I'd like to watch the rain wet The Earth

After the thunder, the falling rain was hitting my window. I was about to read a carefully folded piece of paper in the dim light of my desk lamp. I'd like to watch the rain soaking the earth from my window softly. If it weren't for an unknown letter that I was about to read, I would have risen from the chair where I was sitting to watch the rain fall.

Unknownness has always attracted attention. The curiosity that the unknown letter aroused in me, which I did not know from whom it came from, had defeated the pouring rain. The paper folded twice left four indelible pieces of paper on the letter. It was written in dark blue ink and embellished with a neat handwriting. Who knows how many papers were spent, I was told to write so beautifully. I couldn't help thinking that maybe it was written in one go.

It was writing like this; “Eyes that cannot see despite the light that splits the twilight. The ears that the shouts do not hear. And I am alone in the crowd. I am the one that the eyes do not see, the ears do not hear, and I feel loneliness to the bone despite the crowd. If you have no hope to live; If the branches you hold are broken one by one, or if there is a weak branch left in your hand, your hope is getting weaker.

Where do I know? What life has to offer me; not like a hypocrite. Because I was living whatever the situation I was in offered me. If I dare to confront you one day, I hope I will tell you. Maybe it would be better to tarnish a white paper with ink dripping from my pen. I do not know. Forgive me for not having the courage to confront it. "

You are reading the manuscript of my first study of human psychology and shirk.

First to be rescued in fire - Poetry

Our most incremental behavior

It was to send New Year's greeting cards to our loved ones,

Then, we were proceeding in order to connect to the exchange, tokens, cards in a motion.

We had pen pals,

that we corresponded with the hope of meeting one day,

Then he was advising to collect stamps

Our permanent teachers,

The stamp and wealth fell a beautiful one.

We loved it from afar and secretly

A few eye contact was our whole love story,

Most of all, we had a shy attitude, our love is with the girls.

We were staying between countries in our discussions,

We were pretending to be a little bit of our brothers,

Sometimes to the older generation.

I was nobody at that time

In one of the district boarding schools

While looking at the street lamp through the ironed glass,

A record was kept in a state crops office for me

I had an iron cupboard, bunk bed and two blankets.

Believe me the time has passed so fast

I do not know where I am in time.

Next to me is a boy with hair number three

on the other side of me is a man with a white beard.

Now unlike anything else

Where can I talk about love in this article,

How can a person express a feeling that he has not experienced?

I think I was influenced by the novels I read,

Or under the influence of green pine films,

I made up a love, just for myself

Its name is sadness.

Like I don't belong to a literary genre

Moreover, I squeeze my words,

I dream of a troublesome afternoon nap with Q and X.

Kiss me a little bit on my fingertips.

The letter was over. There was also the date and time. I was 21 years old then. Now I am quite old. Many courageous people looked into my eyes and offered me friendship. But a courageous person, even this mysterious person I did not know, held me captive to his courage.

I wondered for days. I could not even sleep that night. I waited for another letter or even a few for him to come across with encouragement. Waiting felt like torment, I felt my patience melting like a candle illuminating the dark.

I left the house to go to the library as I always do. The second letter, neatly folded under a piece of stone, reached my hand. He did not have his signature in the letters he wrote, but his careful folding and proper handwriting was now a signature of him.

I could not read this piece of paper that I quickly squeezed into my bag where I am now. After I finished my work in the library, I should have read calmly at home.

In the cell where curiosity imprisoned me, the concept of time was not flowing as if it had stopped. I had the feeling that my fast steps slowed me down more. When I got home, when I was in my room, I was like the winner of a hard fight. Without changing my clothes, I took out the letter that I kept in my bag like a treasure. On the paper contaminated by the dark blue ink, it was written as follows;