What A Wonderful Thing This Life İs!
We don't know where life will take us, and we never will. But we should never give up hope.
The weather in Kastamonu is generally cold, windy, and rainy. Most people don't like this. But how many of us have considered feeling the wind on our skin instead of complaining? A day will come when we can no longer feel the wind. The wind blowing in this world will have no meaning for us.
We have such a short life, the end of which we don't even know, and we spend it complaining. We waste a lifetime doing the most foolish thing we could possibly do.
We urgently need to stop doing this because time never waits for our pleasure. I'm not here to write an article this time, but to remind everyone of this. Both to myself and to everyone else. While you still have the chance, try to feel the wind, the cold, even the rain, the snow, whatever it may be. Not everyone is lucky enough to grow old, but if we refuse to feel now, we may regret it for the rest of our lives. Don't forget that. 🍃🩷
You got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sitting at the table
There'll be time enough for counting
When the dealing's done
youtube.com/watch?v=7hx4gdl...
The story of my life doesn't exist.1000Kitap
The story of my life doesn't exist. Does not exist.
There's never any center to it. No path, no line. There aré great spaces where you pretend there used to be someone, but it's not true, there was no one. The story of one small part of my youth I've already written, more or less-I mean, enough to give a glimpse of it Of this part, I mean, the part about the crossing of the river. What I'm doing now is both different and the same. Before, I spoke of clear periods, those on which the light fell. Now I'm talking about the hidden stretches of that same youth, of certain facts, feelings, events that I buried. I started to write in surroundings that drove me to reticence. Writing, for those people, was still something moral. Nowadays it often seems writing is nothing at all. Sometimes I realize that if writing isn't, all things, all contraries confounded, a quest for vanity and void, i's nothing. That if it's not, each time, all things confounded into one through some inexpressible essence, then writing is nothing but advertisement. But usually I have no opinion, I can see that all options are open now, that there seem to be no more barriers, that writing seems at a loss for somewhere to hide, to be written, to be read. That its basic unseemliness is no longer accepted. But at that point! stop thinking about it.
Hayatımın öyküsü yok. Yok.
Hiçbir zaman bir merkezi yok. Ne bir yol, ne bir çizgi. Eskiden birilerinin olduğunu varsaydığınız büyük boşluklar var, ama bu doğru değil, kimse yoktu. Gençliğimin küçük bir bölümünün hikayesini zaten yazdım, aşağı yukarı - yani, bir nebze de olsa bir fikir verecek kadar.
Bu kısımdan, yani nehrin geçilmesiyle ilgili kısımdan bahsediyorum. Şimdi yaptığım şey hem farklı hem de aynı. Daha önce, ışığın vurduğu, net dönemlerden
Teen Titans: Then and Now (Teen Titans 1996 #12-#16)
Roy never was one for using the proper code names. Maybe because his was Speedy. Too much insecurity and self-doubt. He tries to cover it with flippant remarks, but it’s not enough.
For 2025
The truth is, I was never ready. I was just brave enough to try. Brave enough to cast aside my weariness. Brave enough to generously share my compassion. Brave enough to take a step towards finding myself. Brave enough to discover my strength. And sometimes, brave enough to know when to let go. You be brave too.
Remember
If one day you never hear from me again please remember this; I really really tried my best with you, I made you my priority in ways I never thought I could for someone.
I had so many paths to take and I was still lucky enough to cross paths with you that day and now I hope my absence brings you the joy, the happiness and the peace my presence never could.
My feelings weren’t perfect but they were real.
And even now as I let go, a part of me will always hope we cross paths again.
A part of me will hope that even if you walk right and I walk left because the world is rounded, we will meet again.
If you ever think of me I hope you remember the good, how I made you feel, the attention I gave you and all the good things that we shared.
I hope you know that even in the silence a small part of me wanted to come back and try it one more time.
But sometimes you got to respect when you aren’t invited to the party.