A Class Activity With Two of My Youngest Students

It has been a while since I last posted.  I began writing a serious post this week which I hope to finish in the coming days.  

Today an activity in one of my classes evolved into something unplanned that I wanted to share here. 

Most of my students are college (university) age and professionals.  I have a three hour Saturday class of three girls.  The youngest is ten years old, and the other two are about thirteen.  Today there was an activity in their English book (Your Space 2 published by Cambridge University Press) that called for the writing of a short rap song using the words "have to."  One of the girls missed out on this, unfortunately, since she was absent. 

While the girls were writing their rap together it came into my mind that they should film it on their phones.  They both have phones. In fact, the ten year old is the owner of an iPhone. Before I could express my brainwave Edanaz, who is ten, asked if they could have time to rehearse their rap and then film it.  I eagerly and totally agreed. 

We tried to film the rap inside the classroom, but the video came out too dark, so the girls gave me their phones and I filmed the rap just outside on the balcony.  Here's the final result with my two cute students.  :) 

İngilizce kursunda yaptığımız çalışma :))
Posted by Zeynep Sude Kasap on Saturday, April 25, 2015

A Brief Post About Failure and Success

Do not be afraid of failure. We learn from failure and mistakes. 

Many people in my country try various things before they are successful. They fail, and then they rise again. Often they go to colleges and universities and they cannot find careers in their chosen field. Instead of giving up, doing nothing, or blaming someone else, they plan for and seek a career in other areas.  Many have had various career positions in a lifetime. Take the example of Dmitry Orlov who is originally from Russia and is an American citizen. Orlov started his career as an engineer. Now he is a professional blogger (his blog Club Orlov), an author and lecturer who is into living a sustainable lifestyle. During the collapse of the Soviet Union he said one of the ways the Russian people survived is because they took their hobbies or little side jobs and they turned them into extra sources of income. For example, If they liked sewing, they used their sewing machine to make money. 

To be successful you have to be flexible, work hard, be reliable, be unfraid of failure, be creative, and invite change. Sometimes the most difficult act of all in overcominf failure is to remove the lazy, unmotivated, average people many of us surround ourselves with.  The humans nearest to us, family and friends, can often be the ones to hold us back more than anything, and after them follow our own thoughts.  

Failure is not a death sentence, and it shouldn't destroy one's ego. We have to overcome the ego. In Sufism it's called "nafs"; in Christianity "pride". Too much of it ultimately results in failure. 

Failure itself is a lesson. You either stop and die in it or you learn from it and then move forward to the prize.

Looking Out the Window

We can look through a window.  We can see out, observe, but a window is a barrier to being completely over on the other side.  The only way we can be touched or understand what is on the other side of the window is to open it or break the glass.  

I like to follow outcasts on Twitter and people who don't completely fit the mold or the usual mode.  I do so because I'm an outcast, and I don't fit the standard mold.  I don't fit in completely with black or white Americans despite spending most of my years in the US. Yes, I have the  American characteristic of being impatient, wanting things to not delay to get moving, but having lived off and on abroad I'm now somewhere between American impatience and Eastern patience.  

I live in Turkey now, or for now.  I used to feel I had so much in common with the Turks, but now I don't feel I fit in completely with them either.  I don't fit in well with the disorganization and unpredictability of Turkey.  But yes, at the same time I do. It has been hard adjusting to the spontaneity of here. 

There's not the kind of racism against blacks found in Turkey like it is in America, but I feel that no matter where you are in this world there's a degree of conformity to white supremacy whether people are conscious or unconscious about their attitudes, perceptions, and tastes. It's very difficult to read or understand what is going on when a person is foreign to a culture.  With Turkey I'm just not as sure as I once was.  I will leave it at that...  

An Iraqi woman I follow on Twitter said exactly how I feel not to long ago.  She posted I'm a insider looking out and an outsider looking in.  I would say in America I'm both the insider and the outsider. That I'm black means I will always be an outsider.  Here I'm an outsider and I'll probably never be an insider.  Once I wanted very much to be an insider in Turkey, but now I'd rather stay to myself, do my job, and keep my head low.  Maybe I will return to my love and enthusiasm for Turkey. Maybe I won't.  This is a time of self assessment, and I don't think I can somehow find my depth and who Sincerae was meant to be among people who place human company and human love tantamount to most things.  I know all of that is transient, so I am trying to find me and what life means rather than trying to find the Turks now.  I don't seek them.  Last night a Turkish man that I was told by a friend had asked about me texted and invited me out to tea. I made an excuse not to go. Turks who consider themselves my friends are wonderful.  There are many good people here.  However, I've come to realize there is something bigger than here or even this entire life.  I've found this out in my loneliness and despair.  

