If you act like a slave you become a slave, if you act like a god you become a god

I pour boiling water from my teapot over the roasted ground coffee beans in my glass. Boiled coffee beans form a creamy foam on the surface of the water. As always, I take my first sip in the kitchen. After the bitter taste of coffee spreads to my palate, I go into the living room with a coffee glass in my hand, after looking at the mess around, I open the door of my private room. When I press the light button, the photos hanging on the wall light up. I close the door and sit on the 360-degree swiveling bar stool in the middle of the room, which is not fully illuminated despite the lights on the wall. I put my coffee on the small table in front of me and turn on the stool. I stare at the brightly shining photos around me. This room is my therapy.

On the opposite wall, photos of my mother and father from 15 years ago hang separately. Beneath my mother's it reads, "This kid's introverted state worries me, you'd better pick him up and talk." He told this to my father in the kitchen when I was just starting high school, thinking I was sitting in my room and I wouldn't hear. However, I was not an introvert, I was talking to my friends on the internet for a long time at that time. I was learning, having fun, spending time.

Under my father's photo it says "You're a man now, aren't you a girl or something". My father told me this a few weeks after my mother said the above words. It was declared that I was a man and that I had to hang out with girls as a requirement. The owner of the photo next to my father is a girl I dared to open up before my father's words. Underneath, she writes the answer she gave me. “Sorry, I like tall guys.” I was at least 10 cm taller than the girl back then. But it wasn't because of my height, it was because of her shortness. Being short doesn't mean she doesn't want a long girlfriend, of course. Length is also relative, after all. In the photo next to her, it belongs to another girl that I opened up to on my father's words. Our relationship only lasted two months. The caption reads, "You're so kind." He told me this when he was in love. When she started dating the bear next door a week after she broke up, I realized that this was not a compliment but a criticism.

I am declaring myself letter by letter.

Listen to me, my teacher, you cannot have forgotten my voice.

If it's over, wrapping leaves, or your daily work,

Listen to me, I have something to tell you.

Like a repetitive voice,

Out of the blue, unreal.

I know ;

My dreams had no spelling rules,

You loved punctuation.

One typo is ours,

Love was written to me, farewell to you.

You opened a paragraph to someone else,

I love you.

I must make a confession to you,

You suit each other very well with your spouse,

I am happy for you,

You will always be happy.

I don't have any expectation from you,

Couldn't sleep, I'm writing something.

Under the photo of my Guidance teacher in high school, it says "You are a young man, travel, wander, hang out". The reason why my guidance teacher was in this room was that these words he said to me at the end of an interview where I told him about the troubles I had in my inner world created a dilemma for me.

My dilemma was: Did the fact that the specialist and my father recommended the same treatment indicate that the specialist was a patient, or was the prescription a universal medicine that was tried and proven throughout human history, and passed down through generations? I still haven't been able to find the answer.

The photo next to my teacher belongs to his close friend. Below it is written “Why should we be tolerant, brother?” This question has always been among the questions that I could not answer. Why should we be tolerant of people? Why is this tolerance a virtue? This question has confused me for years. That's why this question is on my wall instead of all the questions we asked each other during the countless delicious conversations we had with Murat.

In the photo behind me, there is no human face. This is the profile picture of one of the members of a chat site that I used to hang out with a lot. The profile picture of this person, whom I knew and chatted with by the name of Tutankhamun, was a picture of a pharaoh holding a staff in accordance with his name. Under Tutankhamun, who I only knew was an engineer, he said, “If you act like a slave, you become a slave, if you act like a god, you become a god. People are stupid, they don't understand you're acting, they believe you. Forget the truth, play God."

The photo next to the door is of the man I sat next to on a train journey and chatted throughout the journey. I downloaded his photo from his social media account to hang on my wall. I did not contact him after the train journey, just to keep the magic of that conversation.

During the conversation, he explained at length that it is necessary to know the art of living, that it is like swimming, that if you get excited and struggle with the events, you will sink, on the contrary, even if you stay calm and just stay calm, life will bring you to the surface, just like water does, and this will be enough to survive. He said first to survive, to survive, then he said we can learn to swim and move forward. When he got off the train, he said that he did not know how to swim. Below her photo it simply says "Learn to be a fish".

I grab my glass and stand up. I turn off the lights and head towards the kitchen, pouring the cold coffee, which I haven't had a single sip in the room, into the sink. I put the dirty glass next to the other coffee-stained glasses. I repeat the same thing as yesterday and the previous days, as I go to the window and watch the crowd in the street;

Whereas I know how to swim, whereas I know how to swim.