From Istanbul to London to Porto: A Glitch in the Currency

So here I am. In Porto. Touching a tree like a weirdo and getting stared at like I just cast a spell on the sidewalk. And honestly? That’s when it hit me.

I’m not from here. Not just geographically, energetically. I was born in Turkey. Which, let’s be real, is not a country. It’s a multiverse.

My blood probably carries Greek drama, Eastern mysticism, Ottoman rage, Balkan flair, and Shamanic ghost codes, and that’s just the maternal side. Turkey is chaos, yes. But it’s divine chaos. Rich. Layered. Paradoxical. A place where you can scream, pray, and start a business before breakfast. It’s a country that makes no sense on paper, but somehow works. The currency? Total disaster. The energy? Full bodied espresso shot of soul.

Then came London.

Ah, London. The emotionally constipated empire that gaslights you with politeness.

I’ve lived there long enough to see it: The system isn’t broken. It’s working exactly as designed, to keep people smart but passive, sharp but disconnected, performing excellence but avoiding feeling.

Unless you’re an international. Then, congratulations, you’re the electricity. We’re the ones who show up hungry. Who see the glitches. Who don’t politely look away. We’re the ones organizing the unseen, building the new timelines while the locals are still buffering.

London is the kind of place that hands you a megaphone and then tells you to lower your voice.

It taught me how to observe systems. And how not to disappear inside them.

Fast forward: Porto. Present day.

Lovely city. Really. Pretty tiles. Smells like fresh bread and sea salt. But the frequency? Flatline.

I walk through the streets, and no one is looking up. No one’s plugged into the layers. Not in a spiritual way, not in a chaotic way, just… not at all. And this is where I realized something kind of wild:

Currency is not value. Money is not voltage. Euro doesn’t equal frequency.

Because in Turkey, the Lira is tanking but the energy is rich. In Portugal, the Euro is stable but the field is flat.

So I’ve come to this semi-goofy, semi-true theory:

Some countries have expensive currencies but cheap energy. Others have worthless money but priceless soul. And some, like the UK, run a fully glitching matrix program with internationals keeping the WiFi on.

Anyway. Just a little report from a tree-hugging Turkish girl currently overthinking in Europe.

I’ll keep walking. Keep testing signals. Keep decoding the systems that pretend to be whole.

And wherever the next portal is, I’ll know it by how alive my body feels.

Because I’ve lived in the dead zones. And babe, I run on soul voltage now.

Love,

T