Two days ago when I cried out in despair on Twitter and Facebook (yeah, I've re-entered Facebook again at my own risk) a friend on Facebook who is Spanish posted this on my page. 

'Black people are the origin of all modern humanity, and they have deep culture and have proved to be great at all sciences and arts. Don't let anyone make you feel bad. This is just wrong. Don't get that negativity get into you, they are just haters.'

He's an outcast too.  His wife told me that since he's blonde he doesn't fit in well with the other Spaniards and is often discriminated against.  People mistake him for being a German.  His words were a great comfort.  

So outcasts can recognize each other.  Some of us choose to be outcasts.  For others being behind the glass not being able to touch and only looking in is a choice.  I think about ascetics that choose that way.  Sometimes you have to become the outcast, desire nothing, seek nothing or no one to really understand the meaning of this life and thus evolve into a better person.  

Best not to break the glass at this time...

Embarrassment: Why I'm Still a Beginner at Turkish

There is no excuse.  I am embarrassed and quite ashamed of myself the more I think about it. 

My Turkish ability is still very limited, and there is no excuse for it except for laziness and indecisiveness.  I am very embarrassed to say that I have studied Turkish in an erratic manner since 2003 when I first came to this country as a wide-eyed tourist.  It's 2015 and I'm still at the beginner level.  

Also I never developed a good strategy to learn the language. I relied too much on one or two books.  But then again the resources to learn Turkish were rather limited in my town. The first book I used was published in the early 60s with the result that some of the vocabulary was out of date. I also did not avail myself of the Internet where there are some rather good resources.  

So here I am, but somehow me and the Turks understand each other even in situations where their English is nil and mine is almost nil.  I know a lot of words, but my aptitude at composing sentences is not good.  I do understand how Turkish works and the logic behind it.  I realize that I'm going to need more than the Teach Yourself Series which is relatively good. Much more is required.  Two weeks ago I bought a grammar and dialogue book from D&R bookstore inside the mall up the street from here.  Bookstores went into extinction at the mall in my town some years ago.  Once there was one on both floors and they were my chief reason to hang out at the mall. Amazon more than likely hasten their demise.  It's a good feeling to live very near to a bookstore here which does carry a few books in English and some Turkish language resources.

I also came to realize that I did not spend enough time studying daily.  When I got myself in my last study routine previous to coming back to Turkey I only applied myself to the language about 30 to 45 minutes a day.  I believed that more time would overload my brain and that I would forget everything.  Maybe just studying in snippets daily would help, but I was probably wrong.  Anyway, forgetting is a natural part of language learning. Words will eventually stick over time.  Some are easier to remember than others.  

Also mentally  little demons of doubt encroached telling me, "You just might be a little too old to learn a language.  You probably will be about 60 before you grasp Turkish."  I would try not to think such negative thoughts because I knew they were nonsense. I had read that learning a new language is good for the brain at any age. Also in the last two years starting at age 51 I began to have a few problems with my memory.  It seems to be leveling out now, and I appear to be returning to my old self with a very sharp ability to recall and retain things.  But hitting my 50s brought in an entire landfill of self doubt.  I always had self esteem issues, but it never affected my love and desire to learn.  I have such admiration for people who are bi- or multi-lingual. America discourages people from learning languages. Having the capability to speak another language is almost perceived by some as un-American, treasonous. This is catastrophic ignorance which is really going to hurt and is already hurting Americans in international forums.  I feel one of several signs of an educated and cultured person is the ability to speak more than one language.  

So I have begun to use several books and the internet, and I feel I will eventually be able to communicate well enough in Turkish.  I need persistance which is an important tactic in learning any language.  You will remain at one level if there is fear and a lack of persistance.  

Now my task is to try to stay on track in my studies.  One advantage I have is that I am not afraid to make mistakes.  

Snow in Eskişehir and My Experiences

Happy New Year!  Eskişehir municipality sent up about five minutes of fireworks at midnight New Years. I could see them out of my living room window. I was disappointed they didn't last longer.  By the time I had my camera ready, the color and explosions were over. 

