Dreaming of Istanbul

Just about to head to bed, I couldn't help but write one last entry for the day. The entry isn't about the day, but what I am to expect as I drift away in my sleep. Lately, I've been dreaming a lot more about Istanbul and the only symptom that I could attribute to this tendency is nostalgia. Every night before I go to sleep, I stare for a couple of minutes at the collage of vintage postcards of Istanbul I have on my wall before my eye lids become heavy and I doze off. What's truly bewildering though is that I dream of passages from my Istanbul diaries, where the words jump out and replay the memories that enriched my memories of Istanbul. What's more, I hear them calling out to me to return to the jewel of the Ottoman Empire. Nowadays, I seldom write in my diary because my days are monotonous, but in my dreams, I hear the words of my diary whine like little children needing attention. They call for me to finish writing their story, or rather my complete my Istanbul memories. They miss the days when I would frantically strive to record every valuable memory so that it wouldn't slip away. More than ever, I have been revisiting a short entry that I wrote during my last night in Istanbul:

"Never have I been so enchanted, so hypnotized by a city's charm before..."

Actually, I realize that I am unable to continue... There are some memories of Istanbul that are too sacred to and too personal to expose. Maybe I'll have the opportunity to disclose them when I reunite with my beloved city...
Goodnight.