ONE MORNING Ayse , Teksen , One morning I woke up, and I was a different person. My tongue was no longer the thing that was speaking, no longer the thing that was producing those sounds. It was somebody else’s. And what about my face? I couldn’t feel it anymore. I touched it and touched it again, but not a single damn nerve was working there. I couldn’t even write a Facebook status update or send a Tweet. The words betrayed me. Then years and years later I met you, saw you, read you. I decided to write things myself. I wrote this. See? I wrote all the things you read above. But does this make these words mine? Actually, why don’t you take them all? Come on, take them. They are yours. I insist. They look beautiful on you. Now you see what I mean.
Page 77 | The Paragon Journal