In five days I will have been teaching and living in Eskişehir, Turkey for three months Over the last several months I've had mixed feelings: positive, negative, excitement, fear, anxiety, loneliness.  Sometimes the loneliness is excruciating.  It's not that the Turks are anti-social like so many in the US are, but there is a barrier between me and them, language. Here my race is not a barrier the way it is in the states.  Turks do not seem to expect the worse of me or prejudge me the way some people do back home because of the color of my skin. Some are just delighted to see a black person and would like to get to know me. 

It began to snow here four days ago. The snow started to come down on Tuesday morning. I woke up to it, the flakes quietly falling to the ground most of the day.  I was very very worried about having to go outside and falling. On Tuesdays I don't have a regular class in the evenings, but I do have a private student and conversation club which totals three hours of work.  Tuesday afternoon I discovered that my private student had sent an e-mail overnight saying that he wouldn't be coming to meet me at school.  His car had broke down again and the weather was just too bad he wrote.  I called my boss and told her this, expecting that no one would probably show up for conversation club.  She told me to stay at home, and if anyone came she would phone me.  About an hour before conversation club was scheduled, she phoned me and said one student had already arrived.  I told her OK I was coming, but I would be slow.  

It snows on average every five or six years where I live in northeast Georgia.  However, things have changed a bit in the last few years.  About two or three years ago it showed at Christmas and again the following January.  Even in my parents' lifetimes they'd never experienced snow twice in a short time span.  Here in Eskişehir it's cold and snow is very common.  In fact, some hope for snow because I was told if it doesn't s snow the winter will be painfully cold.  The school lost two American teachers last year because they said Eskişehir's cold weather was too much for them, I hear.  I also hear that Erzurum is the coldest place in Turkey, and I might have ended up there.  A language school in Erzurum wrote to me requesting an interview just one day after I was hired by this school.  I am glad I didn't go to Erzurum.  I might not have survived the low temperatures.  I am surviving here, and I am both surprised and proud of myself.

Tuesday evening when I was told I would have to come to school for my one hour conversation club I was very worried.  Several scenes flashed through my head.  What if I fell?  What I fell and broke my hip or hurt my knees?  I have knee problems, so I was afraid I might be too stiff to walk.  What if my YakTrax (snow grips that I attach to my boots) wouldn't stay on?  My boss' description of YakTrax are very clever.  When I showed them to her, she smiled and said "They are snow tires for the shoes."  All of my anxiety turned out for nought.  Yes, the snow had piled up outside reaching somewhere between my ankles and my knees I discovered when I went outside on my way to school.  One of my neighbors, a young guy was downstairs at the front door waiting for someone, I know because a company car pulled up.  He held the door for me and I went out moving very slow and unsure.  He said something to me which I imagined might have been "Be careful." I took my first steps in all that deep snow, the deepest I'd seen in person in my entire life.  The YakTrax worked perfectly in the narrow path of packed snow that people had made running through the apartment's courtyard out to the street.  Once I got out on the street and walked further along I felt more confident that I wouldn't topple over.  I arrived at the school without any broken bones, and it was the same on the return home.  I was a little afraid of some of the snow that was banked up, but as for slipping on any snow or ice I felt less and less uneasy.  I still took my time and was careful though. I also discovered that my knee problems had disappeared in the snowy air.

On New Years Eve I ventured out again to go to the nearby mall to purchase minutes and messaging for my cellphone (here it's called a mobile phone), buy a newly discovered olive oil soap I just love, and some warmer gloves.  I picked my way along my street in the packed snow and ice.  As I was gingerly nearing the curb leading off my street a young man came up beside me and took my arm. I was not afraid because I realize he saw that I was going so slow as if I was afraid I might fall.  He said something in Turkish and helped me up on to the curb.  I thanked him twice in Turkish and he went on his way.  Nearly always when I go out someone will help me even if I do not ask.  Turks like to help and I've heard this is a characteristic of many people who live in this part of the world whether in Asia, Africa, or parts of Eastern Europe.  I've said on here before that I do not follow femininist idealogy.  I understand that men and women are different and that we compliment each other.  It's not about superiority or inferiority.  So I didn't feel insulted or weak because that guy helped me, in fact I felt honored.  I don't speak for other women, but I happen to appreciate such gallantry.  

When I go into stores and shops, often some of the Turks brighten up with excitement. There are black people around here (Africans) but they are scattered around and I only see some on occasion.  At the pharmacy that I go to near my apartment, an older man works there, perhaps he's the owner.  He also speaks some English.  There are several women who work there too, an older woman who is perhaps his wife, a middle aged woman, and a young woman.  The older man and woman are always extra excited when I come in.  I use a mix of English and Turkish there, and the older man does the same.  Today when I picked my way to the pharmacy they all welcomed me and he told me to sit down and relax before I made my purchase.  Often I think about Walmart and its' greeters back home, most them stand at the store entrance not greeting any of the customers or only the ones they probably know.  Some of them will not greet you if you are black.  This has happened to me a few times.  The people coming behind me who were white, they would greet.  Both the white and black greeters have done this, but I expect this kind of behavior in the US. Here when I enter 98% of the stores I will be told "Hoşgeldiniz"  which is "Welcome" in Turkish and I always answer back with "Hoşbulduk" which is "Glad to be here" or "I'm honored."  There are a number stock phrases the Turks use to show courtesy, concern, or appreciation.  To me this is showing culture. 

Also today on my way to the pharmacy and the market, a middle aged man took my hand and helped me up onto the sidewalk as I was crossing the street through some water and ice.  I am gradually becoming more comfortable out now.  The first time I came to work in Turkey in 2004 a lot of Turks would stare right through me.  I mean almost not blink an eye and just stare.  Some would be in cars, look up and see me on the bus and start smiling and waving.  I have been sitting at the busstop and some on a passing bus would look down and start waving.  I was younger than and just so happy to be in a place where people were not intimidated by my skin color. I felt like a celebrity, but now that time has passed and I'm older I prefer just to be a bit anonymous in the crowd.  

The weather forecast says it will snow off and on over the next week.  Today it has not snowed and the sky seemed as if it would reveal the sun.  Yesterday it snowed a great deal during the afternoon.  The air here feels so pure and healthy the way it does after a snow. I saw a disturbing sight when I was walking along this afternoon on my way to the pharmacy and the market.  A stray cat was lying dead on the sidewalk; I suppose a victim of the cold. Temporary I felt very sad (I like cats), but I walked on by and got my mind back to making sure I kept my footing in the snow and ice.  Today at the pharmacy they marvelled at my YakTrax.  I am beginning to understand Turkish more even though I cannot always respond. The older woman was saying they are like snow tires.  I responded in Turkish telling her yes they are snow shoes.

It is both difficult and wonderful here.  There is such a thing as good stress. And this is it I sometimes believe.

Once Again In Turkey

Two months ago my life was totally different.  I existed in a different world.  Now I am learning to exist again in this new world where I have been several times before.  

I am back in Turkey again.  Close to three months ago I was offered a job by a language school in the city of Eskişehir  on the Anatolian (Asian) side of Turkey.  Eskişehir lies east of Istanbul sort of between that city and the capital city Ankara.  Until I came two months ago, I had never been to this city before.

In early October I took the four hour bus ride to here the next day after arriving in Istanbul, and I was the only foreigner and black person on the bus. I was strangely comfortable and very happy to just be away from America.  I absolutely find the country hideous now, and it's unlivable to me. My homesickness for there only concerns my family, especially my mother, and some minor conveniences such as having a car to put a lot of groceries in the trunk.  I also miss my books.  In Turkey I am too afraid to drive, so outside of having a vehicle to convey my groceries home, I also do not miss having a car with me.  

In August I started to apply to Turkish universities for English instructor positions. Here my masters degree will generally be adequate since I am a native speaker of English.  I knew it was very late in the year, but I send my CV to several schools anyway.  Then I learned from one of my Turkish friends on Twitter that because I'm not a Turkish citizen I would not be considered for a position at a government run Turkish institution of higher learning.  My best hope would be with private universities which Turkey has many.  By that time I had sent off my CV to several state schools, but then I took the detour and started to send them off to some of Turkey's private universities.  Spring would have been the best time to apply, but for the last few years I've been indecisive about going back to Turkey.  I feared international conflict, and Turkey has had its' share of unrest.  I finally made up my mind in the summer because my life was at a terrible stagnant point.  I had thought that maybe I would take the risk and return to teaching in the public schools back home, but the process of getting fully back in the system is nonsensical and highly unfair. The new curriculum implemented by the state and just the general quality of students in America rendered the situation highly undesirable for me.  I also wanted to go to a place where some tradition, history, and respect for teachers were still left.  Being a black person America was suffocating.  I had been told by others to get out, and I also wanted very much to flee and maybe find a sense of purpose somewhere.

I did hear from one of Turkey's better universities, Bilkent University in Ankara. I was told that my application would be kept on file and considered for the school year of 2015.  The woman who received my application materials also told me to feel free to contact her anytime.  This was in late August just before schools and universities would restart in Turkey.  I had worked for three other language schools and was very wary about dealing with anymore of them.  My negative experience had always been housing. After living in a hotel in the Beyoglu district of the Istanbul the first time I worked in the country and having to deal with a psychopathic female roommate in Izmit, I was not optimistic my try this time would be any better.  I loved working with Turkish students, and being a black person in Turkey has its' pluses at times, but Turkish language schools do not have a good reputation in some ESL forums, and my experience with the roof over my head had been negative, until this time.  

I have been in Eskişehir the city of one of Turkey's greatest poets Yunus Emre and Turkish philosopher and humorist Nasreddin Hoca for two months.  Oxford House College is my employer.  The owners are a husband and wife who are both university professors, two people I have a lot of respect for and like a lot. The manager is the niece of the owner (the husband). I like her very much as well. The school is in its' second year and trying to attract more students.  I've been encouraged to give ideas to help in attracting students.  The school is a floor in an upscale office building near the center of the city.  The books are good and the equipment (technology) for the classrooms is modern. I live in a furnished apartment just walking distance from the school. The business is family run, so the atmosphere is like a family.  One of my weekend students said last week when the class did an activity about the best and worst aspects of the city that Oxford House was where the friendliest people in the city are.  But this is Turkey and whereever I go I usually meet Turks who are friendly, courteous, curious, and helpful.  Most Turkish people cannot speak English or know very little, but even the ones who don't will try to communicate.  They want to know what nation you are from.  I never hear anyone call me black here, the Turkish word is "siyah."  I just hear "foreign" (yabancı).  

Getting acclimated to Turkey again has been difficult this time.  I am older now and going through what can be a difficult period for a woman. This year I really was struck hard by the affects of perimenopause.  At times my emotions are like a seesaw, but I try to fight off the doldrums, and I have support both here and back home.  

Before I came to Turkey this time around I heard from schools in Bursa, Erzurum, Konya, all in Turkey, and I also heard from schools in China.  I applied directly to schools, and did not come here under the auspices of any program. I also advertised myself once again on ESL Teachers Board and Dave's ESL Cafe as I've done in the past.  How I connected with my current employer through an advertisement was that posted on ESL Teachers Board saying that they were seeking a native English speaker to teach classes and for anyone who was interested to send an e-mail for information.  I did so in late July or early August, and didn't hear anything until about a month later.  I had almost forgotten that I had answered the advertisement e-mail by that time.  

In less than a month and a half of job of searching I had heard from a few language schools and one university.  There are educated people in the US who have searched for jobs for years and cannot find anything. In fact the news is that many people have given up completely on finding work in the US and that the government tries to hide how bad things really are by not including the ones who ceased looking by not mentioning their numbers in unemployment statistics.  Many people are also so frustrated by the climate on many jobs in the states that they don't want to work.  When my uncle died just before I came to Turkey I was talking to one of my cousins.  She hadn't worked in two years and is college educated. Before her father (my uncle) died of cancer, she had helped her mother to take care of him. My cousin is about 56 years old, and she is not old or in poor health from what I can see, but she told me she doesn't want to work.  She hinted that since she has no family and obligations that she doesn't feel an urge to work. I felt sad for her. She isn't a very old person. Surely there is something she would like to do besides watching TV everyday or being on a computer.  On American jobs there is often the feeling of isolation and competition.  Some people reject this climate, and don't want to work.  Yes, plenty of people are lazy, but some just don't care for the atmosphere on a lot of American jobs. On all the Turkish jobs where I've worked I never noticed this coldness and competition to the extent I've it seen in the US.  The isolation, backstabbing, and just general iciness will wear people down.  Most Americans never grow out of being in very tight cliques that are suspicious or hostile to new comers.  But that is the way it is back home, and why the overall society has drifted so far into abnormality.  Turkey like everywhere has shortcomings, but here humanity still lives unlike in the US where only a tiny minority of people are trying to retain what is sane and good.  

I will end here.  There is so much to tell, and I hope to become more active on this blog now that I have a lot to write about and am eager to share my thoughts and experiences.  Certainly I am in a place where there are little wonders daily, and those little wonders restore my faith in humanity. 

You Are in My Bloodstream

*Sorry again for the white highlights in this post.

How does it happen that someone can get inside another person's bloodstream?   Can it still happen in these times of selfishness and alienation?  Is it still possible to love someone intensely and they will love you back allowing you to climb over and jump into their bloodstream?  

Lately I have been thinking a lot of the beautiful words from the Bible book of Ruth in which Ruth tells her mother-in-law Naomi:

"Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God."

