Know your locals, listen to them!

Know your locals, listen to them!



Moving to Athens can be overwhelming
Moving in General can be overwhelming 
Moving is living

And living is not always as easy as the books or movies describe
and it has its own letting go, fear, and free
It's powerful and gives you superpowers somehow

I've been moving around a lot
For life, for love, and many times for a story

Moving in, moving out
Breaking in, breaking up
Feeling everything and other times nothing

I've crossed oceans and deserts
And in every place there was a story
That's what I finally understood
Travelling is about understanding ourselves, boundaries, people, and their stories

Since I moved in, my everyday life has been ongoing
Sometimes I feel I didn’t have a moment
To breathe or to exercise or even to observe life as I would like to

I saw Terrisa, who sells the famous Feta cheese in Athens
She has this beautiful smile and her beautiful blue eyes
I just felt that whatever she gives me, I will enjoy it

I kept meeting her weekly, sometimes I go just to say hi
With time, I got to know her story
Her family, her daughter, her faith and beliefs

Then I met Phillip
who's over 70 owns a herb shop with his brother
a traveler, full of story
I got the best tea in town from him, and honey

Then I met my local barista, bakery
All those people who are from here or from somewhere else

We all met here at this time for a universal reason, maybe!
It's luck or destiny to be able to meet someone 
At the same time and in the same space
Lots of people are passing by your day
Most of them are actually meeting

Next time you're passing by
Take a moment
have eye contact with a smile
and ask your local, how they really are

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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