Ozycubano

An artist who dances in realms where imagination and reality entwine. In my artworks, I conjure abstract dreams, inviting you to explore uncharted horizons. Through my lens, I capture the whispers of Istanbul, the tales of Tbilisi, and the echoes of Kuwait. With each stroke and every frame, I beckon you to embark on a visual odyssey where art and photography waltz in harmony, allowing you to see the world through my kaleidoscopic vision.

• OpenSea

The Sun

Like a verse from a poem.

In the labyrinth of existence, where shadows dance and echoes whisper secrets of time, one seeks not just answers but a profound understanding. The quest for self-discovery is akin to chasing the elusive Fountain of Youth; it exists if you believe in its existence. Each step forward reveals more layers of mystery, each challenge an opportunity to grow stronger. Behind the veil of reality lies an infinite tapestry of parallel universes and alternate paths. You are but one thread among countless others, each with their own unique journey. The idea that every one of them has it all figured out is a testament to your belief in the infallibility of human understanding. Yet, how can you truly know what another's path holds when they too walk alone?

Love was perhaps the only thing I'd die for—to live knowing one is not alone and is loved and missed. It was intoxicating to me, born from an intense fear of being alone. The silence and emptiness triggered thoughts I fought to keep silent, away from my sentient life. Over these years, comparing my intellect to every human being I've met—connecting with them and trying to find someone who would understand me the way I would myself—it became clear that my experiences were unique. This culminated in a realization: one's memory is indeed a burden. It drove me insane how much I could remember and how quickly I could pull a memory from 10 years effortlessly. This made it hard to forget people; I attached myself to them because I could remember everything about them, all the common activities we had, and conversations as if they were yesterday. The ability to move on lies in forgetting—or at least part of it does. Moving on is about forgiving and making peace with what was and will be, but a core aspect is about letting go.

A basic human instinct—to forget or mask memories that cause pain or grief—was something I couldn't do. The more emotions were attached to a memory, the harder it became to let go. In my mind, everything was a spiraling web of data, carefully registered and stacked in categories. My identity was that of a vagabond—a weary traveler belonging nowhere. Circumstances dictated that I settle nowhere, never to be happy with anything. My role was that of a chapter in everyone else's story, a catalyst to something better or worse but nothing permanent. Traveling light as I went, forever in my mind that no matter what I said or did, I couldn't get what I wanted. In reality, I was the odd one out—out of place and out of time. The more I tried to fit into society, the more it felt like an impossible task. Each day brought new challenges, each moment a reminder of my isolation. But then came her—a presence that brought peace like no other. Her touch was gentle, her words kind. She saw me in ways others never did—understanding and accepting me for who I was. With her, the silence wasn't as overwhelming; instead, it was filled with warmth and understanding. Together, we faced the world hand in hand. The fear of being alone began to wane, replaced by a sense of belonging that was both comforting and exhilarating. Her love was like a balm for my soul, healing the wounds left by years of isolation. As time passed, I learned to let her go—letting go of past regrets, letting go of the idea that anything could change if I tried hard enough. It wasn't easy; there were moments when I longed for the days before she came into my life. But with each passing day, it became clearer that true happiness lay not in holding on to the past but in embracing the present and finding joy in every moment. In her presence, I found a new purpose—a reason to keep moving forward, even when things seemed impossible. The spiral web began to unravel, revealing a world filled with possibilities rather than constraints. And as I continued my journey, I knew that no matter where life took me next, she would always be there—by my side, guiding me through the darkness and illuminating the path ahead.

In my world where life is often unpredictable, I've learned that every experience holds valuable lessons. Each thread of my journey has been woven together by threads from different lands and phases in time. These lessons have come at various times—some subtle like the gentle breeze whispering secrets through leaves; others as stark as the scorching sun on a desert day.

My quest for answers was never straightforward. It felt endless, aimless—a flower planted in darkness without knowing what it needed to bloom. A gardener's job is demanding; tending, feeding, cleaning, protecting—and yet, even the most diligent caretaker can overlook duties, leading to rewards that test patience. In my mind’s background, there were strings playing a melody of lessons I never expected. They whispered of strength, patience, guidance, and wisdom. One lesson was about fighting injustice and bringing fairness to the world around me. Another taught me how to push through difficulties with grace, finding hope in divine leadership when all else seemed lost. For years, internally, I felt unworthy of many things. Happiness had always come at a heavy cost, leaving me feeling empty despite my efforts. In times when I expected nothing from life, it was falling apart brick by brick. She came into my life —a presence that brought peace like no other. The air around her smelled so pure. Months went by, and I cried for not being worthy of her. Through years of mistakes piled up, leading to this eventual realization: I had brought about the end of me, manifesting itself right in front of my eyes. She looked at me with yearning hope, a promise that someday I would succeed. Her parents loved her so dearly, fearing for her future. They wanted all the best for their cherished daughter; they were just as burdened by choice, loving her more than words could express. It was either letting her go, working on myself, or holding her close while I did, in fear of losing her forever. Eventually, we had no choice. Neither did she. We went our separate ways, not promising anything to the other. Leaving it all to fate, yet again like the years before. Paths were separated now; each one a journey built on knowledge and hope for something that might happen in the future. Knowing not what we held in our hearts but instead, a blind faith that something would come through. I don’t know what to expect. Whatever is going to happen in the future, I need to accept it.

In a world where the pen ruled, unbound by ink's drying or feather's wear, we abandoned our own voices. We ceased to write and instead embraced words dictated by the masses—slaves to whims, devoid of character, and undefined by preference. Our differences made us who we were, yet we sought acceptance in gangs and tribes, losing sight of what set us apart. This weakness was again withering away silently at my corroded soul. Amidst the deafening noise, I strive alone to circumvent the unfortunate events that sabotaged my way of living. Having said all those things before many times, it was certain to me that I wouldn’t give up. Trying to figure it out—that is all. The truth is, I don’t know who I am anymore. In the past, I took pride in everything I excelled at. Time was kind to me and my fragile mentality. A question of identity and purpose is an eternal one, transcending borders of language and understanding and posing a key obstacle to human comprehension. It sets us apart from savagery and transcends into the desire for more out of everything. As these cold fingers graze upon my face, they remind me of what I always forget: I exist not because I wanted to or was meant for something greater than I am. It is merely an opportunity to be and cherish what could have been a vast stretch of emptiness and a void that could never be filled.

The Sun as an Antagonist

The sun is not merely a source of light; it is a relentless force that tests the very essence of existence. It rises each day to banish darkness, casting long shadows across landscapes and igniting the fires of hope within me. Yet, its fiery presence can be both comforting and terrifying—its brilliance often blinding, forcing me to look away in awe. As I navigate through life's challenges, the sun acts as a constant reminder that even the brightest moments are fleeting.

Lessons in Resilience

It teaches me resilience by showcasing the beauty of sunrise after long nights of stormy weather. The sun’s fierce heat can be both painful and transformative—burning skin until it peels away to reveal new layers beneath. In my own life, I have found myself in a similar struggle with an antagonist that mirrors the sun's role. This entity is not external but internal—a force within me that drives me forward despite its inevitable conflicts. It is like the sun’s heat—necessary for growth yet painful when too intense. This inner adversary tests my resolve and forces me to confront my deepest fears. Like the sun, it reveals both my strengths and weaknesses, pushing me to evolve beyond what I thought possible. The battles with this antagonist are brutal but essential, shaping who I am in ways that no other force could. In the end, just as the sun’s warmth eventually fades into the coolness of night, so too will the pain and conflict brought about by my internal adversary. But through it all, I have learned to embrace both light and shadow—understanding that life is a dance between these extremes, each one adding depth and meaning to my existence. Honoring the sun for what it taught me—a lesson in resilience, growth, and the constant struggle against forces greater than ourselves. For even as I bask in its warmth, I must remember that true strength lies not in avoiding conflict but in facing it head-on, emerging stronger on the other side.

Observer

Knowledge, but at what cost?

It was a perfect day in the Autumn of 2016, though it hardly felt like one. School wasn’t bad—at least not compared to some of the stories I’d heard—but it wasn’t without its share of bullies and the occasional racist remark. I’d learned to deflect it, to absorb the sting with silence, observing everything from the sidelines. Satire became my shield, a way to make sense of the fractures in the big picture. People fascinated me. They always had. Around me, they carried an air of mystery, their lives brimming with tragedy and unspoken desires for what had been lost and would never return. Yet, despite everything, they were connected—gracefully intertwined, as if bound by threads no one could see. They moved like a hive mind, unaware of their own synchronicity, responding to subtle cues as if pulled by an invisible force. Even then, I had a habit of viewing the world through the lens of science. Social cues reminded me of spin characteristics in a quantum system, the smallest signals setting off waves of unseen change. It was beautiful in its own way, though often unsettling, how people interacted without ever truly understanding the mechanics of what drove them.

