so i haven’t written in almost a month. to be honest, i have been suffering from a post-paris depression, which impeded my writing abilities. not only that has suffered from this pseudo-depression, but other things have taken their share too: i have this kind of cultural add which stops me from concentrating entirely on a book. i am simultaneously “reading” three books at the same time, and i started watching 4 movies but didn’t get past the 30 minute mark.

so, what have i been doing during the past 2 weeks i spent in istanbul? not much, really. i found an internship last week and began it on monday – for the biggest turkish brewery, efes pilsen. (on which i will write something soon) i have, of course, been hanging out with my high school friends, something which i still enjoy a lot. but otherwise, nothing. sitting idly at home and watching the world cup games, or killing time in front of the computer. what else is there to do, anyways? that’s not abnormal at all, and can hardly be stated as being depressed.

so, what is this depression thing about? (third paragraph that begins with a so. they could go forever, you know) sure, i have left the most awesome city on earth after having spent 5 months in it (my friends disagree with this statement, but they have neither lived in in paris for 4 months or have travelled to 8 countries in 4 months, so screw them.) sure, my street in paris had the best boulangerie ever whereas my street here has stray dogs and it is like a river whenever it rains. sure, you can eat the best duck and foie gras and other delicacies in paris whereas in istanbul the best thing to get is a kebap. but on the other hand, i pay 5 euros for a beer at a bar in paris whereas i pay half the price here, and anything in istanbul is half the price of those in paris. and come on, if paris is the most awesome city on earth, istanbul is definitely in the top 5. besides, it’s home. home is good.

there’s something else, something not physical or earthly that is the reason of my depression; i was free, as free as i have never been before, and i know i will never be as free as i have been there. it’s not a matter of “college! no parents! ice cream for breakfast!” kind of thing, if so, i would be amazingly happy in middlebury as well. first and foremost, it’s a matter of responsibility. although i studied at a really annoying school, i never studied all that much, and (hopefully) got (relatively) good grades. secondly, and most importantly, it’s the possibilities that my freedom entailed. all of europe was “my oyster now,” ryanair, vueling, easyjet, wizzair and an interrail pass, coupled with hostelworld.com and amazing friends to travel with, gave me endless possibilities to wander around. en revanche, i had nothing to account to: so what happens if i go out on a tuesday night and come back at 6am although i have class the next day? as long as i do a lowly oral presentation decently and don’t skip more than 3 courses, i’m golden. someone’s birthday, the need to try cheese with wine, st patrick’s day, rare sunny weather were all reasons to celebrate and feast upon. what if i decide to go to northern france before a week of exposes? germany and the netherlands during my reading period for finals? belgium on another weekend? as the influential poet, john mayer says, who says i can’t get stoned? (john, if you’re reading this, noone says you can’t get stoned. neither to you nor to me. we both can get stoned.)

what is worse is what’s coming up: my senior year is so promising as a hell that it’s looming upon me already. work applications, possibly grad school applications, the need to maintain/increase my gpa are all things that will surely make next year one of the busiest. talk about responsibilities and freedom there.

they say the end of college is the end of a “bubble” and that real life would eat you up. but i’ve lived in a bigger bubble for the past 5 months, and boy was it the best bubble ever. but the bubble burst, and this very moment i am in my cubicle in one of the worst districts of istanbul, waiting for my next brain-stimulating assignment. come september, i’ll fly to freezing, work-loaded, depression-propelling vermont, more stressed than ever, waiting for godots that are the results of work/grad school applications.

until then, all that remains from europe are various postcards and posters that i have already decorated my room in istanbul with. my paris metro map, my van gogh poster, my prague museum of communism postcards, my belgian beers and heineken postcards, my east germany flag, and memories from the museums i’ve visited. and of course, hundreds of pictures put up and tagged on facebook to remember the best semester ever. closure is important, and my dreams have finally caught up four nights ago to take place in istanbul rather than in paris or europe.

but there is really nothing, nothing we can do.
love must be forgotten. life can always start up anew.