come ile ilgili sözler

We wouldn't call you human, for we know that you are Divine and that the word human has so much charge to it that implies you are separate from Source. Also we dont say human because your origin is not Earth. Within you are other incarnations from other planet, as well as the consciousness of your particular role in deciding to come to Earth at this time.

Sizi insan olarak

tanımlamıyoruz, çünkü İlahi olduğunuzu biliyoruz ve insan kelimesi, Kaynak'tan ayrı olduğunuz anlamına gelir ki bu çok fazla yükü(olumsuz) barındırır. Ayrıca insan demiyoruz çünkü sizin kökeniniz Dünya değil. İçinizde diğer gezegenlerde başka enkarnasyonlara sahip olarınızın yanı sıra, şu anda Dünya'ya gelmeye karar vermenizde özel rolünüzün bilinci de

vardır.

Daha iyi kavrayabilmek için Göktürk - Anunnakiler kitabı okunabilir.

Behaviors such as flank biting, tail sucking, and feather plucking may be more common than we think, at least in certain breeds. Up to 70 percent of Dobermans, for example, will develop time-consuming and often distressing repetitive actions, including but not limited to self-injury. Nicholas Dodman, a veterinarian at Tufts University, treats and researches compulsive behaviors in horses and dogs.

Dodman and his colleagues at the University of Massachusetts and MIT have identified a genetic region on canine chromosome 7 that is associated with an increased risk of a dog’s developing what they call canine compulsive disorder (CCD).
Whether OCD in humans and CCD in dogs are the same disorder is hard to say. In human beings we make a diagnosis of OCD when obsessional thoughts drive

compulsive behaviors. In contrast, with animals, all veterinarians have in order to make a diagnosis are the behaviors. Without a common language, they have no way of determining whether obsessions underlie the animal’s perseverative practices.
When owners bring in pets who circle furniture for hours, do backflips to the point of physical exhaustion, or rub their skin to the point of

breakage and bleeding, veterinarians sometimes describe these behaviors as “stereotypies.” At the extreme end of the spectrum are head banging, picking, poking, and gouging. In some cases, especially in birds, compulsive vocalization is considered a stereotypy with possible connections to Tourette’s syndrome in humans. For veterinarians, any behavior on this spectrum, even the milder end,

merits concern and intervention.
Many of the compulsive behaviors seen in horses, reptiles, birds, dogs, and humans share core clinical features, including the potential to cause suffering and profoundly disrupt a patient’s life. But many also share an intriguing connection to cleaning activities. You’ve probably heard about the repetitive hand washing practiced by many OCD sufferers.

Similarly, a stressed cat may go overboard with a feline’s cleaning tool of choice, its raspy tongue. Veterinarians have come up with a colloquial term that cuts right to the heart of what’s going on here. They call it, simply, “overgrooming.”

Within days after the outbreak of the war with Russia, Armenian deputies in the Ottoman Parliament vociferously, and to the loud acclaim of their fellow Muslim colleagues, inveighed against Russia. In the 25 April 1877 session, for example, the Armenian deputy from Aleppo, Manouk Kharadjian (Karaca), was in the forefront of those repudiating Russian claims that they, the Russians, were coming as

the protectors of the Christians. He categorically declared that the Armenians did not need Russian protection, as they were content with their lot. He added that the Armenians of his disctrict were ready to make any sacrifice in defense of their Ottoman fatherland. [27] Istanbul's Armenian deputy, Sebuh Maksudian, subscribed to the view expressed by his Armenian colleague and proposed that the

government come up with a project to maximize the ability of the Chirstians to serve the state. Edirne's Armenian deputy, Roupen, reiterated the point that the Armenians he represented could never accept Russian protection and were ready to make every sacrifice to repel the aggression of Russia. [28] In his speech, Erzurum's Armenian deputy, Hamazasb Ballarian, endorsed the views of his Armenian

colleagues, adding: "Ever since they lost their independence, the Armenians for five hundred years have been able to preserve their religion, language and nationhood under Ottoman rule." He was seconded in his view by Daniel Karadjian, the other Armenian deputy from Erzurum, adding that "Armenian and Muslim brothers are armed together and that in order to serve as an example to my compatriots, I

too enlisted as a simple soldier." [29]

