Prologue: A Curl of Destiny
My beard isn’t just facial hair. It’s history, it’s resistance,
and it’s a personal revival of the Sunnah in a world
addicted to smooth filters and trimmed truths.
Episode 1: Society Tried to Shave Me
Clean-shaved 3–4 times. Not by choice, but by command.
Each time, I looked in the mirror and thought, “Where did my character go?”
My family said, “The Prophet (SAW) kept himself clean.”
But I replied, “He also kept his beard. That was his cleanness. That was his radiance.”
Yet still, buzz, off it went. Each time, I felt spiritually robbed.
Episode 2: Buzzcut Above, Roar Below
Now? I keep my head buzzed clean. Not for fashion. For defense.
So they can never say again, “Shave it all.”
My buzzcut says: "You want me clean? Fine, here’s clean. But my beard stays. Periodt!"
Episode 3: Curls That Refuse to Conform
My beard isn’t polite.
It doesn’t bow. It doesn’t blend.
It defies.
It’s curly, soft, & fierce.
The kind of fierce that doesn't flinch, it's lion-ic, not ironic.
Sideburns whisper like warriors:
“Wyckolus, no matter how much oil you apply, we ain’t straightening out. We were born wild.”
And I love them for that.
They're not just hair, they’re heritage.
A silent growl. A flag of freedom.
Unruly. Undeniable. Unbreakable.
My beard is my roar in a world that wants silence.
Episode 4: Satan Gets Nervous
Sometimes I fall. Slip-ups happen.
But every time I get up stronger and my beard comes back fiercer.
Even Satan’s like:
“Oh no. He fell again. Now what’s he gonna bring next?”
Every curl becomes a sword. Every strand, a strike against the filth I’m leaving behind.
Episode 5: Beard Bonds & Brotherhoods
My homie Augro admires my beard.
Not for style, but for what it stands for:
— Strength
— Sunnah
— Staying firm in a collapsing culture.
Even when others said, “Trim it off! It looks uncomfortable...”
I said, “So is the Truth, but I still keep it.”
Epilogue: My Beard, My Banner
I don’t wear a uniform. I wear a beard.
And every time it curls, every time it dances freely in the wind, I remember:
I was born to worship, not to blend in.
So let it grow.
Let it curl.
Let it whisper dhikr when the wind blows.
Because I am Wyckolus,
and my beard…
is Wakening the Ummah.
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