Moro Kort - αž˜αžšαž€αž

Moro Kort - αž˜αžšαž€αž πŸ‡°πŸ‡­

05/09/2026

αž˜αž»αž“αž€αžΆαžšαž”αŸ’αžšαž€αž½αžαž…αžΆαž”αŸ‹αž•αŸ’αžαžΎαž˜ αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αžšαžαŸ‹αž‚αŸ’αžšαž”αŸ‹αžšαžΌαž” αžŸαž»αž‘αŸ’αž’αžαŸ‚αž˜αžΆαž“αžšαžΏαž„αžšαŸ‰αžΆαžœ αž“αž·αž„αž€αŸ’αžαžΈαžŸαŸ’αžšαž˜αŸƒ αžšαŸ€αž„αŸ—αžαŸ’αž›αž½αž“αŸ”

αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αžšαžαŸ‹αžšαžΆαž”αŸ‹αž˜αŸ‰αžΊαž“αž“αžΆαž€αŸ‹αž˜αž€αž‡αž½αž”αž‡αž»αŸ†αž‚αŸ’αž“αžΆαž“αŸ…αž€αž“αŸ’αž›αŸ‚αž„αžαŸ‚αž˜αž½αž™ αž“αŸ…αžαŸ’αž„αŸƒαžαŸ‚αž˜αž½αž™ αžŠαžΎαž˜αŸ’αž”αžΈαžŸαž˜αŸ’αžšαŸαž…αž‚αŸ„αž›αžŠαŸ… αž“αž·αž„αž€αŸ’αžαžΈαžŸαŸ’αžšαž˜αŸƒαžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž–αž½αž€αž‚αŸαŸ” αžŸαž˜αŸ’αžšαžΆαž”αŸ‹αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αžαŸ’αž›αŸ‡ αž“αŸαŸ‡ αž‚αžΊαž‡αžΆ Star αž‘αžΈαŸ‘ αžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž–αž½αž€αž‚αŸ αž αžΎαž™αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αžαŸ’αž›αŸ‡αž‘αŸ€αž αž’αžΆαž…αž‡αžΆ Star αž‘αžΈαŸ¦ ឬ ៧ αžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž–αž½αž€αž‚αŸαž αžΎαž™αŸ•

Before the race, there’s a story behind every runner.

Join me at the Sydney Marathon Expo 2026, where thousands of runners come together to chase their goals, collect another World Major star, or simply prove to themselves that they can do it and keep going.

Thousands of dreams and goals. Thousands of spectators there to support their loved ones on an unforgettable journey.


10/08/2026

αž–αŸαž›αžœαŸαž›αžΆαžŠαžΎαžšαž›αžΏαž“αžŽαžΆαžŸαŸ‹ αž’αŸ’αž˜αŸαž…αž”αžΎαž€αŸ— αž€αž“αŸ’αž›αŸ‡αž†αŸ’αž“αžΆαŸ†αž αžΎαž™αžŠαŸ‚αž›αž˜αž·αž“αž˜αžΆαž“αžœαžαŸ’αžαž˜αžΆαž“αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αž˜αŸ’αžαžΆαž™αž“αŸ…αž‡αž·αžαž€αžΌαž“αŸ”

It’s been almost half a year since I stopped uploading videos.

I needed time to grieve the loss of my mother. She finally got to reunite with my father in heaven, and perhaps that thought brings me a little comfort. But this tired and lost soul still can’t seem to find its way back to life. Everything has felt strangely slow, yet somehow, every day passes so fast. I move at a slow pace, while life keeps rushing forward. Everything seems still, yet somehow it’s moving so quickly that I can barely catch up.

Maybe I’m still learning how to live with the emptiness. Maybe I’m still trying to find my way back to myself.

14/01/2026

πŸ“αžαŸ’αž„αŸƒαž‘αžΈαŸ’ αžšαžαŸ‹αž αžΌαž‡αžΈαž˜αž·αž‰αž˜αŸ‰αžΆαžšαŸ‰αžΆαžαž»αž„αŸ” αž˜αž½αž™αžαŸ’αž„αŸƒαž–αŸαž‰ αž‚αŸ’αž˜αžΆαž“αž–αŸαž›αžŸαŸ’αžšαžΆαž€αŸ”

πŸ“Day 2 - Ho Chi Minh Marathon. A day full of activities and I still haven’t recovered yet.

12/01/2026

10 hours before the Ho Chi Minh Marathon.

01/01/2026

Starting the day a bit late but productive.

31/12/2025

Just another day in Moro Kort’s life.

Thank you, 2025. Please bring good health and happiness to me, my husband, and especially my mother and all my beloved Cambodian people πŸ‡°πŸ‡­.

30/07/2025

αž–αžΆαž€αŸ’αž™αž–αŸαž…αž“αŸαžŠαŸ‚αž›αžŸαžšαžŸαŸαžšαž…αŸαž‰αž“αŸαŸ‡ αž–αž·αžαž‡αžΆαž˜αž·αž“αž‚αŸ’αžšαž”αŸ‹αž‚αŸ’αžšαžΆαž“αŸ‹αž€αŸ’αž“αž»αž„αž€αžΆαžšαžŸαž˜αŸ’αžαŸ‚αž„αž“αžΌαžœαž€αžΆαžšαžŠαžΉαž„αž‚αž»αžŽαžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αžαŸ’αž‰αž»αŸ† αž‘αŸ…αž€αžΆαž“αŸ‹αžœαžΈαžšαŸˆαž—αžΆαž–αžŠαŸαž’αž„αŸ‹αž’αžΆαž…αž€αŸ’αž›αžΆαž αžΆαž“αžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž€αž„αž‘αŸαž–αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžšαž‚αŸ’αžšαž”αŸ‹αžšαžΌαž” αžŠαŸ‚αž›αž αŸŠαžΆαž“ αž“αž·αž„αž”αžΆαž“αž›αŸ‡αž”αž„αŸ‹αžˆαžΆαž˜αžŸαŸ’αžšαžŸαŸ‹ αžŸαžΆαž…αŸ‹αžŸαŸ’αžšαžŸαŸ‹ αž”αžΌαž‡αžΆαž‡αž·αžœαžΈαž‡αžΌαž“αž”αŸ’αžšαž‘αŸαžŸαž‡αžΆαžαž· αž€αžΆαžšαž–αžΆαžšαž’αž’αž·αž”αžαŸαž™αŸ’αž™ αž“αž·αž„αž”αžΌαžšαžŽαž—αžΆαž–αž‘αžΉαž€αžŠαžΈ αž“αž·αž„αžŠαžΎαž˜αŸ’αž”αžΈαžŸαž»αžœαžαŸ’αžαž·αž—αžΆαž–αž”αŸ’αžšαž‡αžΆαž‡αž“αž‘αžΆαŸ†αž„αž˜αžΌαž›αŸ” αž€αžΆαžšαž›αŸ‡αž”αž„αŸ‹αžŠαŸαž˜αž αžΆαžŸαžΆαž› αž“αž·αž„αž˜αž·αž“αž’αžΆαž…αž€αžΆαžαŸ‹αžαŸ’αž›αŸƒαž”αžΆαž“αž“αŸαŸ‡ αž‚αž½αžš αž“αž·αž„ αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαžœαž”αžΆαž“αž…αž„αŸ‹αž…αžΆαŸ†αž‘αž»αž€αž€αŸ’αž“αž»αž„αž€αŸ’αžšαž’αŸ…αž”αŸαŸ‡αžŠαžΌαž„αž™αž»αžœαž‡αž“αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžšαž‚αŸ’αžšαž”αŸ‹αž‡αŸ†αž“αžΆαž“αŸ‹ αž“αž·αž„αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαžœαžšαŸ†αž›αžΉαž€αžŠαžΉαž„αž‚αž»αžŽαžŠαž›αŸ‹αž–αž½αž€αž‚αžΆαžαŸ‹αž‡αžΆαžšαŸ€αž„αžšαž αžΌαžαž›αž»αŸ‡αžαŸ’αž„αŸƒαž’αžœαžŸαŸ’αžŸαžΆαž“αŸ’αžαž“αŸƒαž‡αžΈαžœαž·αžαžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž™αžΎαž„αŸ” αž αžΎαž™αžαŸ’αž‰αž»αŸ†αž€αŸαž˜αž·αž“αž—αŸ’αž›αŸαž…αžŠαŸ‚αžš αž“αžΌαžœαž€αžΆαžšαžŠαžΉαž„αž‚αž»αžŽαž…αŸ†αž–αŸ„αŸ‡αžšαžΆαž‡αžšαžŠαŸ’αž‹αžΆαž—αž·αž”αžΆαž›αž€αž˜αŸ’αž–αž»αž‡αžΆ αžŠαŸ‚αž›αž”αžΆαž“αžαž·αžαžαŸ†αž™αŸ‰αžΆαž„αžŸαžŸαŸ’αžšαžΆαž€αŸ‹αžŸαžŸαŸ’αžšαžΆαŸ†αž€αŸ’αž“αž»αž„αž€αžΆαžšαžšαž€αŸ’αžŸαžΆαž”αžΆαž“αž“αžΌαžœαž”αžΌαžšαžŽαž—αžΆαž–αž‘αžΉαž€αžŠαžΈ αž“αž·αž„αžŸαž»αžœαžαŸ’αžαž·αž—αžΆαž–αž”αŸ’αžšαž‡αžΆαž‡αž“ αž“αž·αž„αž”αžΆαž“αž”αŸ’αžšαŸ‚αž€αŸ’αž›αžΆαž™αž‡αž˜αŸ’αž›αŸ„αŸ‡αž”αŸ’αžšαžŠαžΆαž”αŸ‹αž’αžΆαžœαž»αž’αž˜αž½αž™αž“αŸαŸ‡αž˜αž·αž“αž±αŸ’αž™αž€αŸ’αž›αžΆαž™αž‘αŸ…αž‡αžΆαžŸαž„αŸ’αžšαŸ’αž‚αžΆαž˜αžŠαŸαžšαŸ‰αžΆαŸ†αžšαŸ‰αŸƒ αžŠαŸ‚αž›αž’αžΆαž…αž†αž€αŸ‹αž™αž€αž‡αžΈαžœαž·αžαž€αž„αž‘αŸαž– αž“αž·αž„αž”αŸ’αžšαž‡αžΆαž‡αž“αžŸαŸ’αž›αžΌαžαžαŸ’αžšαž„αŸ‹αž€αžΆαž“αŸ‹αžαŸ‚αž…αŸ’αžšαžΎαž“αŸ”

