pains are piling up
stories are both unique, ordinary, and temporary even for those who live through them
this contradiction is making my head explode
 
i can’t find myself in the place i escaped
i can’t find myself in the place where i had to escape
 
you need to look for a chair for yourself now
can you sit?
maybe you'll leave your belongings on it
even that would be something to be thankful for
where can one truly leave their burden?
when your legs can no longer carry your body,
can everyone choose where to collapse?
how lucky we are sometimes
and sometimes how unlucky
all of this is making my head explode

does not change,
days that are passing
i’m so sure they’re all the same day
yesterday didn’t exist,
tomorrow won’t

assemble yourself a place
not more than you can sit on
place your hands on your knees
lose yourself in a long, silent gaze at the window across
out there, the homeless live
at night, anatolian songs are playing
you have a chair
you’re inside
at night, anatolian songs are playing

there are those who don’t build their chair too strong, in case they need to escape again there are those who build it really strong, because they had to escape
those who steal someone else’s chair and make it theirs
and sometimes, there are those who never have to build one at all

in the end, everyone looks for a place to collapse
when their legs can no longer carry their body