Obsession with Istanbul
It took me long time to get to Istanbul; I flew back and forth through it and every time I would glimpse at the city from the airport window and wonder when I am going to come back to actually see the city. And finally I did. It was a trap.
There is a cliché about Istanbul, being mix of this and that, I have to tell you – it’s all nonsense. It is not mix of anything. Istanbul stands on its own and has its own unique and incomprehensible character.
I probably would not be able to live in Istanbul. I don’t think it would be good for me; it exhausts me with its chaos and bad traffic, tires me with its non-acceptance and endless flow of questions about where I am from, challenges my every sense while I try to understand and grasp it, but regardless of that I am drawn to it.
It’s like an obsession with something that is so different and incomprehensible, that makes me want to come back and understand, fail at understanding, give up and leave just to come back again just to try again.
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