Ramadan •••

And the 'GOOD' Muslim!


 When I was down under last year,

A friend told me they were going through a journey

A journey of absolute emotional expression.

They felt they needed to experience everything fully,

to say everything aloud,

and to stop hiding their innermost feelings.

They asked me to accompany them on that journey,

to be their friend along the path.

I agreed.

Partly out of curiosity,

partly because I wondered

what it would awaken in me.

So I surrendered to it all

the anger,

the irritation,

the uncomfortable honesty.

We spoke closely,

sometimes too closely,

again and again,

about what displeased us,

What hurt us,

What we found difficult in each other.

And eventually,

I felt the need to express myself more, too.

More feelings.

More truth.

Even my anger.

For a time,

Anger came out of me

in a way that felt unfamiliar.

And I found that fascinating.

Because anger is never just one emotion.

It carries many others within it

Hurt, disappointment, fear, and exhaustion.

It moves with force,

with a strength that feels as if it might burst through the body itself.

It is heavy.

So heavy that sometimes

The heart can no longer hold it.

What I realized was that anger is powerful.

A moving force.

An energy that can protect you,

but also destroy what stands too close.

It can illuminate,

But it can also create chaos.

At times, I felt anger was more frightening than hate.

Hate can remain distant, almost cold.

But anger burns from within.

It demands action.

It craves movement, reaction, explosion.

And for a while,

I was afraid of it —

afraid of what might emerge

When feelings move faster than understanding.

I learned that expressing anger

is not the same as losing control of it.

And that learning to sit with anger,

to hear it without surrendering to it,

is not something we achieve once.

It is a lifelong process.

We learn it slowly, piece by piece

how to soften it,

how to understand what it protects,

How to let it pass

without leaving destruction behind.

Anger taught me

where my boundaries are.

But it also taught me

How easily power becomes pain

when it is not held gently.

And maybe that is the work of a lifetime

not to erase anger,

but to learn how to carry it

without losing ourselves.

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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