>Be Veteran police officer with 29 years of duty >At PKK protest,a banned terrorist group >people shouting at you ‘fuck the police’ and ‘get out of here’ >people blocking traffic and ambulances >people get in your face >’Don’t tell me what to do in my country’ >Under investigation for ‘’’’’’racism’’’’’’ and possibly fired for ‘gross misconduct’
His response: “It’s purely a statement of fact that this is my country” “Officers are afraid to do their job because of this pc idiocy” “Stalinist thought police & oppressive political correctness”
And then there are nights like these, when my body craves the touch of another. No need for sex, just a head against my chest and a hand to hold. Another heartbeat to feel besides my own, while the night carries on unbothered and the rain pitter-patters against the windowpanes, calmness and warmth being the only things allowed in our space.
Dive in the depths of my sea and pretend that stars are not found in heaven, and pearls shine bright just the same; that my blood breathes life to countless things while I bathe in cruelty and pain. Feel how my wave caresses your ego, and how it turned me salty and dry. Think of all my fail attempts to raise my voice for you to hear me bleeding, and see how I fell to an even deeper hole each time I try.
Darling, love is not painted with the brightest of colors. It is a gradient plain of smiles and tears, of hopes and fears.
Can you even hear my heartbeat? The blood that trickles down my wrist, how can you not see it? How can you choose to see what’s only beautiful to your eyes and not embrace the things you despise?
You told me you love me as bright as the sun, and as constant as the stars that paints our evening sky. Yet every time I try to cry for your help, I feel like a ghost, a lost soul that you suddenly cannot be bothered to see, and all my tears and pleas fall to deaf ears. How many times will you pretend that my tears are raindrops from the sky and my sobs echoes of thunder? How many pieces should my heart be shattered just for you to know that I’m in pain? Or should I cut you with its shard for you to have at least a little glimpse of my torment?
Darling, love is not only the upbeat music you listen to when you are happy. Love is also the melancholic ballads that seduce your tears to fall at every note.
Oh my sweet clueless sprout, hear me.
When you love something, it is either you will accept nothing or you will embrace everything.
Imagine the day that Iris wins a Pulitzer on the show. Everyone is so happy for her and she gets to shine. Of course, Barry will be the happiest of all. Celebrations occur after, and Barry takes her to Jitter’s rooftop to propose. 🌞