My eyes wait at the door when I long for you at the most unexpected time, my heart

My heart, this is not your reproaches, it hurts me these days..

But I told you my heart or do I have to say more

is my heart?

Now I'm writing a big "My Heart" here

you read it with lines in every heartbeat

Feel it running through my veins and

Do not forget for a moment that I love you

my heart ?

What a fool, I almost reproach you

I would reply to your site with my reproach

Tolerate you, these are all too much love, my heart.

You know, sometimes even if your reproaches hurt me, even they are my consolation.

Look, my love has missed me, I say that he has passed to the affectation office with a smile on my lip.

Do you know my heart?

I put my hand on my heart, close my eyes and feel you.

In those moments, your breath circumambulates in all my cells.

I shudder.

Then come and smell a scent from my neck

you leave a kiss and

I get out of myself and become you again, my heart.

i love you more every day

and in that special language that belongs to both of us.

If it is important to write, to write constantly, if you consider writing as an action and take it seriously, it means that you have accepted in advance the responsibility it has placed on you for what you have done. Besides, this responsibility is not such a responsibility that can be underestimated, emphasized, no matter how, but it is a responsibility that will disturb our practical life and world of thought. Or so it should be.

Because people who read what you write should understand that you are conscious of your work and that you choose every word that comes out of your pen with great care. Which is this; It shows that you understand how heavy and important your responsibility in writing is.

I know that dealing with writing is a great act of courage, do I need to write? Especially in this country, whose agenda is constantly under the threat of turmoil and dictatorship, dealing with writing is more of a daredevil... Although it is possible for us to agree with the concept of freedom, whose borders are freely determined, rather than freedom in every sense, it is not possible for us to agree with the double standards of freedom.

It is a pity that those who act without the slightest doubt about loving their homeland and nation, while others have the freedom to hide behind something and speak and write almost anything, are persecuted for simple statements and writings.

Sometimes; Your heart swells because of what you see or read, and you attempt to write down what catches your eye in the mirror of reality. So what; then you realize that you can't write in that state and you put soft expressions on words... Or you give up on penning about that subject...

Because you are not sure what will happen next. In fact, the insecurity of the environment affects you so much that; You do not enjoy what you write or what you speak.

From time to time, for this and other reasons, your thoughts may even center on you to stop writing. Maybe that's why there are not few people who put their pen to a corner and live a life of almost recluse for years.

What a difficult task, however, for those who are tempted by words.

Author Zweig has an essay in which he examines how writers write. Putting himself among ordinary people with great humility, he says there:

At first glance, they are people like you. They do what we do, and then they sit at the table and do something we couldn't do and write.

According to Zweig, when writing an article, something other than itself is happening. He doesn't even realize what he's doing.

After writing the article, if you ask him how you wrote the article, he will look at you like "a murderer who does not know about the murder he has committed".

Just like your identity, how the article was written remains unknown.

There is a strange commonality between murder, writing, and love.