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Y O U R E Y E S O N L Y
• Turkey 2025. 46% of adults in Turkey report feeling lonely,
and as digital interactions replace face-to-face connections,
technology is widening the gap instead of bridging it.
easier to. Our cities, our homes, and even our
workspaces often feel designed to keep us
apart. We continue to create environments that
prioritize efficiency over intimacy, convenience
and monetary gain over community, but the
real cost is larger than money could ever be.
So, what’s the solution? It’s not about ditching
technology or moving to a commune (though,
hey, no judgment). It’s about being intentional.
It’s about carving out spaces—both physical and
emotional—where real connection can happen.
It’s about creating rituals that bring us together,
whether it’s a weekly dinner with friends, a
genuine chat with a friend instead of an Instagram
story, or even just a habit of looking people in
the eye when you say hello. It’s about recognizing
that connection is more of a lifeline than a luxury.
This is where design—whether it’s architecture,
urban planning, or even the layout of a coffee
shop—can play a subtle but powerful role. It’s the
kind of design that quietly nudges us toward each
other. A park bench placed just so, a communal
table in a café, a street designed for strolling
rather than speeding. Correct us if we’re wrong,
but the feeling of having a significant connection
with a few people could be way more rewarding
than having a few hundred people know what
time you woke up and went to the gym this
morning. Not that you shouldn’t post that, though.
As with everything in life, a healthy balance is
probably best. If you can’t beat them, you could
just join the same social media platform as them.
But design alone won’t save us. Connection is
not an instantaneous miracle; it’s a two-way
street. It requires vulnerability, effort, and an
acknowledgment that there is something greater
to be experienced beyond an online showreel
of bucket-list items and “look at me” moments.
Things will get awkward, and uncomfortable
silences may become more commonplace—
but here’s the thing: everyone’s feeling it. We’re
all walking around with a quiet, bone-deep
ache, a longing to be seen and understood.
At the end of the day, we’re all human.