For as long as I could remember, I had been drawn to the cosmos. Theories of astrophysics and quantum mechanics had become my escape, offering a language to describe the vastness of existence and the chaos within it. At the time, these principles were only just beginning to be understood, and that mystery consumed me. The stars didn’t judge; they didn’t care about the trivialities of human life. They simply existed, vast and unknowable, their truths just out of reach. Back on Earth, things weren’t so forgiving. Cities grew louder and denser, their streets and alleys pulling people together whether they liked it or not. With every technological advance, every new way to connect, it seemed harder to escape the opinions of others. I understood then, even at a young age, that no matter what I did, someone’s version of me would always follow. Their perceptions would seep into my identity, shaping it in ways I couldn’t control. The world felt like a stage, but not a fair one. Talent didn’t matter here—selling out did. The performers who won the most applause were the ones willing to forgo their beliefs, to strip themselves of morals and values in exchange for fame, glory, or admiration. It wasn’t just about survival; it was about who could become the most hollow, the fastest. I hated it, but I couldn’t look away. It was too intertwined with everything else, too much a part of how the world worked. I realized then that we were all part of a larger system, something vast and incomprehensible, not unlike the quantum mechanics I was so fascinated by. Every interaction, every social cue, was a variable in an equation too complex to solve.

It struck me as ironic. The very chaos I sought to understand in the stars was mirrored in the people around me. Their movements, their connections, were governed by laws as strange and mysterious as those that shaped the universe. It wasn’t a comforting thought, but it was a truth I couldn’t ignore. Looking back, I can see how much that realization shaped me. I was just a boy then, watching from the edge of the stage, trying to make sense of a world that seemed both tragic and beautiful. I didn’t know it at the time, but those early observations would stay with me, shaping the way I viewed the interconnectedness of everything. And so, even as I dreamed of distant galaxies and the secrets they held, I couldn’t help but feel tethered to this strange, entangled world. The hive mind, the quantum system, the spinning particles of human lives—it was all part of the same equation, one that would take a lifetime to solve. Just a perfect day, I thought I was someone else, someone good. Crossroads of Intellect and ignorance, not separate but interwoven, I never thought this would be my verdict on both sides. Like a feedback loop they go about defining and shaping each other, like entangled particles ever changing states. Like that gamble we all play each morning, that non-linear probability of having outcomes beyond our reach, and farther away from our expectations, would you go for another 15-minute snooze if it meant being three hours late for work?

I assume the role of the observer. It is, perhaps, the most paradoxical position to hold. You love the mystery of it—the untangling of human interaction and the unraveling of subtle connections—but observation itself changes the outcomes. By merely existing within the system, I influence the movements around me. Awareness brings consequences. I feel it most in the small things, the ripple effects of unspoken words or a passing glance. As I observe, I change. Watching others interact transforms me, sharpening my perception and pulling me deeper into the subtle currents of the world. Here, among people who guard their bubbles fiercely, who cling to their safe spaces as if warding off entropy itself, I see a chaotic equilibrium. It is dynamic, alive, a system constantly adjusting itself to maintain balance.

Even in chaos, there is order. In this city, in these streets, people are energies colliding and retreating, influencing and being influenced. It’s impossible to predict how my interactions might ripple through this network or how the system might respond to me in kind. Yet, it is undeniable that we are part of something larger—a state of perpetual flux, where the environment and the individual shape one another in ways both deliberate and unseen. This dynamic equilibrium mirrors the nature of thought itself. The concept of thinking—of formulating ideas within the confines of the mind—is one of the most profound gifts of existence. And yet, it is rarely questioned. We move through life acting on thoughts, feeling emotions, rarely pausing to consider the mechanisms at play. Consciousness, it seems, only truly exists when acted upon, when thoughts and feelings are allowed to ripple outward, connecting us to the environment that shapes us. It reminds me of the quantum field, a realm of infinite potential where particles remain undefined until observed. Thoughts, like particles, exist in an unformed state—a sea of possibilities waiting for action to collapse them into reality. The parallels between quantum mechanics and human consciousness are impossible to ignore. Our minds are like quantum fields, our thoughts entangled within the fabric of the environments we inhabit. The observer and the observed are inseparable. This means that our existence isn’t a solitary event. We co-create meaning with the world around us, our actions and surroundings locked in an intricate dance of reciprocity. The environment shapes us as much as we shape it. To exist is to participate in this ongoing exchange, to leave a mark and be marked in return. For all its complexity, this dynamic interaction feels almost sacred. It is a testament to the interconnectedness of life—a reminder that the self and the world are not separate entities but parts of a unified whole. And as I continue to observe, I find myself humbled by the realization that every ripple, every interaction, every thought contributes to the delicate balance that keeps this chaotic system alive.

