I changed  the sheets of my bed alone yesterday, just because Pebble person walks outside and has some babies hair. And my arm is not working, again, now. It’s enough for me to sleep and to wake up. When I wake up, i find new dysformations on my body. It was worse when it could be torture but nobody wants to say a single word about torture here. Here and now. It makes you look mad, it’s only you who is mad and you are the only person to think of such things. 

It starts with not having a developed and ethical health system for anything you might have: you have to hide your wounds, hide your fears and negative emotions. A psychotherapy system for every single citizen also would have been useful. For free, for anybody. There are many less successful kind of graduates, those who graduate from the higher education institutions which focus solely on money and on earning with an enourmous amount of human trafficking… I can never know wha human trafficking means, quite like terror… they are the worst things which can happen to people. Really bad things which influence humanity together with an individual and/or a group subjected to that particular “treatment”. When there is no violence around you, when you can appreciate arts and a life of the mind, you can forget easily how it feels to be harmed in such a fundamental way.

What happened at the local court?

My mother’s lawyer started causing accidents: he would find me on my way to my car, he would be able to share my home address with other people who started coming to my home, who started harming the street. It always got worse when I applied for a conference and when i got accepted. The hidden thing liked to watch movement more than anything. When i cannot move, they have other fake legal reasons to harass me, to push me into a corner of my own and to make me feel weak: they all have many people with whom they support themselves. It is these little clusters which are interlinked. They sent me police officers to my home several times, just because the fake public servants of the next building were corrupt. 

Corruption is not a simple term in Cyprus, it has a lot to do with the way in which the social and political structures have been formed. I didn’t want to learn what happened at the establishment of these structures, not more than what was allowed through local education. Local education about the Cyprus problem, at the same time, was not the same as the global education. They made a mindset, they made fear… They created an identity for the Turkish Cypriot community entirely isolated from the world. When I worked for the World Press, when I did translation and academic work, I became a “target”. I still cannot be certain of my words, of these specific terms… Why would I be a target if this is not a war? The fact of the matter is that, it actually is! It is a social warfare, not just economic or biological, in which those who are less “informed”, those who got good intentions and a love of humanity in their hearts, get harmed more. Because they “like” us more, it is easier. They created a system of bestiality, of anti-intellectual work, a system of abuse with participation from their not so bookish boy children… Their sons. They made their sons powerful in their terrorist grouping. Is it the only way for me to grow up? To grow into a structure which has a large number of people in it and appears to be normal just because it is plentiful in persons? That’s so bad! It is closely linked with the fake university in Famagusta: they use that place as a step for the better functioning of an economic system which has give and take appearing to be legal. False legality replaced any authenticity, anything real. 

The only thing which is real is: blood. Despite this, they had the talent in taking away my own family. They keep establishing failed families, love for money, every single day. Every day, one more woman loves, for money. The fake court has nothing to do with authenticity. They never want to say sorry, they never could really help. But i had to stay there and wait for them to do their jobs, to help me with my mother’s marital application. A divorce was the only option they had for us. She had to apply for that, alone. And for a ten year time period which they took from us, perhaps even longer, they locked her into an entirely new cognitive system. I got more aggressive men following me around my home and forcing me to leave. I had new and changing policemen coming to my home, where I had nobody, to make me sign a new document stating that I am a “defendant for physically harming” the very man who attacked me. It is an attack and i dont have the words, i just cannot accept what he did. Because like Pebble and Cuddle, I cannot recognise so much harm in my emotional world. Did you see the torture pictures of the “inmates” or the “prisoners” close to the Nicosia Mall? Is it the happy place or a place of fear? It is close by. What does it mean, to have had torture here, in the past? Is it still present? They established new camps such as Pournara and they can call their victims “the refugees”. They create suspects for themselves, for the kinds of sick joys that they have. The Nazi crimes are real, and they continue. Only in different formats: the reshaping of the minority groups, the simple ‘labeling’ of us as ‘criminals’ and forcing me to live as a ‘suspect’ for an armed organisation which actually did have a court order about itself from an international human rights court. How chan there be such a big difference? That those who provide my physical security here are actually criminals in the world… This is not about the past, about the Cyprus problem. It is about today, and how impossible life has been made, for me. It’s about everything the organisation(s) can steal and it has less to do with the individuals making their own choices. Your own Dad cannot choose to call you or not, they got threats. Especially if they earn more than the public servants. The public servants are always safe but they don’t like anybody else to have the assets that they have. It is Socialismus Zypriotishe. 

Nobody can see it, nobody can know what’s going on… We can’t know what “Pournara Campå” means or what is happening there. For years by now… I actually don’t. Will they have other lives, will I have another life, or is this the only reality? After they push you into solitude with their group warnings, they create a ‘solitary confinement’ home for you. In which you can eat but not get treated. Because those who gave you treatment in the past can also “change”. How do we change so much, really? How do the authorities manage money, and the society? They got the talent in taking away the financial resources and using it for terrorist purposes. You can only hide, like they find it worthy for themselves. I won’t.