I think my way fell on you after the day I vacationed my dreams. While I was in a hurry to wipe the tears that fell from my eyes, I was convinced that I had fallen out of favor with the whole world for days in my struggle with my pen and myself.
My identity yesterday.
I keep my soul hidden in the moment.
And when I say that I perceive the breaks in the cycle I take at half time as surrender to eternity, I open the first page to read your last book with enthusiasm...
Even if I can't remember how many of your books I was disappointed with, a supernatural force ordered me at that moment:
"Get all the books he wrote"
The interesting thing about the list of books in my hand is that your name is registered, while most of them are available in my library, but I cannot find on which shelf of which library.
Yet I imitated your pen once, while keeping in my lower memory that you were a popular writer and a distinguished person.
The worst thing is, the last time I ordered online, I drank a very large amount from a shopping site that I did not know, but the shopping site I do not want to mention.
Not to be offended either.
My desire to read all the books of distinguished authors that I read from time to time in order to improve myself completely and that I squandered my money, which is not in the eyes of those around me.
However, when the subject is a book, it's only a matter of time before the flowing waters stop, then when the waterfalls cascade and I get lost while choosing a book, my wallet is also empty.
Every sweaty book, every article is so sacred to me, and I can't help but highlight what happened to me while wandering through the lines of countless writers to get inspiration from their pen:
Being under the influence of the writers whose style I imitate while I have a good or bad fit is not very attractive to me and my reader: the enthusiasm that comes from reading an impulse that I can't overcome, and the happiness that comes from the past.
The sincere and gentle voice of the book that calls me every time your pen visits me, and when I get lost, it's official, since I embrace your book or books with love, even the bookstore I've been to recently.
I hope that this bookstore will not end up like the others, as I read mercy to the bookstores that were closed one after the other.
The smell of books when it was love itself, and the books on the shelves while I was examining it carefully like a student and the sales manager approaching me:
"I don't think you'll leave easily, as if choosing a book while the books are in your lap, but I don't think you'll leave easily, but if you wish, let me take the books from your lap for now, it seems that you will spend a long time while shopping."
Is it possible not to smile? So I'm not the only one who embraces the books like an acquaintance I haven't seen for a long time...
The magical world of books and those who know each other from their language, sight and pen.
Of course, it is mind-boggling to compare myself with you, after all, you have a writing experience as much as I am, in this context, I write these lines with all my respect and sincerity, as always.
I think I have the right to criticize as I am not a well-known writer and poet and critic with a wide readership, as someone who has read quite a few books, and I emphasize that all I know is that I know nothing, after all, this aphorism of the philosopher has shed light on me since day one.
I smash the books I read a lot and I know that this immoral term is not nice, but you can review every book that is not empty, and there is nothing like reading it underlined, I think I envied my friends so much that even on the last day of school, there is nothing like reading it. and they would say goodbye to the last day of the semester and academic year with books that kept their order.
One of the colors is blue today, my dear writer, and what I read in the introduction to your last book has made me feel very gloomy. In this context, I would like to convey my best wishes to you and the following pages of your book...
Of course, I was very disappointed when I saw that your last book, which I picked up as a novel, consisted of short essays and memoirs, of course, there is a sequel.
Because, through this book, I learned that you are a writer who has traveled all over the world at a busy pace.
I won't tell you about my love of writing because you are unlikely to understand me and there are countless reasons for that, my dear writer.
It is almost impossible for me to reach the level you are at, especially when I compared myself with your predominant social side, I was quite disappointed because you have such a crowded environment that in a way violates life to be in the spotlight, again, what you paint with your writer friends and your crowded family.
Actually, my first acquaintance with you was based on your statements in a talk show.
What did you say?
“My first book and my first book signing and my mother was the only one.”
I had a special contact with you that day, especially when I was my supporter since the first day, especially when my mother's biggest wish was for me to sign a book.
I have to say that I'm scared, but your busy schedule didn't appeal to me at all.
Especially when I look into my mother's eyes, like all children, maybe a little too much because that great bond between me and my mother has gained more value and grown in the last few years, actually I grew up after my mother's illness, how I thank my Lord for forgiving her to me again.
Health and our family and all our loved ones…
I'm trying to read your last book, and I want to get your other books that I haven't read by emphasizing once again that I am detrimental to the mind.
Your style.
Your view of life.
Your pen and shaker.
There is also a story that I was blessed with in childhood, more precisely, the piano seizures that I was imprisoned for a long time through my family who wanted me to learn to play the piano, of course, like you, my salvation was again when my piano teacher said that he had no hope for me.
We went through similar processes.
And our weaknesses and loved ones…
Since it has helped me to write an article where my path crossed with you...
Although our characters and writing style do not match, I saw a lot of myself in you, thank you for holding a mirror to me in this sense, my dear writer.
Knowledge and emotional vibrations are such an immense medium and formation that every book, every author, and every perspective is a pioneer in presenting me new new worlds.
Once again, I wish you well, my dear writer, and may your pen be always, sir.
My mind is still in your books that I have not read, and I want to read it, putting aside the possibility of disappointment, of course, it is also aware of the necessity of ordering from a known shopping site.
Books and emotions and sweat can never be matched with materiality, my dear writer, and even if I am a thousand years old, I will still live and write with my student and knowledge-hungry spirit and continue to love…
I'm not asking if I can love you because I didn't take permission from anyone for a lifetime to love you.
With love, my dear writer!
