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"Watch out ... Be a bit creative when you put an end to your cliche poor life, you miss life already, at least don't miss death..." Turgut Yuksel
one day it will be over...
I'm thinking how to believe to whom,
or how to create with those last remaining crumbs inside of me,
while we get such strangers to ourselves in thus endless roads.
Time is what a strange thing, while I believe purity of life, believe in love, while playing innocent games,
while I believe that world starts there and ends there...
today i'm walking behind thousand masks within shallow relations.
You can't imagine how hard to wash my face every morning,
how many different faces i have...
Friend face, enemy face, family face, lover face...
My make-ups isn't enough to cover my soul...
I get tired to make-up others faces every morning.
Printed identities, and fake happinesses, just to act like a part of society...
I can't stand to this anymore...
And I'm asking you one more time in my last letter at this creepy evening breeze,
Mr. Parlan, did you obey those eternal screams inside of our souls?
What if we never wake up again?
Wasn't you the one who told me that "no one must make our own decisions , but we..."
I cannot carry off this, in struggle against my own soul.
They hang sick peoples after curify, to let them have more thing to lose...
I don't have anything to lose, except couple of friends.
Life doesn't need me anymore...
As I said, one day it will be over, and it's over my friend ...
i love you...