These words came about after the death of Ruth's husband.  Naomi tells her to turn and go back to her own country and remarry over there.  Today some will say this is strange for a woman to tell another woman unless perhaps there are some homosexual tendencies, all in the ignorance of only being able to see life beyond how it is today especially in the West with its' empty relationships and lack of values.  In my parents' generation there were often life time friendships and marriages.  People were loyal. People did not allow their egos, their personal ideologies to rule and ruin everything.   I am sure it was certainly like that in Ruth's era.  

Today in the country where I live I am the majority, a single person alone.  It got this way because fewer and fewer people would not allow themselves to think and do more like Ruth. Ruth swallowed her pride and loved her mother-in-law I believe in a pure and respectful way, and because she did, followed Naomi to her homeland, and even worked to support herself and Naomi in Boaz's field, and because of this she found a good husband in Boaz. Naomi was in Ruth's bloodstream and it all led to a better future for her.  She did not have too much pride and reject her mother-in-law's advice when she told her to go where Boaz was sleeping, lie at his feet, and then plead her case as a poor widow.  Boaz had heard of Ruth's loyalty and had seen her working in his fields, so he married her after she came to him.  It didn't all end with Ruth's and Boaz's marriage and in their lifetime either. Centuries later Jesus/Issa was born from their lineage.  We have to find the good and lasting things somehow in this life.  We must find the right person's bloodstream to climb into, and if it is the right one he or she will also climb into our bloodstream.  It will not end since true love and loyalty never dies. 

I love Sufi poetry.  The Sufi poets talk almost always about love, a spiritual love that returns back up to Allah.  Allah is the Arabic name for God, and even Middle Eastern Christians call Him Allah, so I have started thinking more often of HIm as Allah.  There is nothing wrong with the name.  But as for love in Sufi poetry, I believe it can also apply to the human, men and women, a higher and joyful love that is rare to come by but is possible to come by. Rumi wrote, 'Dance in your blood.'   Abu Said Abil Khair wrote, 'Love came flowed like blood beneath the skin, through veins emptied me of myself filled me with the Beloved.'  This is divine love and because in this culture and society we rarely find any balance and have any divine love we cannot connect with people the right way.  People have sex first, but they never connect on a psychological and spiritual level.  We cannot find a lasting love with another person because of this.  Love today is attached too much to the material and the self.  No one wants to become transparent and selfless because they have been taught that to become so you are being weak, you are giving someone else power over you, it is far too dangerous to trust anyone. So we end up alone.  

 All this matter about love and being inside someone's bloodstream and they in return, came into my mind this morning after I fell asleep briefly following an asthma attack.  I have been an asthmatic for several years now.  The only time it faded away was when I lived in Turkey, which seemed to have a climate conducive to eradicating it.  But this summer it seems to be fading away even here.  My asthma is also tied to my emotions.  I can get upset or fearful and then an attack will come. Autumn has arrived in the air this week especially at night and in the mornings.  I slept with my window open over night to get some fresh air.  This morning I felt stressed and sad, and I had an attack, so I took my inhaler, prayed, and fell asleep. For some years I had stopped having dreams, but this year I have started to dream again. Often they are nondescript which I cannot remember, but I recalled my dream this morning.  I had lost something I loved. I will not say what.  I was panicking and suffocating in my dream.  It seemed so real, and then I woke up.  I felt so much happiness and relief that the dream was not true.  After I had fully awaken the idea of the bloodstream and love came to mind. 

I have allowed myself to love in this life and be really hurt.  I have witnessed people who do not know how to love and who take their spouses for granted. They are attached while I remained alone too prideful to admit I was lonely.  In the past I allowed someone to get into my bloodstream, but I was not in his, I believe.  Perhaps if I had been more patient and not left he might have matured and climbed into mine into my bloodstream.  He was not an American or a Westerner and was from a culture where many people are not afraid to be close and communicate.  I don't know though.  I blame myself for so much at this point in my life, but I also blame the society I was born into that was ready to place the cuffs on the day I was born.  

Now I do not know if it is a waste of time to hope that someone will ever see me as worthy enough to climb into my bloodstream.  I feel that I can make the climb, but will I be wasting my time and be devastated again? I tend to give so much, put my heart into things. 

I've gotten used to devastation and unfairness.  It does hurt to feel that my life has been cursed because I was born in the wrong place and time.  I just smile and somehow try to live the rest of what's left of my life.  I really hope the river will flow to the sea of love if there is any possibility left in this world.  You are in my bloodstream.