I know that there's this one Albanian myth that's always reflected on, and I think it reflects on the actual core culture. That myth is called The Besa. B-E-S-A. The Besa is a word that Albanians use to mean avow, but it's such a strong promise, that even past death, one cannot break that promise. It is unfathomable. So if you give someone your besa, life or death, heaven or hell, you have to fulfill that besa.

I just don't know how to stitch words in a predictable way sometimes. It's a weird instinct I've developed.

Sometimes I feel too transparent in my poetry, but that's what I think the beauty of poetry is, because as transparent as the author can be, it's usually only a reflection of what the reader can interpret, and based on their own personal experiences.

I've been to Asia, but I'd love to go to Thailand. I'd love to go to some rural areas in China.

Through my former experiences, writing poetry and learning other languages leading up to English I find ways to stitch words together that may seem a bit odd, but somehow, sometimes they do work.

I've written and translated my own poems from English to German. It's basically a summation of my identity as it stands now.

Every one of us strives to be a better person; and if I am to contribute one thing of myself, it would be compassion.