Sira ✨

 I had to learn how to give peace. To give peace to all the unreturned things people, moments, and feelings. I was on a road trip in the Flinders Ranges, South Australia, When I forgot my favourite scarf from Spain somewhere along the road. It was strange, because I barely lose things. I’m known for keeping things in good shape and not losing them. So somehow, I was experiencing a new feeling about myself. It was hard to search for it. I looked everywhere we had been bars, restaurants, camping sites, but not a single sign. I felt grief about the situation, a moment of sadness, but also a quiet decision to let it go. I kept the picture, hoping Someone would find it and appreciate it. I reminded myself of my minimalism journey, where you sometimes have to give things up to make space for new things and still appreciate what you once had, and learn: Love people, use things, and appreciate both in their own time. I had to learn the grief of letting go of people I once ...

“I HAVE NO ENERGY LEFT” I said that after doing my best. I have no fight left in me for those who have no dignity, for those who are different in a good or bad way, just different. The ones who don’t align with my values. The ones who choose themselves over others, Who listens to one side and refuse to hear the other. Who thinks twice before giving, who think twice before loving, who think twice about sharing their food not only that, but carry such heavy moods they make you question your own goodness, as if it’s not enough, or not as worthy as theirs. Those who see the world differently who decides who is right and who is wrong, who deserves land more than another, Who deserves a visa? a paper, or even a mother. To the politicians’ anger. To women-haters. I had no energy left in me. To those who cannot dream. To those who do not dare. To live life I wish to spare myself. To the greedy. To the needy. To the ones who do not dare to dream, yet still dare to scream!

Waves of sadness I grew up with the idea that I had to resist certain feelings especially sad or “negative” ones. So we end up not being very connected to them, even though I think we should be. Usually, when someone is crying, Someone else tries to shut it down and says, “Don’t cry.” Take kids, for example. Mothers feel sad when their babies cry, even though crying at that age Is their language the way they express their needs. And it’s completely normal in the journey of growing up human. Friends will ask you to stop crying. People will comfort you by saying that no one “nothing.” deserves your tears. I know all that. I’ve been there. I know how it feels. But then I had a big wave of depression When I was younger so deep that I forgot what joy felt like. Even during those waves, I was somehow calm in certain ways, as if God was protecting me from myself. Sadness became proof that I existed. So I wrote a lot, many sad things. One day, a friend I knew back then stopped talking to me. H...

"It’s not about being right; it's about observing people." -Vailcan people- It was the first thing this drunk man said. It was kind of interesting. He came closer and kept talking. The first thought that came to my mind was: “Take wisdom from the mouths of crazy people.” Somehow, it was true until it wasn’t. He talked a lot, mostly about his personal journey and life, which was of no interest to me at all, But I let him speak. Until he suddenly raised his voice at me and said: “Why the fucking Muslim prays in the street in front of the cathedral and not in the fucking mosque?” He said it angrily. I kept listening. I kept observing. It took me years of my life to learn how to stay calm in such moments when it comes to almost any topic. I don’t react easily. I don’t get angry, especially in the last few years, After burnout taught me silence. I listened to the voice in my head, looked into his eyes, and wondered: What do I see there? Racism? Fear? Ignorance? All of it? I wo...

Twice, Perhaps! You’ll live the same experience twice, perhaps. Once with the first rush of excitement. Once with the memory of disappointment. And once again when you tell it all. You’ll wear the same clothes twice Once when you get rejected, Once you get promoted, Once you break in, Once when you break up. You’ll climb a mountain to die, And you’ll climb the same mountain to live. You’ll feel love for a person, and later, feel something entirely different toward the same one. You’ll sleep in the same bed, crying from happiness and sleep in that same bed, crying from sadness, and other nights, crying from loneliness. You’ll be a prisoner of love. And another time, Love will set you free. You’ll ride the horse with fear. And you’ll cross the land on the same horse, free. You’ll live your life once, perhaps once as it happens, and once as you choose how to live it.

 We are beyond love Our love is hanging there somewhere Where things are flying And the birds are singing It’s hanging in places we can’t reach I was full of love one day Full of fear for the next few days Just like that Until I met you You took all my love The love I carried over the years Been taken at once Over and over And there’s nothing more to say Nothing more left to do It’s just me hanging there Again Once more Disappointed  Loved Taken care of Alone but never lonely

You asked me about the weather, And I was surprised. We hadn’t spoken in a while. I don’t know what I want from you. You don’t know what you want from me. But somehow, we both know what we want in life and that is a mystery. “I wanted a lover,” I said. You looked at me, wondering if I was joking. But honey, no. That’s the point of a lover. Someone who carries love with care. Someone who doesn’t break hearts, who doesn’t make you feel apart. “A lover,” I said. And that was my weather. It seems you didn’t like it too stormy, too windy, too mysterious, not serious enough. But honey, a man who kisses another doesn’t become a lover. And having a child doesn’t make a man a parent. A mother is not a title to be called, but an action that never falls. Meanwhile, I look at the sun, and my day goes on. Meanwhile, I look at the tree, and I feel so free. That was my weather. That’s where I like to be.

Maybe an Activist I don’t know why people think I’m an activist. Maybe I was. Maybe I am. I honestly don’t know. But I do what I can. I do it for the people. I do it for my heart. I do it for reasons that cannot be separated. The West and the East The fight has gone too far. How has our humanity changed? I wonder. There is still so much to protect, to maintain. “I want freedom,” I said. But there is no freedom without liberation. Since when Did those who speak out become afraid? Afraid to raise their voices, to step outside, to face life and death. They say stories are written by superpowers. But I want to fight to liberate. The people of the West need  to understand the East. The people of the East need  to understand the West. To free us from the love We were taught to hate. To my people All people, it is now. And it is never too late.