Arkan Farsat
Have you ever considered stepping away from the light?
Not out of defeat,
But because the noise around you has grown unbearable—
And stillness feels like the only act of strength left?
You need it.
Even if you don’t admit it.
You need to sit by the window in silence,
Let the spring breeze brush against your skin,
And lose yourself in a quiet deeper than thought,
Beyond the reach of words—
Where only the gentle echo of music touches your soul.
Like a man in his sixties,
Settled before a fire,
Hands aged but steady around a cup of coffee,
Finally noticing the beauty in what he once overlooked.
He aches for the clutter of his younger years
And asks himself:
“Why didn’t I stop and breathe?”
“Why did I run so fast through days that were never promised?”
“Why did I spend myself chasing noise, status—nothing?”
But now, he waits.
No luggage.
No rush.
Only himself, and that is enough.
Because somehow, the idea of leaving has become gentler
than the pressure to keep going.
Maybe it’s time you became him.
Time to pause.
To stop resisting.
To burn it all down if you must—
So you can rise, unburdened,
And be born again.