αž“αŸαŸ‡αž‡αžΆαž˜αŸαžšαŸ€αž“αž‡αžΈαžœαž·αžαžŠαŸαž’αŸ†αž”αŸ†αž•αž»αžαžŸαž˜αŸ’αžšαžΆαž”αŸ‹αž™αžΎαž„αž‡αžΆαž€αžΌαž“αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžš αž“αž·αž„αž‡αžΆαž˜αŸαžšαŸ€αž“αž‡αžΈαžœαž·αžαž“αŸƒαž”αŸ’αžšαž‡αžΆαž‡αžΆαžαž·αž€αž˜αŸ’αž–αž»αž‡αžΆ αžŠαŸ‚αž›αž—αžΆαž–αžˆαžΊαž…αžΆαž”αŸ‹αž“αŸαŸ‡αž“αžΉαž„αž‚αŸ’αž˜αžΆαž“αžαŸ’αž„αŸƒαž’αžΆαž…αž”αŸ†αž—αŸ’αž›αŸαž…αž‘αžΎαž™αžŸαž˜αŸ’αžšαžΆαž”αŸ‹αžšαžΌαž”αžαŸ’αž‰αž»αŸ†αŸ” αž—αžΆαž–αžˆαžΊαž…αžΆαž”αŸ‹αž‘αžΆαŸ†αž„αž’αžŸαŸ‹αž“αŸαŸ‡ αž”αžΆαž“αžŠαžΆαžŸαŸ‹αžŸαŸ’αž˜αžΆαžšαžαžΈαž€αžΌαž“αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžšαž‚αŸ’αžšαž”αŸ‹αžšαžΌαž”αž±αŸ’αž™αž…αŸαŸ‡αž‡αž½αž™αž™αž€αž’αžΆαžŸαžΆαžšαž‚αŸ’αž“αžΆαž€αŸ’αž“αž»αž„αž‚αŸ’αžšαžΆαž›αŸ†αž”αžΆαž€ αž“αž·αž„αž αŸŠαžΆαž“αž€αŸ’αžšαŸ„αž€αžˆαžšαžαžαžΆαŸ†αž„αž‘αŸ…αž“αžΉαž„αž—αžΆαž–αž”αžΆαž” αž—αžΆαž–αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ… αž“αž·αž„αž€αžΆαžšαž›αžΆαž”αž–αžŽαŸŒαž”αŸ†αž”αŸ’αž›αŸ‚αž„αž€αžΆαžšαž–αž·αžαžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž”αŸ’αžšαž‘αŸαžŸ αž‘αžΆαž αžΆαž“ αž“αž·αž„αž”αŸ’αžšαž‡αžΆαž‡αž“αžŸαŸ€αž˜αž˜αž½αž™αž…αŸ†αž“αž½αž“αž’αŸ†αŸ”

αžŠαžšαžΆαž”αžŽαžΆαžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžšαž“αŸ…αžαŸ‚αžšαž½αž”αžšαž½αž˜αž‚αŸ’αž“αžΆαžŠαžΌαž…αž‚αŸ’αžšαžΆαž“αŸαŸ‡ αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžšαž“αžΉαž„αž€αŸ’αž›αžΆαž™αž‘αŸ…αž‡αžΆαž”αŸ’αžšαž‡αžΆαž‡αžΆαžαž·αž˜αž½αž™αžŠαŸ‚αž›αžαŸ’αž›αžΆαŸ†αž„ αž“αž·αž„αž‚αŸ’αž˜αžΆαž“αž“αžšαžŽαžΆαž αŸŠαžΆαž“αž˜αžΎαž›αžŸαŸ’αžšαžΆαž›αž™αžΎαž„αž‘αžΎαž™αŸ” αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαžœαž˜αžΆαž“αž˜αŸ„αž‘αž“αž—αžΆαž–αžŠαŸ‚αž›αžαŸ’αž›αž½αž“αž”αžΆαž“αž€αžΎαžαž‡αžΆαž€αžΌαž“αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžš αž’αŸ†αž’αžΆαžαŸ‹αž‘αžΎαž„αž“αŸ…αž›αžΎαž‘αžΉαž€αžŠαžΈαžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžš αžŠαžΌαž…αŸ’αž“αŸαŸ‡αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαžœαžαŸ‚αžαž·αžαžαŸ†αž€αžŸαžΆαž„αž”αŸ’αžšαž‘αŸαžŸαž˜αž½αž™αž“αŸαŸ‡αž±αŸ’αž™αž€αžΆαž“αŸ‹αžαŸ‚αžαŸ’αž€αž»αŸ†αžαŸ’αž€αžΎαž“ αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαžœαž…αŸαŸ‡αžŠαžΉαž„αž‚αž»αžŽ αžŸαž„αž‚αž»αžŽαž‘αŸ…αž”αŸ’αžšαž‘αŸαžŸ αž“αž·αž„αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αžŠαŸ‚αž›αž˜αž·αž“αž”αžΆαž“αž”αŸ†αž—αŸ’αž›αŸαž…αž™αžΎαž„ αž“αž·αž„αž”αžΆαž“αž›αŸ‡αž”αž„αŸ‹αž‡αŸ†αž“αž½αžŸαž™αžΎαž„ αž€αŸ’αž“αž»αž„αž‚αŸ’αžšαžΆαžŠαŸ‚αž›αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αž•αž„αž‘αžΆαŸ†αž„αž–αž½αž„αž”αžΆαž“αž’αŸ’αžœαžΎαž‡αžΆαž”αŸ†αž—αŸ’αž›αŸαž…αž™αžΎαž„αŸ”

αžŸαžΌαž˜αž±αŸ’αž™αž€αžΆαžšαžˆαžΊαž…αžΆαž”αŸ‹αž“αŸƒαž”αŸ’αžšαž‡αžΆαž‡αžΆαžαž·αž˜αž½αž™αž“αŸαŸ‡ αž€αŸ’αž›αžΆαž™αž‘αŸ…αž‡αžΆαž€αž˜αŸ’αž›αžΆαŸ†αž„αžŠαŸαž˜αž αžΆαžŸαžΆαž› αž”αžΎαž€αž…αž€αŸ’αžαž»αž”αŸ†αž—αŸ’αž›αžΊαž•αŸ’αž›αžΌαžœαž‘αŸ…αž™αž»αžœαž‡αž“αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžšαž‚αŸ’αžšαž”αŸ‹αž‡αŸ†αž“αžΆαž“αŸ‹αž±αŸ’αž™αžαž·αžαžαŸ†αž€αžŸαžΆαž„αž”αŸ’αžšαž‘αŸαžŸαž‘αŸ…αžšαž€αž—αžΆαž–αžšαžΈαž€αž…αž˜αŸ’αžšαžΎαž“ αž“αž·αž„αžαŸ’αž€αž»αŸ†αžαŸ’αž€αžΎαž“αž‡αžΆαž“αž·αžšαž“αŸ’αžαžšαŸαžαžšαŸ€αž„αž‘αŸ…αŸ”

αž–αžΈαžαŸ’αž‰αž»αŸ† αžˆαžΆαž˜αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžš αžŸαž˜αŸ’αžšαŸ‚αž€αžαŸ’αž˜αŸ‚αžš αŸ•

No words I write will ever be enough to truly express the depth of gratitude in my heart for the fearless and selfless bravery of every Cambodian soldier. You dared. You bled. You gave your flesh, your life, your very soul, all for this nation. You stood in the face of danger and laid everything down to protect our sovereignty, our land, and the safety of millions who may never know your names, but who live because of your sacrifice.

This kind of sacrifice, beyond value, beyond measure, must be etched into the hearts of every generation of young Cambodians. It must be remembered, cherished, honored, until the final breath of our lives. We owe you that. We owe you everything.

And I cannot forget to thank the RGC, who has also fought tirelessly, not just with weapons, but with wisdom and restraint, to protect our land and our people. They stopped this conflict from turning into a devastating war, one that could have swallowed countless lives, both soldiers and innocent civilians. Their perseverance preserved peace when chaos was just one step away.

This is more than a political moment. This is a soul-deep wound for our nation, a life lesson burned into our bones. A lesson that I, as a child of Cambodia, will never forget. This pain has stirred the spirit of our people, waking something ancient and unbreakable…the will to stand together through suffering, to rise against darkness, and to defy the lies and cruelty brought upon us by certain Siamese soldiers and civilians who seek to bury the truth.

But hear this out. As long as we, the Khmer people, remain united, heart to heart, hand in hand, no one can ever break us. I dare them πŸ™‚. We will rise. We will endure. We will become a nation that commands respect, not pity.

Be proud. Be proud that you were born Khmer, that you grew up on this sacred soil watered with the blood of heroes. You owe this land not just your love, but your promise, to build it, to serve it, to remember those who died for it, especially when the world tried to forget us.

Let the pain of this nation become our greatest strength. Let it guide our youth, open their eyes and show them the path forward. Let it fuel our efforts to rebuild, to grow, to rise again and again with honor and unshakable pride. This is my nation, these are my people.



26/07/2025

I feel a deep ache in my heart each night as I lie in comfort, knowing that my people, our soldiers, our families, our nation, are living in fear, under threat, far from peace. I am no one important, just one voice among millions, but I cannot stay silent. I have a duty to speak the truth, to tear down the false narratives crafted by the Thai side, and to let the world see us, hear us, and know what is just.

Maybe my words don’t reach every ear, maybe they’re just whispers in the noise, but even so, this is the least I can offer when my country calls.

It breaks my heart to see others fall silent when now, more than ever, is the time to speak. When injustice roars, silence becomes betrayal.

I pray for peace. But if peace cannot come through truth, then let it come through strength. I will not bow to lies. We will not lose our dignity. Let the world be loud, but let us be louder. Let our unity be fiercer than their aggression.

These past days, I’ve been drowning in news, pain, and anger. But I’ve fought back with my voice, with facts, with courage in all platform I existed. And in doing so, I’ve realized that I must rise higher. I must grow stronger. I must carry knowledge, wisdom, and one day, wealth for my country. So that we will no longer be seen as the weak, the expendable, or the ones to push around.

A great nation is not built in comfort, it is built in fire, through the will of its people. Be one of them. Be the reason we rise.

Grudges can wait for ten, fifteen, even twenty years, but only if we spend those years becoming unbreakable, unshakable, and unified like never before.

Just a small voice from freedom writer.




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