Wonder is, as the music of the heart, voiceless

Here we go again, it's now been 3 weeks since my first day in Istanbul and I think I'm less melodramatic and 'woe is me' now.
This is likely due to the fact that I have already planned my next visit to Istanbul as a complete break from university when I graduate. A week of peace. On my own.

Just imagining the taste of that freedom sends mini-tingles up my spine.

I lie. But that sounds like something you'd read in a book, right?


Just thinking of my week away really gives me a sense of relief; that once I'm away from The Dictator, I won't have to put up with so many of the people that I do.
People who are friends with me (and vice versa) for the sake of having company.
I look forward to the day I can leave those people behind like lifting the dusty mantle of social formalities and leaving it on the floor the past.

For photos, click post title


































More later..

Sometimes, wonderful things happen to me, too.

Two weeks have passed since my first full glorious day in Istanbul.
It feels like forever (o the melodrama).
Two weeks should be enough time to readjust to England and all that comes with it.
It should be.

And so instead I find myself moping around wishing I was anywhere but here.
The grass is always greener on the other side. Although, I am greatful for the little plot I do have.

She took a deep breath and believed him, because of her father's faith in the myriad and contradictory possibilities of life, and because, too, of what the mountain had taught her. "Okay," she said, exhaling. "I'll buy it. Just don't tell my mother, all right?" The universe was a place of wonders, and only habituation, the anaesthesia of the everyday, dulled our sight....She focused her thoughts. "Sometimes," she decided to say, "wonderful things happen to me, too."

My patience for uploading is waning.

Hence, I shall leave the photos at this for the moment...

[For more photos, click the title of this post]