The Length of a Cigarette — On Life
This post was first published on Medium: https://medium.com/@marketingholmes/bir-sigara-i̇çimi-uzunluğunda-i-26587e836d09
Life isn’t fair. Which of us hasn’t said life isn’t fair while letting out the smoke after lighting a cigarette, in those moments when you’re upset, when you search for the meaning of being alive, when you withdraw into yourself, when you’re sulking at life just because you can’t have what certain people have from birth. Wandering the empty streets of the city in the middle of the night, under the dim lights burning here and there, passing street lamps you imagine someone switches off just because they can’t stand you, as if someone were watching you, which of us hasn’t taken a deep breath and said this too shall pass.
Beyond all this, one thinks there must be a secret hidden beyond the vast seas. While knowing why one exists is a person’s greatest right, even when one has no say at all in living, even when one’s soul would rise to the sky at a single word, they snatch every vowel of what one says out of the air and kill it. As words lose their meaning, if the meaning of living gets more tangled the more you try to undo it, like a ball knotted into a hopeless tangle, a person again finds the greatest solution by returning to the mother’s womb. Far beyond wishing never to have been born, one savors the pleasure of finding peace in the mother’s womb, under a pouring rain. Maybe that’s why humankind loves so much to fall asleep lying on the belly of the one they love.
Everything in life is about people, everything!
With love..
MH.
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