Sorry about the late thursday update. Busy week as always. But, it’s still a thursday update! Time to smoke a cigarette and let Q back in.
Does anyone remember their first journey out of their home alone? Mine was when I was in middle school.
Before then, I’ve already been to several countries with my parents. We traveled around the world. I got a terrible fever in Singapore. I drew a comic book with Spider-Man and Ninja Turtles in Antalya. Rode a bike with a large number four printed up front in Paris; it had three wheels. None of these really count as leaving home alone, because I wasn’t. My parents where always with me; even when I was lost in Cyprus.
Then, in middle school I wanted to stop taking the bus to school and take a train, then a boat. Best memories of my entire life, were on those train rides and boat voyages. Outside, there was always a bone chilling cold breeze. Inside, was a whole another experience. Everyone was tightly packed in these large rooms. It was always full. Everything was always full back in Turkey. The boats, The trains, The buses. In the boats, in the morning, they would turn on the heater that stank. People stank. Breath and sweat was in the air. The chilling cold air outside was always the better choice.
The trains were another story. We would jump on them illegally, so we didn’t have to pay. We also had to sneak around the crowd and the wagons to avoid the man in the dark blue uniform.
His job was to check people’s tickets. And, we never had those. Never bought them anyway. Sometimes and old man would give us his and we would sneak around solo and passed that one ticket around as we all got checked. I think he always knew what was really going on and didn’t care.
Now, I drive. I just go outside my house and go to work.
I used to drive up and down a mountain. That was really fun. In fact, that’s the road where I learned how to drive a car. 74 Highway. Two lane road where tourists would be too afraid to drive or take the turnouts. Sometimes, people flew off that road. Sometimes, there was a gang of bikers.
I don’t live there anymore. I live in a place with only one, small hill. Not on the way to work. But every once in a while I take that road and as long as there’s a curvy road that takes me home, I’m happy.
So, I’ll be editing the website for the next few hours and things might look wonky for a bit. Because, I love doing this while the site is live and I don’t know any other way. Anyway, If you’re confused and the text doesn’t look good for a bit, and things aren’t in tip top shape you can always scroll around and find this image below to calm you down. If the blog posts are alive. I might take this down after I’m done editing or keep it here for a future:
