My story is the story of forgotten people and the voice of the voiceless.

Writing is taking a risk, and it is actually fighting invisible and invincible enemies. They are over-confidence, stupidity, expectation and narcissism.

From a building right in front of my windows, I can observe the speed of the sunrises and sunsets. The voices of children playing, laughing, yelling, and crying on the playground crawl up to the eighth floor, where I write. Their voices sound so innocent from a distance.

I changed the course of my life, from the rigidity of mathematics and the corporate rhythm to a more bohemian world.

My story is the story of forgotten people and the voice of the voiceless.

I am the only one who is not married among my siblings.

Happiness is actually found in simple things, such as taking my nephew around the island by bicycle or seeing the stars at night. We go to coffee shops or see airplanes land at the airport.