Black & White

 My mind doesn’t think in terms of good or bad

Positive or negative. 

It feels like I wanna do or try something, and after the result, I decide whether to do it again. 

Sometimes it’s that easy, and sometimes it takes me so much.

Yesterday I was talking with my friend about how I feel so present

And I really don’t think about the past that often

I don’t think about things I’ve done

I remember when I escaped from school when I was 13

Everyone was screaming at me and making me feel guilty, and I felt that, wow, I did something big!

Then my father came and asked me;

"Do you feel guilty?" 

And I wasn’t sure, so I told him, I don’t think so

Then he asked me, " Would you like to do it again!

Then I told him, only if I have enough money, so I have food next time.


It was a 13-year-old mindset!

But that's what made me realize that I really don’t need to think too much about what I did

Because I did it, and today is the consequence, so I can know from now on.

Why am I writing this?

Because I felt writing it and sharing it

I did a lot of things in my life; bad and good things, if you wanna make categories. 

I hurt my family, my friends, my people, my love, and other people that I don’t know.

I don’t feel anything when I remember all this. I feel quite ok sometimes.

And I’m not pretending to be perfect or awesome, NO.


I believe a part of being human is to accept who I am and what I have done along my life journey

With everything I have done and want to do. 

I never wanted to be perfect or a model; 

I just wanna be the honest virgin of myself. 

I wanna keep making things (good & bad)

Not planning.

But I want to learn, learn a lot

Because I grow from every experience. 

To all the versions I once was;

I HAVE NO ENERGY LEFT

“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!
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Take wisdom from the mouths of crazy people

"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...
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To all the versions I once were;

 To all the versions I once was; To the saddest of me, the one who suffered a lot, experienced many emotions for the first time The first time, I couldn’t handle a rejection The first time I was sad about living The first time I experienced loss and death When my grandma passed away, I went to the kitchen to bake a cake, and my mom hit me and told me I was disrespectful! But I was 11 back then, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. No one taught me because no one could. To the first fear, when I first lost my mom at the shops, no one was holding my hand I was scared to death, to feel left behind, to feel the fear in every inch That fear comes with madness, and a lot of crying, you look around like crazy But my 4-year-old me didn’t know better Didn’t know how to come up with ideas beyond imagination, and then I was terrified. To the happy one, once. When I was elected in a competition, and my grandpa cried with happiness He gave me my first phone. And I remember the first time when...
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