How do you describe yourself every time I ask you!

How Are You?


I don’t mean your social situation.

Or how your day was.

Or how your year is going,
or your emotional life.

Maybe I mean all of that.

But you’ll answer kindly:


“I’m good.”
“OK.”
“Traveling.”
“Lost.”
“Big loss.”


So I ask you again

How are you?


The way I feel you.

Your mission.
Your journey.


Did you wake up happy and healthy?

Where is your mind today?

Is your spirit still alive?
the way your loved ones hoped it would be?

Are they still walking the same path?

Do you still feel the pain
from your great loss in life?

Do you feel lonely?
Broken-hearted?


Did you have breakfast?
and talk about the fight
between the neighbors on New Year’s?


New plans for the garden?

Did you drink your morning tea?
Or your black coffee as you usually do?


Did morning sports and meditation go well?

Did you enjoy your morning music?

Are you hoping today will be better than yesterday?


With better dreams,
better actions,
better people?


Do you believe
You’ll be happier
and that daily struggles
will slowly become lighter?


Are you excited to meet your friends?

To move to another place?

To feel the moment
And the movement?


Wait.


You’re not completely fine.

You don’t yet know your plans for the day.

Your pain hasn’t fully healed.

The bread isn’t warm enough.

And the tea is getting colder.


It’s okay.

All of this will pass

and you might even learn
to like cold tea.


How many kilometers did you ride?

How many people did you meet?

How many did you lose?

How many times did you laugh out loud?


Did you keep cooking healthy food?

Did you share your cookies?
With your people?


Are your best friends still the same?

How do you do?


So let’s continue

How are you?


Far away from ordinary talk
and normal conversations,

How do you describe yourself
Every time I ask you,


“How are you - Now?”

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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