I am at a cafe, by the sea, in Istanbul. I find myself in a rather interesting conversation. One of those you have with yourself. With your inner mind, let’s say:
“This is life.”
A playful tune fills the air.
I feel the vibes penetrating through my skin, into my heart. The saxophone, I think, what an enchanting instrument.
My tea finally arrives and as a take a sip, I start to watch the people around me.
Every single person is thinking about something. As they speak, they withhold their thoughts. Thoughts you and I will never find out about. Scary, isn’t it?
I continue my conversation. “Who am I?” I start to wonder. “Inside all these people, inside millions of trillions of thoughts, do mine really matter? Do I really matter?”
I suddenly feel selfish.
I feel bewitched by my subconscious universe. I consist of colorful thought balloons that no one cares to see.
I witness jubilation. People are enjoying a fancy breakfast with their beloved family and friends. What more could they ask for?
I savor observing grown-ups mainly because I get a sense of what is waiting for me after I finish school.
I cannot help but wonder what their grades were like in high school. Were all these people straight A-students? They cannot all be ivy league alumni, can they? But they are still blissful and able to afford a satisfying breakfast next to a brilliant view.
This encourages me to question my future.
Am I obliged to go to a prestigious college in order to live the so told happily ever after?
I conclude my conversation with a final thought:
Istanbul is beautiful, I say.
Life is beautiful.