E9R5thmJxOSJa4wwvY9GEC8Nn9h5mSEX8zonRn-ZEI/s640/s-ce4b7eb5a6323916b17a764210466740360e9f12.gif" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14px;"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #666666;">🇬🇧</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999;"> </span></span><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I opened this blog on a day dated February 26, 2014. I entered this channel with the nickname "eelifsenturk" with 2 e's which is integrated with my own name. There's a story to it, of course. But that's not the story of this place anymore. I entered this 'being blogger' subject quickly and (again at the same speed) I realized that I was moving away from my blog. Soon after the decision to close my blog, I turned back as a new Elif. All my old writings are 'sketches' now. The writings that carried me to this day.. And this blog is owned by today's Elif. And you, welcome. Good thing you came..</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> It was 1 minute 16 seconds since it started September 9, 2019. A song that accompanies me next to my lavender tea in the background. Wicked Game from Stone Sour. I feel like I'm watching a new Elif emerge. From the touch of my fingertips on the keyboard, I realize how much I miss writing here. I want to spill my soul a little or maybe leave a living diary. I'm not sure. I'm here again and I love being here. Because I, no matter how much I change, am someone who 'only does what she loves' in life. And with love and respect to the people and events that made me who I am today. I did come back.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">- Elif ŞENTÜRK</span></span></div>
Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192723376990525931.post-10344959390651572402019-06-23T23:49:00.005+03:002020-10-15T22:42:15.594+03:00Bir Teşekkür Yazısı<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadF9rcAcOb9wWI-e-csz8-yff4EdiRJ_2-Vx_KtNbuFQgfHVeVQ0yFWxP5M-tRA8aQqftaSzOnDUxalslMj0ZcmLphdlMmSbHoh82VBFTZjaQxaN4U32jqJNOUsYrYDX0ECdzH7yCVss/s1600/photography-sun-sea-summer-wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadF9rcAcOb9wWI-e-csz8-yff4EdiRJ_2-Vx_KtNbuFQgfHVeVQ0yFWxP5M-tRA8aQqftaSzOnDUxalslMj0ZcmLphdlMmSbHoh82VBFTZjaQxaN4U32jqJNOUsYrYDX0ECdzH7yCVss/s400/photography-sun-sea-summer-wave.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadF9rcAcOb9wWI-e-csz8-yff4EdiRJ_2-Vx_KtNbuFQgfHVeVQ0yFWxP5M-tRA8aQqftaSzOnDUxalslMj0ZcmLphdlMmSbHoh82VBFTZjaQxaN4U32jqJNOUsYrYDX0ECdzH7yCVss/s1600/photography-sun-sea-summer-wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: TR;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> Neden psikoloji okuduğumu sorguladım bugün.
Ve yıllarca içimde tuttuğum, itiraf etmekten korkup kaçtığım o cevabı verdim;
“O’nun için.” Siz O’nun kim olduğunu bilmeyeceksiniz. O ki bana ‘Her gece
yüksek bir yerlerden atladığımı görüyorum ve gündüzleri bedenimde o acıyı
hissederek uyanıyorum.’ demiş kişi. Bense hayatta sevdikleri için çabalamaktan
vazgeçmeyen, her zaman onların yanında olup onlara destek olmak istemiş,
acılarına merhem olup onları sarmak istemiş biriyim. Belki de biriydim.
Bilemiyorum, her şey ve herkes değişiyor en nihayetinde. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: TR;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ben O’nun derdine derman olabilmek için
seçmiştim psikoloji bölümünü. O sıkıntısına bir çözüm bulabildi mi bilemiyorum
ama, ben O’na yardımcı olamamış-bundan sonra da olamayacak bir psikoloji
öğrencisi oldum. Önemli değil. Ben O’nun için çıktığım yolda kendimi buldum,
fark ettim ki bu hayatta beni en çok mutlu eden şey birilerine bir faydamın
dokunması imiş. Ben O’nu düzeltemedim ama O benim mutlu bir meslek seçmemde bir
aracı oldu. <br /> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: TR;"> Teşekkürler AYE.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Elif Şentürkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15019041353171891622noreply@blogger.com0