--

27. Kutay, Türkiye [n.15], vol. 10, pp.6502-3.
28. Nourikhan, Zhamanagagitz [n.11], pp. 372-3.
29. Kutay, Türkiye [n. 15], vol. 10, pp. 6512, 6524-5; Varantian, Haigagan [n. 22], p. 134-6.

Dancing, back when I was little girl, was simply to twirl as fast as I could, then abruptly stop, arms over my head for balance, barely able to catch my breath while the walls blurred around me.
First you spin.
Then the room does.
Even when you hold still, if you’ve been moving too fast, the world around you keeps going. Even when you want to see clearly, you can’t. At least

not right away. You have to wait for everything to come back into focus. And as the dizziness fades, sometimes there’s that little pulse of nausea. The sick reality.

Here is something I believe: I believe that people don’t know how people work when they’re young and maybe that’s why we’re so reckless with each other when we’re young.
I think people think that people come and go, in and out of life and I think that school teaches them that, that life changes in big annual movements, that one year you’re this and the next, you’re that. But

life blends into itself as you get older and you realise, you will watch a few, if not many, of your friends get old.
You will watch them lose their minds and their hair. You will watch them get sick and get better. You will watch them succeed and fail.
You will watch them get married, get divorced, get pregnant and yes, eventually, you will watch them die. Or they will watch you

die.
So this is what I believe friendship means. And I’m sorry to have to put such a heavy burden on you. But you have put the same burden on me.

mom,
my depression is a shape shifter;
one day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear, the next, it’s the bear.
those days i play dead until the bear leaves me alone.
i call the bad days the dark days.  

mom says try lighting candles.

when i see a candle, i see the flesh of a church. the flicker of life sparks a memory younger than

noon; i am standing beside her open casket, it is the moment i realize every person i ever come to know will someday die.
besides, mom, i’m not afraid of the dark, perhaps that is part of the problem.  

mom says
i thought the problem was that you can’t get out of bed?

i can’t. anxiety holds me hostage inside of my house, inside of my head.  

mom says
where did anxiety come from?

anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town depression felt obligated to bring to the party. mom, i am the party.
only, i am a party i don’t want to be at.  

mom says
why don’t you try going to actual parties? see your friends.

sure, i make plans. i make plans but i don’t want to go. i make

plans because i know i should want to go, i know at some point i would have wanted to go, it’s just not that much fun having fun when you don’t want to have fun.
mom, each night, insomnia sweeps me up into its arms, dips me in the kitchen by the small glow of stove light. insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company.  

mom says
try

counting sheep.

my mind can only count reasons to stay awake. so i go for walks, mom, but my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with loose wrists. they ring in my ears like clumsy church bells, reminding me i am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness i cannot baptize myself in.  

mom says
happy is a decision.

my happy is a

high fever that will break. my happy is as hollow as a pin-pricked egg.  

mom says
i am so good at making something out of nothing, and then flat out asks me if i am afraid of dying.
no, i am afraid of living.
mom, i am lonely.
i think i learnt it when dad left; how to turn the anger into lonely, the lonely into busy. when i tell you i’ve been super busy

lately, i mean i’ve been falling asleep watching sportscenter on the couch to avoid confronting the empty side of my bed. my depression always drags me back to my bed until my bones are the forgotten fossils of a skeleton sunken city. my mouth, a boneyard of teeth broken from biting down on themselves. the hollow auditorium of my chest swoons with echoes of a heartbeat, but i am a careless

tourist here, i will never truly know everywhere i have been.  

mom still doesn’t understand .
mom, can’t you see?
neither do i.