About me:

نمر جميعاً بأيام سيئة

Every morning, I wake up and put on my face. I arrange my features the way a soldier prepares his weapon — carefully, precisely, with intent. My smile, my voice, my gaze… all positioned just right. Because inside? Inside, there’s chaos.

In the darker corners of my mind, there’s a voice that never stops. It doesn’t understand mercy. It doesn’t recognize peace. It whispers: Why pretend? Why hold back? You’re not like them.

And then another voice — quieter, but steadier — answers: Because I don’t want to become a monster.

Every day, I fight a battle between Dexter, the man… and Dexter, the other.

The one who feels nothing. The one who hungers.

Sometimes, I win.

Sometimes, he does.

People see a calm, composed man. No one suspects the storm raging beneath. It’s like I live in two bodies — one standing in the light, the other kneeling in the dark.

I don’t seek redemption. I don’t expect forgiveness.

I only want control — to keep the beast inside its cage.

To be the cage… not the beast.

But the longer the night drags on, the louder the whisper becomes.

Just once… let go. Let it happen.

I shut the door. Tighten the chains. And whisper back:

Not today.

Who I'd like to meet: