Day Before Journal

Yesterday was December 14th. I really love croissants. Especially in the morning, in their simplest form. Without anything extra on top just dough, butter, and time. But I realized something: every country reinterprets the croissant. Some change the dough, some the butter, some the baking method. Under the same name, completely different characters emerge. And this isn’t just about pastry. It’s ab...

Yesterday was December 13. While getting a shave, I found myself thinking. The barber’s chair is a strange place. One of the rare spaces where a person knowingly becomes defenseless. I lean my head slightly back. My eyes are half-closed. I willingly place my throat under the blade held by another person. We don’t do this anywhere else. Our instincts wouldn’t allow it. But in the barber’s chair, th...

Yesterday was December 12. I’ve always liked special dates. Like 12.12… As if even the numbers lined up to ask me to pause and think. Yesterday, I found myself thinking about relationships. I don’t know whether love was stronger in the past or whether we were simply looking at it differently, but I feel like something has been cut off cleanly, like a knife. As if the algorithm of love has changed....

Yesterday was December 11. Yesterday, I spoke with a friend. Whenever I talk to them, there’s a quiet tension inside me. Not because of their tone of voice, but because their voice is being recorded. They constantly record sound in whatever space they’re in. Not only phone calls the room, the table, everyday life… As if every place they inhabit is also an archive. Something happened to them in the...

Yesterday was December 10th. A strange reluctance settled over me that day. Even picking up my pen felt heavy. I don’t usually force myself to write; but yesterday my mind kept searching for excuses not to write. Then I wondered: “What would happen if I didn’t write today?”

Yesterday was December 9th. I learned something strange that day. They told me that some of the “poisons” used to kill weeds are not poisons at all. They are hormones designed not to destroy the plant, but to force it to grow too fast. When I heard that sentence, my mind froze. So the way to kill a plant is not to weaken it, but to push it into growth it cannot handle. When a weed absorbs this hor...

Yesterday was December 8th. I normally do not enjoy reading the news. It always feels too fresh, too loud, as if events are served to people before they have even finished cooking. A rushed flavor, and an environment that is far too open to manipulation. So I have always kept my distance from the news. But yesterday I came across a headline that made me think not about the event itself but about t...

Yesterday was December 7th Like every Sunday, I began the day with the same ritual: a quiet cup of coffee in a corner. It is not the taste I love the most. It is the short pause it creates, a small opening in my mind, a moment where I step out of life’s noise and return to myself. After finishing my coffee, I walked toward the restroom and noticed a long row of tables in the distance. Dozens of pe...

Yesterday was December 6th. As I was walking down the street, a faint melody drifted through the air. I followed the sound and saw a small church choir giving an impromptu outdoor concert. Nothing planned, nothing grand just one of those rare moments that appear on their own and quietly make you stop. I’ve always loved the season of Christmas. The colors, the lights, the way people seem to look at...

Yesterday was December 5. While wandering through an electronics store, my eyes drifted toward the newest televisions on display. And in that moment, an old door inside my mind creaked open. A childhood memory I hadn’t touched in years came quietly back to me. As a child, I loved taking things apart. Opening something up and seeing how it worked was more fascinating to me than playing with it. Tha...

Yesterday was December 4. While walking toward the shore in the late afternoon, I passed by a seafood restaurant. Sheets of paper were spread across the tables, and on those papers I heard the crack of shells, small snapping sounds, and the strange seriousness with which people were cleaning crabs. It felt almost like a ritual. My eyes caught on one detail the claws of the crabs. In nature they lo...

Yesterday was December 3rd. When I woke up in the morning, there was nothing inside me. No excitement, no heaviness, no meaning… As if life had switched itself to “empty” for the day. I was carrying myself like a guest in my own day. “I won’t get a story out of today,” I thought. “This day isn’t even worth writing about.” Then suddenly, a friend came by. The conversation started with something as...

Yesterday was November 28, 2025. During my lunch break, I walked to that hotel again. Lately it feels like a small escape point for me a quiet place where I can slip out of the rhythm of the city and return to my own. And of course, the real reason: the latte the barista makes. He prepares it as if he pours not just coffee into the cup, but a little attention, a little character. The foam is soft,...

Yesterday was December 2. The moment I woke up, there was a strange tremor inside me. It felt as if I was not rising from a bed, but emerging out of a darkness. For an instant I thought I was back in a womb; then I sensed that silent void pushing me outward, toward another realm. It felt as if I were being born. Familiar and ancient, like a memory from before memory. This thought stayed with me th...

Yesterday was December 1. There was a heaviness in me that I could not fully name. It was neither sadness nor anger. It felt as if my mind wanted to say something but could not finish its own sentence. Inside that heaviness, I forced myself to think. For some time I had been aware of a simple truth: I am a philosophy writer who has never sold a single book. Accepting this brings both a strange pea...

Yesterday was November 30, 2025. While walking yesterday, I noticed a simple yet strange truth about myself. I have begun to enjoy taking different paths. In the past I did not like new routes. A street I walked for the first time always felt longer, as if time stretched a little and my steps sank into that stretch. When I turned into an unfamiliar road, the distance widened, corners drifted farth...

November 29, 2025.A morning filled with white signs a silent white cat, impossible white blossoms, reflections that all echoed the same color. What seemed like a strange aesthetic symmetry gradually unfolded into something deeper: a reminder of how reality often hides its sharpest truths behind flawless surfaces. Later, the date revealed the memory of the Sand Creek Massacre of 1864 a day when whi...

Yesterday was November 27, 2025. A simple bowl of soup turned into an unexpected reflection on misunderstandings, kindness, and the invisible currents that pass between people. An old man on a bench mistook me for the cook who made the soup I was eating. His assumption was completely wrong, yet the warmth behind it felt strangely true. Later I discovered that on the same date in 1890, Nikola Tesla...

Yesterday was November 26, 2025. I was driving the company car when a single second changed everything. I looked at my phone just to confirm a street name one second, no more. By evening, that second had turned into a fine almost equal to one third of my salary. Strangely, it matched exactly the amount I had saved. It wasn’t the money that shook me. It was the feeling that life waits silently, tak...

Yesterday was November 25, 2025. Near my workplace, there is a disabled cat I often see missing its rear right leg. Yesterday I brought food for it. The way it growled was not aggression but a tired reminder of the space it needed. When I stepped back, it found calm and began to eat. Watching it brought me back to the days I once spent in the hospital, when even my own body felt unfamiliar. Some w...

This is not a dated entry. This is the moment before everything begins. In this opening episode, I share the intention behind the Day Before Journal why I chose to speak instead of stay silent, why a daily reflection matters, and why every story deserves a place to land before tomorrow arrives. This journal is a commitment to presence, awareness, and the quiet discipline of showing up every day. F...