I’m not what I thought, for I thought little of myself. A self-image that lacked luster. Lack of any distinct boundaries, everyone was allowed entry, everyone was given keys to influence. Having lived the life of a student for many years bringing great lessons and self-discovery. Like every good thing, this too shall end. The time has come to bring about a new chapter which embodied the lessons and morals I’ve learned and put it all into practice. Stopped by no person. No one will shake this rock I’ve built. Vagabond, traveler no more. The higher calling is here, I wait and listen for its wisdom. Artificial light bathes everything now, we are all bound by it. Blue hues that tangle the mind and enslave it. The eyes, dead and unwary, what was a window to a soul, now shines onto nothingness, of what was a mere child playing in a garden made of fantasies and dreams, lays barren and ashen a ground fertile to a void.

The answer may lie not in choosing one path but in embracing the entangled, quantum nature of being.

A sketch of who I am, shaped by the notions you’ve conceived—a reflection of your expectations, a side you want to see in everything I do. Wherever I go, judgment follows, a shadow I cannot escape. You carry shattered dreams in your hands, their edges cutting deeper with every step. Sometimes, there is no explanation, no cause for their breaking. Yet, you shout my name, as if I were the architect of your pain, as if I summoned the storm that swept it all away. I bear the weight of your blame, unspoken yet deafening, and it carves me into something I no longer recognize.

Entropy

Behold, as I obey Murphy’s Law..

From the very beginning, self-aware at the age of 8. Kuwait to India to Syria, the trifecta of countries and cultures I belonged to. All played a role in obscuring my understanding of self, my crucial developI have no interest in bringing back those memories, digging them out is not an effort worth my time. Before anything else, I fear the ghosts of my past. To being a source of entropy in this world is to be an element of chaos, random, unjust, unbiased. Those who stood next to me while I laid a torch to everything I built, detached to a point of ambiguity. The inanimate seems so real and personified, I failed to understand the wisdom behind my naïve behavior. This wisdom will soon become my best friend and companion in times spent alone, and the reason why will again enjoy the time I spend alone for the rest of my life.ment of character. Lost in the midst of the environments and their contrasts. What I know from those glimpses of what was to become my early adolescent years. I became obsessed with one thing, breaking free from the predetermined path, the choices my parents made on my behalf like they knew what it was like to be in my shoes. Torn from the inside out, I cried myself to sleep each night, feeling such conflict from within, lost in translation. The languages, the cultures, the morals. Everything had such contrast that embracing it all felt downright hypocritical to me. That word rung for ages in my head. I wanted to break free, run away and pave my own road, this would put me on a path in life no one had ever thought of. Breaking generational curses in the process, breaking records, shocking myself and everyone around me. I was a force to be reckoned with, I can do anything should I put my mind into it, seems like there was nothing I couldn’t learn, nothing I couldn’t do. Intoxicated, as if the world were now my playground, I took to collecting accolades and achievements.

It is but a small lesson that evaded all possible detections, I was one of its many victims. The art of conserving one’s energy, that one thing we take for granted growing up as teenagers. We are born of flames; their might and resilience fuel the growth and tolerance of mistakes that are our own. You allow that flame to burn out, risking the forever slumber into a mediocre role in what would seem to be another brick in the wall. I thought so, I had an urge to experience everything simultaneously, no matter what. We all felt this at least once in our lifetimes. It is but a demon lurking inside that is never satisfied, gluttony its middle name. Growing up I understood what realities were, how universes were born and destroyed, often under their own weight. Oftentimes, I took credit for solving problems that I had a hand in creating. It was no novel act, for I had been doing this without remorse for over ten years. It had to come to a stop, for when no audience was present to applaud, fixing had no incentive. There I was left with a pile of problems without solutions, and I felt nothing but the dread of the overwhelming pressure of execution, led to a stalemate among the nerves in my spine, there I felt the chill of uncertainty. Pulled the strings behind curtains, our lives enslaved to it, and we had no idea. Our time was spent escaping the great abyss we feared within ourselves, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Eventually, I will come to accept these terms. The cards were dealt to me more than two decades ago, and now I’ve no choice but to master the game. Its poker faces everywhere I turn—no one revealing a single thread of true self. And if, by chance, they do have some authenticity left, it’s hidden behind a shield of fear. No one wants to be vulnerable in a world where each person fights only for their own hand. So many genuine connections—friendships, even love—could have been cultivated, yet they lie dormant beneath the facades we wear, lost in the din of self-preservation.

Call them fools, call them survivors; either way, they will only taste the bitterness of this isolation when the years catch up and the white creeps into their hair, splitting at the ends. Then they’ll know the sting I feel now. But I see no alternative. Murphy’s Law hovers above me like a silent dealer, dictating the flow of fortunes and misfortunes. And so, I stand, resolute in my place at the table, determined to play these cards with all I’ve got—since life, it seems, won’t deal me another hand.

In the past, I often thought this never-ending grind would lead to my demise. The untimely death of a soul although burdened with weights beyond its power, managed to overcome it all. This death, however, did come. It was the death of my younger self, that one little essence I couldn’t let go of. I feared this day, feared for what would come of it, what I would have to do to survive. It was a trial of spirit, mind and soul. The test had passed, and I overcame the burdens that once troubled me at night, and the most beautiful thing was that I never saw it coming. I had given in to logic, it governed what emotion once did. Leaving behind a deep respect to those to wronged, hurt and chose to leave me without reason. It would not be for them that I reach this state of tranquility, not to be mistaken for peace.

Entropy, I brought into people’s lives. They loved me for it, satisfying their needs and wants. I was an agent of chaos, bringing about changes in everything I touched and influenced. Merely with my absence, it was no more, replaced with background noise and the irony of fate. Call it destiny that played a game, so we all crossed paths eventually, a great mediator. Hence, I go to sleep forever, feeling tranquil knowing that I was nothing but an element of chaos. Masking itself as a force of good to this world and everyone who lived in it.

Tending to worlds of pain, burdened with emotion. This all felt like the last step in our evolution, letting go of our ability to feel. This governed me still, and I would seem to never understand why I felt so. Festering thoughts that grow like poppy seeds in a field of uncertainty, nothing but chemistry served on a silver platter. A reality we should accept, children so consumed in social cues and tribal behavior, this is one lesson. A puzzle by itself with no solution, not definite at least. Any one combination of experiences could bring about this, the only difference was the time at which this change happened.

I now know of the storms lying on my horizon, yet I keep sailing because I know what I’m capable of. I am afraid of it all, courage is but fear coupled with execution. I knew that whatever was in store, it was either a lesson, a challenge or the end of the line for my journey. More doors opening, uncovering roads that prove empty and treacherous. Bringing over tranquility, not peace, for peacefulness is a great virtue but oftentimes consumes us out of many virtues.

Entropy acts as the sun’s counterpart—both essential yet potentially harmful. Just as the sun provides light and warmth that sustain life, entropy drives change and evolution. Without it, the world would remain static, devoid of growth or progress. The sun teaches us resilience through its daily cycle; similarly, entropy challenges our very existence by forcing us to adapt and grow. It is like a relentless wind that blows away dust and leaves, revealing new patterns beneath. The chaos it embodies is both painful and beautiful—destroying the old to make way for something new. I thought I had to become something spectacular—something bigger than life. But maybe being an unsolved riddle is enough. I’ve spent years trying to think differently, see differently, sense what everyone else seemed to miss. And all it got me were these dizzy spells of “Is this real?” and “Who am I?”

Funny, how each time I meet someone who stirs something inside me, I drop my guard—I forget all those red flags pinned to my memory. But the pattern’s so clear now, like a cosmic joke I finally get. Entropy—that’s the name of this chapter, and it fits. It’s the unraveling, the fracturing, the slow dance with chaos that keeps me on edge. I’m running on fumes, I’ll admit it. People say, “Oh, your frontal lobe’s finally grown up.” Maybe that’s what maturity is, but I can’t help wondering if it’s just the emptiness after the storm. Am I meant to wander alone? Maybe. Not by choice, but by necessity. Because every time I’ve tried to share the journey with someone, they were only invested until it stopped being convenient. But I have a lifeline: faith. I’m a man of God, and that somehow keeps me anchored when my reason and intuition are at war. Entropy cracked me open. It revealed just how fragile and yet how resilient I can be. And somewhere in the midst of all this chaos, I found a small, unwavering spark—hope, perhaps.

And that hope is what leads me to the Sun. Like stepping from a darkened corridor into a room flooded with light. I’m not leaving entropy behind; I’m taking what it taught me—shattered pieces and all—and walking toward the next chapter. The Sun is the promise that even after the darkest night, morning comes, and in that golden hush of dawn, I might finally see how everything that fell apart can come together in a new and brighter form.

Summoning

Banished no more, the prodigal son returns.

After almost 7 years of this cat and mouse chase, I feel anchored in my seat. Those seemingly random and immature decisions I took, were in fact uninformed and miscalculated. I won’t try to justify any one of them, instead happy and grateful for my immaturity, that one thing took me places I never thought of. To be forced to brawl Mike Tyson on the peak of a volcano, with weights strapped to my torso. This was no matter to take pride in, bringing about your own problems then taking credit for solving them. Downright celebrating that victory, we are all guilty of it, no matter of celebration, no need for pride. You got yourself here, you had to get yourself out. The lessons from immature early years came quite late in life, I was after all busy beating a path that was not meant for me. Necessary for my particular character arc, it was one where being lost for so long, makes you wonder whether you’re really lost, was it all supposed to happen. Through severe heartache, facilitating some sleepless nights and stupid decisions, realizations were attained, lessons realized into hard etched thoughts and beliefs. 7 years have passed since my first ever stupid decision, putting me on this cat and mouse chase between me and myself, future persona residing somewhere remote, to my surprise, it could be anywhere.

Staring death in the eyes, many times I felt its gaze. Ignorance is bliss, I lived by it, so ignorant to threats and dangers you would assume I had things under control. Fearless because I knew nothing, gracefully oblivious. Losing bit of innocence, parts of my younger self, eventually killing him. Hardened not in heart but will and determined to succeed no matter the cost. Paid off by the blood, sweat, and tears of his mistakes. This was not a return to the person I was before, but an emergence of someone new—someone I was always meant to be.

No one would have known that in the end I would end up in Istanbul. The city that truly tested me to the limits, brought out my strongest and weakest qualities. I was, for the first time put under a microscope, forced to perform, forced to learn and part of a never-ending rat race to a finish line no one knew was there. Getting out was the goal, figuring it out was the test. I dove into constructs of social Darwinism, the unethical was justified as long as the means served tangible returns. Everyone is out to climb that ladder; relationships were nothing but social contracts and reading between lines was the only mode of reliable communication. 4 years have passed since I first landed here, every year was packed with enough struggles and lessons that I developed an obscure sense of time here. It was measured truly by the events and evolution of my character. Emotional intelligence was something I was developing, behind curtains and despite getting good at it, I didn’t know I was being prepped for bigger things down the road. Ignorance is bliss, I was becoming less and less ignorant by the month, bliss was no more. From Artificial Intelligence concepts down to the most mundane things in our daily life. Finally bringing me to my final realization, my hunger for knowledge had come with an expensive toll, I was to understand everything but sit with the fear and helplessness of not being able to do anything about it.

The years spent in isolation weren’t just about survival; they were about construction. Every rejection, every failure, every sleepless night was a chisel to the marble of my inner self. Behind the laughter I shared with others, behind the jolly façade I wore, I was building. Brick by brick, I laid the foundation of the persona that would one day rise. This was the side of me no one had seen. I protected it like a sacred flame, ensuring that no one could extinguish it before it was ready to shine. I gave pieces of myself to others—a joke here, a helping hand there—but I never gave them the whole picture. They saw the surface, the part that kept the peace, the part that made sure I didn’t stand out too much. But behind closed doors, I was learning, growing, and becoming. I was shedding the skin of a boy who sought validation and approval. What emerged was something far greater.

I grew more compassionate despite being betrayed, heartbroken, cheated and lied to. Disappointment was an old friend; it reminded me of how naïve I was. Above everything else, I loved myself so much that I gladly shared it with those around me, every little gesture was an act of love. Necessary, for not lose myself at the end of that road, prior to being set in this country I was to never return again. Endless fighting with my parents, anger that fueled more anger. The most toxic echo chamber locked me inside its walls, I was to never reach out, never learn anything new, never question anything, only to do as I am told. After all, I was still sculpting myself, even with put in this environment it was no different than an obstacle I had to overcome, looking back at it I found solace in how I gracefully overcame such tragedies, effortlessly dancing through the pain, I processed it still but only in my own way, away from eyes and ears.

Emergence was not a single, glorious moment—it was a long, bitter struggle, a duel against the heavy chains of fear and self-doubt. Every night, I wrestled with questions that gnawed at my resolve: Would they accept who I truly was? Or would I be cast aside, a stranger in my own skin? Those worries clung like shadows to the edges of my heart. But then, slowly, something within me lit up—a tiny spark that refused to die. Each trial fanned it into a raging inferno, burning away every “What if?” and every sense of shame. I discovered that rejection is no verdict, and failure is just another plot twist in life’s endless narrative. What truly matters is stepping into the light unmasked, free from the weight of pretending.

For years, I played the secondary character in everyone else’s story. I was the helping hand, the fleeting voice behind the curtain, never the one taking center stage. No longer. The inferno inside me scorched the façade I once wore, and in its place emerged a face forged by the very fire meant to break me. Now, I find myself in a brand-new mental space, gradually embracing the shape of my own soul. In this new world, my voice doesn’t tremble; it resonates. My spirit no longer hides; it stands unfiltered in the glow of its own truth. And in that rawness, I am finally alive—reborn into a self I am proud to call my own.

