You have taught us a lot about the traffic of the city to us. I didn't know if it was a complaint or thank you. I didn't think much of it.
Get up early in the morning and prepare you for the sketch.
How beautiful it is, a woman preparing her day to day, feeling her every step she takes.
You've reminded us of the deliberately moving Istanbul traffic.
You taught us the benefit of not rushing us. In the car we were riding fast, the road without looking at the state of the two pale roads, the pain of getting stuck in traffic. And then we try to analyze our mistakes in an effort to get away from the long-haul traffic. You've been very generous about what we do when we do what we do.
We've been making very unusual decisions, and we decided not to move.
We've learned from you to try to find new ways in an attempt to catch up. Opportunity to jump to the first road we see and the journey of repentance and growing regret. And trying to find an even shorter path through the doom.
On the paths where repeated returns turn into disappearances, we find ourselves disappearing and finding ourselves.
Too many times to go the wrong way, get lost and too late to give up and say good.
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