Now I'm laughing with such excitement
Was it in vain that I was floundering in a boat in eternity?
What was the difference between my left and right, front and back from the abyss... I was alone, clinging to life while the prison destroyed my hopes!
There were no seagulls, no mountains, no earth... I mean my blind habits. Maybe a storm would break out and I would drown and die, but I was living while thinking about it. Holding on to life meant being human...
The more I look at the clouds in sky and see them darkened, the more I fear that a storm is coming. Then I thought, wasn't I living with the same feelings in the most crowded bazaar... Whoever I asked to come and commiserate with me thought I was crazy. Loneliness, survival could not be bought with money... Like the violence of the woman I hired to take care of my father who had Alzheimer's disease. That maid who thought there was no patience left, who dreamed of getting rich in the shortest way and living with her slaves... Why should she put up with my father, who would condemn him... Did she care if he condemned her... What could a person who sees everywhere as a prison have to lose... The maggots that cling to his heart, dominating even his words. People who live beyond me, outside of me and are happy when they find security...
Who ever found trust, how were they different from me who now clings to life by boat? Always the will to live, unable to break away from this world... Cries and storms blaming the catastrophe for whatever crime had been committed... Just as I was drifting towards the rain that was about to break and that I would not be able to see. I, a human being, who could stop the roar of nature and take precautions against it...
The sun is ruling everywhere, the eye sees, but what? Wherever that sun rises, the problems are the same... Man loses himself, he denies himself while living outside. When he has his true trusted self inside, he carries it outside and looks for the trust that is not there everywhere. So what if there is death, only the body he carries and is a porter dies... The soul he neglects inside is still intact... He is constantly renewed to the infinity of the ocean.
Eat, drink, go to the toilet... What else is there in this world that belongs to us? Even if we find a restroom, if you don't have money, they won't let you in there either. Even a dog is free from us, it poops wherever it wants. Hold your pee, until you explode... That's when you become human, they say...
There are so many books on the boat. Now I can't understand why I bought them and why they are here. Reading, dreaming about what to say... What's in hand, what's in palm... A disaster will happen to me, what good are those books to me... This is reading but not living... I read libraries full of books. What obstacle was there to keep me from getting lost in a book?
You eat ice cream. When it's gone, you can't taste it anymore... You have to buy it again and eat it again... Every taste has a price, and so does the excess... I have to spread that ice cream craving over a lifetime and eat it slowly. Someone who is constantly licking in an ice cream vat has so little success in life... I'm more hopeful than he is in this boat. The soullessness from the library keeps me playing in the shackles of logic. I'm like a machine, or I've lived like one. If only I had a human being with me, if only I could pass on all that I've read to him or her, if only that person could learn it too. But how could this make me happy and give me hope to connect to life, which is not realized and lived in the ocean...
The sun has set... I am in the darkness now... Only the sound of the waves gives me fear in my ears as if they remind me of a terrible scream... I scream... The sound of the waves drowns out my scream. You know, if I survive this ocean, if my feet land on the ground, if the media exaggerates and reports this painful experience... What will change? I think it is wrong to compare this world... If I die, I will enter into an unknown eternity, while my body disappears! Then what will be the consolation when the dimension changes...Or will I search for this world and this ocean again. The undeniable fact of existence cannot calculate this annihilation. Which mathematical calculation gives a guarantee? What formulas that cure the longing inside me are adorning around me? All of them are the results of an artificial intelligence that does not accept human beings, whose voices resemble screams as they emerge... If artificial intelligence gives more than a book, what is the need for libraries, for reading books? Is it the books that are meant by "read", or the secrets of the universe that man discovers that turn into astonishment as he learns? To attribute this to artificial intelligence, you really have to be a human being... I mean, man cannot be lazy, the more he learns, the more he learns will be what artificial intelligence will have to do. Man can't create anything. He discovers what already exists. You know those who think they are gods when they discover... I laugh at them now, they are real losers. They are worse off than me....
Now I am laughing with such excitement... Am I happy? I don't even know what I'm laughing at... Maybe what is inspired offers nourishment to my soul like what I drink or eat. Actually I feel the abundance of absence... Your dreams, your hopes, it is me, my ego, that is resisting to stay alive... I am in awe of the blessings of the one who created me, blessed me, surrounded me. This ocean, these clouds, even the darkness is not mine... What belongs to me in this world... I was deceived. I laugh at him.