Mystery of Youth

There is always so much hidden in youth. The lies, the made up stories, the questions. We feel like everything is clear and far from complex, yet there is always so much to dig out. The treasures hidden underneath years and years worth of age. Living in it feels pure, simple and flowing. But that's only what you assume as you observe other people living their youth. Years and years passing hide the truth, dust from the years cover up the reality. As more years pass the dust becomes thicker and the reality disappears little by little. All the feelings, memories, emotions are kept in mystery. One that will never be solved. Ever.
Looking back at it makes youth seem factual, but it never is.

Youth

Youth & Ode; Intimations of Immortality

Youth by Joseph Conrad and Ode; Intimations of Immortality by Williams Wordsworth are written about a similar topic. Both texts talk about the youth of the narrators. Even though they have different views of youth they also have some ideas that are very similar. Marlow, the narrator in Joseph Conrad’s Youth, remembers his youth as  “the feeling that will never come back any more- the feeling that he could last for ever, outlast the sea, the earth, and all men.” In William Wordsworth’s poem, the narrator believes that “The things which he has seen, he can see no more” now that his youth has passed.                                                                                                             

Williams uses a lot of imagery from nature. He thinks that what amazed him and saw differently when he was younger pass all passed and even though nature stays forever his appreciation for it. For him after his youth, “But yet I know, where’er I go, that there hath past away a glory from the earth.” For Marlow looking back at his youth makes him remember the glamour of it and the joy of it. He enjoys looking back at his youth because he like the point o view he had towards life itself as a twenty-two year old in his first experience as a second mate.      
                                           

But both narrators agree that there is something special, enchanting about youth, which made them feel like they were invincible, that they would live forever. For both of them how they view the world was different as they lived their youth. For Williams Wordsworth in youth, you have a deeper appreciation for nature because you come from heaven as a baby and therefore nature feels like going back to the place you came from.                                 
                                                                             

Marlow also feels the same way about how youth sees things differently than they are. What Marlow says about the ship is a good example for this. “O youth! The strength of it, the faith of it, the imagination of it! To me she was not an old rattle-trap carting about the world a lot of coal for a freight- to me she was the endeavour, the test, the trial of life.” Judea might be an old and rotten ship for anybody looking at him but as a young man, Marlow looked at “her” with affection and pleasure.

Once I Was, But Now I'm...

Once I Was Young, But Now I am Perfect

Once I played hopscotch
But now I have IB

Once I put a hazelnut in my nostril
But now I put books in my bag

Once I played in the sand
But now I play on the streets

Once I kicked my little cousin
But now I embrace the moments we had

Once we ventured through Holland
But now were rotting in Ankara

Once I believed in pink elephants
But now I smoke them

Once we thought school was hard
But now we know it is

Once Santa came with gifts
But now I know better

Once school amused me
But now it bores me

Once Dr. Seuss took me to wonderland
But now he’s six feet under

Once I wore pink hair
But now I wear brown

Once I wanted to grow up
But now I want to be smaller

Sasha&Cansu&Murat

Change of Tune

This monster make a man

Stained with grief

Tears running down his beard like winter’s drops

Drowning,

Called forth the mutinous winds

Dreadful thunder-claps

A strange, hollow and confused noise

A goddess

Hum about mine ears

Marvelous sweet music

Makes this place paradise

C.A.Y.

Weird Sisters

You've Got Mail

Dribbles of curling dryed ooze

paraffin puddles coating

the old letters stacked in dust

reaching the sky,

miles of memories separate

envelope sealed with the touch of a tongue

letters orbiting the longing of souls.

Butterflies flutter and the letter,

slips into the dusty pile

once vibrant now forgotten.

-Cansu&Murat