There is no turning back now. The self I have uncovered—this truest version of who I am—has taken root, as immovable as the mountains that once stood in my way. I have braved raging storms and navigated labyrinths of chaos, only to emerge with an unshakeable core. This is more than a passing phase; it is the dawn of a whole new era. The road behind me is strewn with trials, and I know the path ahead will not be gentle. But fear has lost its grip on me. My confidence does not spring from a shallow sense of pride; instead, it rises from the bedrock of every wound I have endured. There is no shortage of scars, each one telling its story, each one proof of my belonging in this fight.

To those who once thought they knew me: prepare to see someone entirely different. To those who meet me for the first time: behold the person I was always meant to be. And to myself: guard well the memories of every struggle, for they have laid the foundation of all that I am becoming. Of course, there were moments of near-collapse, times when I questioned whether the weight of my dreams was too heavy to bear. But each doubt became a crossroads: either relinquish my hold on this vision or seize it all the more fiercely. My resolve was never a luxury; it was a necessity. I alone had to fight this battle, and that knowledge became the fuel driving me forward.

Yet, I have also made peace with an unsettling truth: even this version of me, as real as it feels, will one day fade and give way to yet another transformation. The concept of metamorphosis has always been close to my heart—skins crack and shells shatter to unveil the hard-won beauty beneath. Change and hardship are bound together; if I refuse to change, the same struggles will return to haunt me. So, I’ve embraced a mindset of plasticity and endurance, allowing the fires of life to mold me. Patiently, I’ve endured, trusting each struggle to shape what I will become next. And so, I walk onward, unafraid of life’s shifting winds, certain that each cycle of breaking and renewal only brings me closer to an ever more authentic self—one layer closer to the truth I was always meant to embody.

To lead with my true self also meant exposing it. The carefully constructed walls I had built to protect this inner persona now had to come down. Vulnerability is terrifying, but it’s also the birthplace of connection and authenticity. I began to realize that if I were to truly live as this new version of myself, I couldn’t hide it any longer. My scars, my failures, my regrets—they were as much a part of me as my strengths. By embracing them, I turned them into a source of power rather than shame. For so long, my worth was dictated by the opinions of others—teachers, parents, friends, strangers. Their validation was my compass, and without it, I felt adrift. But this new chapter demanded a shift in perspective. I had to be my own source of validation. Every step I took, every decision I made, I took for myself and no one else. This wasn’t selfishness; it was self-respect. By anchoring in my own sense of worth, I freed myself from the chains of external approval. This persona isn’t a fleeting phase. It’s not a mask I wear temporarily until it’s convenient to remove. It’s who I am now, and it’s who I’ll continue to be. The journey that brought me here was long and arduous, but it was also transformative. I’ve learned that growth isn’t linear. It’s messy, painful, and often feels like two steps forward and one step back. But every moment, every struggle, every triumph has been worth it.

The past is a teacher, not a dictator. It shapes us, but it doesn’t define us. The mistakes I’ve made and the hardships I’ve endured are part of my story, but they’re not the whole story. What matters is how I carry those lessons forward, how I use them to build a future that aligns with my true self. This isn’t about erasing the past; it’s about integrating it into the person I’ve become. This is the beginning of an era defined by authenticity. An era where I no longer feel the need to apologize for who I am or hide behind a facade. The world may not always accept this version of me, but that’s okay. I’m not living for the world anymore; I’m living for myself. This is my time, my journey, my life.

Having spent so much time in professional environments, offices and bureaucracy were like a puzzle. I spent years getting work done and following leadership blindly, in the long run this didn’t work well for my personal life. I was slowly embodying the worst qualities from this repetitive work environment, the people in it, and its toxic ambiance that crippled innovation and creativity, shutting down genuine thoughts and polluting what I was. A concept to learn the hard way, in the end it is what our modern world was built on.

When I first arrived in Istanbul, I carried with me an innocence—or perhaps a naivety—that I now see as both a blessing and a curse. Unaware of the silent rules governing human interactions, I operated in a world that, in retrospect, was deeply influenced by the principles of Social Darwinism. It was not just a subtle undercurrent, but a driving force that shaped the city’s social and professional dynamics. However, I was oblivious to it, insulated by a lack of emotional intelligence and a tendency to emit what I now call "golden retriever energy."

In those early years, my gullibility shielded me as much as it exposed me. My genuine, trusting nature opened doors but also left me vulnerable to manipulation and disappointment. I wore my heart on my sleeve, and for a while, this approach seemed sufficient. People responded to my unassuming demeanor, and I navigated relationships and opportunities with an almost childlike faith in the goodness of others. Yet, as time went on, cracks began to show.

By my fourth year in Istanbul, this way of being became unsustainable. The city, vibrant and relentless, tested me in ways I had not anticipated. The societal game was no longer something I could stumble through on charm and blind faith. Istanbul’s bustling streets and towering ambitions demanded more—they required a sharper edge, a deeper understanding of human motives, and the resilience to weather inevitable disappointments. The year 2024 was a breaking point. It was the year my illusions shattered, and I was forced to confront the harsh realities of life. Betrayal, loss, and heartbreak visited me in quick succession, each leaving a mark that felt indelible. These experiences stripped away the last remnants of my gullibility, pulling me out of the cocoon I had unknowingly built around myself.

From betrayal, I learned the necessity of discernment—the ability to separate true allies from those who merely feign loyalty. From loss, I grasped the impermanence of connections and the importance of building a foundation within myself. And from heartbreak, I discovered resilience—the strength to heal and move forward, even when the pain feels insurmountable. These lessons were not easy. They came with sleepless nights, self-doubt, and moments where I questioned my very existence. Yet, they were necessary. The city’s unforgiving pace and the complex web of human relationships within it demanded that I evolve. Social Darwinism, once an abstract concept, became a living reality. It was no longer just a theory of survival of the fittest; it was a day-to-day truth that I could no longer ignore.

Breaking out of the cocoon was not a moment of triumph but of reckoning. I had to shed the skin of who I once was—the trusting, golden retriever—and emerge as someone stronger, wiser, and more self-aware. Istanbul did not just teach me how to survive; it forced me to thrive within its intricate, often brutal, framework. And for that, I am both humbled and grateful. As I look back on these years, I see not just the hardships but also the growth they fostered. Istanbul, with all its challenges, became my crucible—a place where I was refined by fire and emerged with a deeper understanding of both the world and me. Dancing with Social Darwinism was not a choice but a necessity, and though the dance was exhausting, it was also transformative.

The prodigal son has returned, not to seek approval, but to take his place. This is the culmination of years of growth, pain, and perseverance. It’s the beginning of the rest of my life, and I’m ready to face it head-on. For the first time, I’m not afraid of what lies ahead. I know who I am, and that knowledge is my greatest strength.

The Culmination

I was never lost; you just couldn’t see me.

How naïve I must have been to continue down a path with no light at end, no hope. Lit by the fire of survival, that flame that kept burning through ages of complete despair. Found and lost I was, stuck between tenets of past beliefs and what presented itself with modern taste. This comes to no surprise that I too shall come to a stalemate against my odds. That day, where my breath runs empty, and the blood yearns no more. This is a culmination of my thoughts, bringing about years of miscellaneous writings together for a final act. 24 is the year to remember, one where I never felt this way. Clueless, ignorant to what I was privy to. This is a year where my understandings of the world and its vast encounters become humbled back to a degree of foundation which will lay strong a base for many more failures, yet to be endured.

History would again repeat itself; I almost forgot the last time I had felt this way. Never in a million years I thought, yet it happened. This time, unlike others, it’s not the same person, not even close. For the lessons and years passing by brought about such great pain and suffering. I am not the person I was all those years ago. He is now dead. I killed him. The metaphorical suicide of one’s teenage self, the image of adolescence and childhood morphed into abomination, fighting for dominion. That great war has ended. Months feel like weeks, days like hours, and minutes go by unnoticed. Done are the days where I took life for granted, for many years have passed and I had nothing to show for myself, not anyone else. Just me in the presence of four walls that haunt my mind with their limitations. Being afraid of mediocrity, the act of fading away doesn’t go well with my conscience. It troubles the very pillar of my existence, what I wished for all this time. I wanted to be a force never ending, continuing long after I’m gone.

Looking for a life to fashion out of the presence of others in my life, for this was a recipe for failure and I was wary of the consequences. I knew the rewards were worth the risk, but this proved to be a waste of my time and energy. Instead, I’m focused on building my home and fashioning it with all the decorations and adornments I want. This will do, I know it will.

Morals and beliefs are still there but guided under the guise of logic. Patience comes along with a heavy price to pay. The purpose is here, it need not be clear but at least it keeps the ship sailing, amidst storms and rough seas. It need not be resolve that brings about change, nor closure that delivers an end, it was not up to me to decide where things ended and began. Making peace with it was not an option either, it not an easy thing for I decided a long time ago I would live like this. To bring about the best in everyone including myself. Exuding a heavy toll on me but again, like before. This was a price I was willing to pay, to draw energy and willpower from everything around me.