
pena
3.8K posts

pena
@dimpistike
Omnia mors aequeat / Ölüm her şeyi eşitler



Fakirlerin halinden anlamak için tuttuğumuz orucun iftar sofrası



İstanbul Çekmeköy’de öğrencisinin bıçaklı saldırısında hayatını kaybeden öğretmen Fatma Nur Çelik’in geçen yıl yaşanan bir başka bıçaklanma olayında “Can güvenliğimiz yok” diyerek disiplin kuruluna saldırgan öğrencinin adını vermiş evrensel.net/haber/5973196/…

İran doğruladı: Hamaney öldürüldü 📌 86 yaşındaki Hamaney, 1989’dan beri İran’ın dini lideriydi. 1979 İran İslam Devrimi öncesinde Şah Pehlevi yönetimine muhalefet etmiş, devrimden sonra devletin en üst kademelerinde görev almıştı. diken.com.tr/iran-dogruladi…






Mersin’de bir trafik polisi, yaya geçidinden geçen vatandaşın üstüne süren kişiye anında ceza yazdı: “Ehliyetini ver bana. Telefonla oynuyon, kemerin takılı değil, yaya önünde yolun ortasına gelmiş hâla gidiyon. Geç kenara.”

Kamuoyu Açıklaması



İzmir’de her köşe başına atılan koltukları paylaşıyorum. Dünyada çöp kutusuna en çok koltuk atmaya çalışan şehir

Am I just a monster? It's been 4 years since I became a father and I'm beginning to fear for my soul. The truth is I just don't like being around kids for very long. Historically, this is not uncommon among fathers, but today it feels almost illegal. It's causing me a lot of confusion and anguish. The ideal amount of time I would like to spend playing with my kids is probably about 70-140 minutes a week—roughly ten minutes each day, maybe 2x/day, taking breaks from work. My feelings of love toward them are perfectly strong, but if I have to watch them or entertain them for more than about 10 minutes my blood starts to boil. I just want to be working, or accomplishing something. I try to be grateful, but it doesn't work. It's 9 AM this morning, Saturday, January 3. It's a sunny, warm day here in Austin, and my four-year-old son is begging me to play catch in the street. I was drinking coffee, still waking up, so I didn’t really feel like it, but at this age his desire to play is insatiable. He begged and begged, so I conceded, and with a smile. I have no problem being a kind and loving father, the problem is only that I do not enjoy it. It's not that I'm trying to maximize my personal pleasure; it just seems wrong that I experience so little delight when my dad friends all claim to experience so much. It was beautiful. We live on a picturesque, tree-lined block. I am even relatively relaxed from the holiday rest. Playing catch with your son is supposed to be an iconic, peak experience. Yet for every single minute, on the inside, I just don't want to be there. I want to be drinking my coffee in peace. Then I feel guilty and absurdly ungrateful, and ashamed, when we're done. I know that when he is a teenager, I'll long to have these days back. I have all of this perspective rationally, and I've been very patient and steadfast trying to digest it, but nothing fixes me emotionally. Am I a terrible person? Or is my feeling within a certain range of historically normal and it's modern parenting norms that are off? Whether it's my fault or not, I don't even care, I just want to figure this out. Something is wrong and I no longer have the excuse of being new to this.







