2024 — Echo of the Past and Future
This world, in its paradoxical being, is a weave of love and hate, entwined into a unique tapestry of existence. In this universe where gossip and seeming affection intertwine, humanity manifests in its duality — expressing itself both in mockery and in deep appreciation of nobility.
We stand at the crossroads of hope and evil, in constant uncertainty about the predominance of one over the other. The human spirit is an amphitheater of contrasts — goodness confronts evil, tenderness with cruelty, unrest with stability, openness with mystery. Our uniqueness echoes like a river and a droplet, and our words are a mirror of our being.
As a people without clear belonging, we balance on the edges, always at the center of someone else’s heritage. Isn’t it natural that we are enveloped in the veil of poverty? The age-old quest for identity brings us to the brink of losing self-awareness. We are used for others’ purposes, attracted and rejected as needed.
Placed in the saddest corner of the world, we have lost ourselves in the foreignness of identity, becoming a nation on the border, at the center of conflict, constantly under the impact of others’ judgments. Our fate breaks like a reef under the onslaught of the waves of history.
Are we a nation of madness, misfortune, or perhaps the most complex in the world? History leads us on an unusual path, where yesterday is not forgotten, and tomorrow is not yet shaped. Like a branch separated from the main river, directionless and without a destination, we carry the burden of origin and outcast status. Rejected by all, we defend ourselves with pride and hatred. In our lostness, we search for ourselves, yet ironically love our suffering, refusing to leave it.
Are we overly tender and cruel, emotional and cold, joyous and sad without reason? Do we hide behind love as the only certainty? Do we allow life to overwhelm us, self-destructing in our own way? We do this because we care. This sincere concern is a reflection of our honesty, and in that honesty lies the glory of our madness.