Do All Humans Deserve to Live?

A personal reflection from a smoky tea house and a poisonous thought that refuses to die.

It was early morning.

I sat in a tea house, watching the steam rise from the glass in front of me. The place was quiet, but not silent—

a few men had already gathered.

Workers, construction guys, "amele" as we call them in Turkish.

No disrespect intended. I respect labor. I respect sweat.

But I couldn’t help thinking:

“Since when did working with your hands give you a license to be cruel, ignorant, or hollow?”

They were laughing, scrolling through their iPhones, cracking jokes about women, commenting on someone’s daughter like she was meat on display.

They weren’t villains with axes or rifles—

they were ordinary men.

And yet… their existence felt toxic.

Some people live, but they kill while living.

They kill curiosity.

They kill empathy.

They kill their daughters' dreams and their wives’ voices.

They fill their homes with fear and fill their phones with filth.

And at that very moment, a phrase I once laughed at came roaring back from memory:

> "You're so ignorant, I wish you were dead."

— A quote supposedly by a scientist.

At first, I laughed when I read it.

Too harsh, too cold, too arrogant.

But that day, sipping tea among these men, watching them joke about a girl who just posted a photo online...

I didn’t laugh anymore.

I understood it.

Not because I’m cruel,

but because I’m tired.

Living should not be a reward for ignorance.

Yes, I believe in second chances.

Yes, I believe in redemption.

But what do you do with those who refuse to grow, who spread rot wherever they walk,

who make their daughters afraid of their own bodies,

their wives ashamed of their laughter?

What do you do with those who proudly carry their ignorance like a badge?

They say,

“Don’t judge me, I’m just a worker.”

“Don’t question me, I’m a father.”

“Don’t confront me, I’m a man.”

And suddenly I find myself thinking:

“Maybe their death would be mercy—for others.”

I don’t mean to play God. I just want to stop the bleeding.

Because when I look into the eyes of some women,

I see ghosts.

When I listen to some children speak,

I hear fear.

And when I watch these men live,

I feel something inside me die.

So I ask:

Does everyone truly deserve to live?

If your entire life is spent destroying others,

if your breath is poison,

if your only legacy is trauma—

why should your heart beat louder than those you silence?

I know. I’m not supposed to say this.

It’s "inhuman."

But these men…

They wear human faces with animal instincts.

And they survive because the good stay quiet.

So no, I won’t stay quiet anymore.

If you're cruel, hollow, and proud of your ignorance—

I don’t wish you a happy life.

> I wish for your daughters to live.

I wish for your wives to breathe.

And if that means your voice disappears forever,

so be it.

Wise Man...