One day I'm in Turkey, the other day in Poland.
I see places I've not seen for 5 months.
Why do they seem so strange..?
Why do I feel as if I were not at home?
My room - is not my room.
My bed? This is not my bed. It's just a remain of something I used to sleep on in the past.
My room does not look solid.. as if it were to fall like
a heap of dry leaves on the wind..
My true room was in Turkey, in Tepe Otel, room 525.
My home was in Turkey in Samsun.
My best Erasmus friend, Jaume..
I've met a lot of people and it may be cruel, but true...
..that I may not see them again.
You meet people you know you will not meet again.
This is what makes me sad.
This is what tears my heart.
This is my torture, my personal torment.
And this world? This country? This city?
I hate it.
Nothing will be the same.
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