Κυριακή, Ιανουαρίου 22, 2012

You will never know



It breaks my heart ‘cause I know you’re the one for me
Don’t you feel sad there never was a story 
Obviously it'll never be

You will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you no
You will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you

With every smile comes my reality irony
You won’t find out what has been killing me
Can’t you see me, can’t you see?

You will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you no
You will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you
No no no no you will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you no

No no no no you'll never know
No no no no you'll never know
No no no no
Love me love me love me love me no

You will never know
I will never show no no no
What I feel 
What I need from you no no no
You will never know
I will never show no no no
What I feel 
What I feel
What I feel
What I need
What I need from you no.


Τετάρτη, Ιανουαρίου 11, 2012

Delete


Sometimes some people say they wish they could delete something, some experience, some thought, some one. Sometimes I wish I could too. But.

Unless there can be some kind of selective oblivion that could give me the option to keep the lesson learned from the to-delete issue, would there be a point in deleting it? What if deleting means that I'm back to square zero, having nothing to help me the next time I'm dealing with the same thing? And even worse... what if deleting means denying the part of me that endulged in that wrong decision?

One's life, sometimes, is like the life of a statue. Created bit by bit, by light and heavy strikes, maybe even some wrong ones. Think about it; you start with a huge piece of marble and end up with a statue with a soul. Even the ugliest one, even one that was just a study, it always means something. It was someone's inspiration, someone's bad mood, someone's mistake, someone's dream. 

Otherwise, it's like play-doh. You are just a pile of organic matter that used to be something and then it becomes something else and there is almost no memory of what there used to be there before. In the best case scenario, an experienced play-doh artist will be able to tell the material's fatigue and that's the end of it.

Sometimes I wish I had never fallen for you. I wish I could protect myself from your influence. But I know now that I don't want to. I love my feelings for you. I do. I am a proud drama queen. I am happy that I have fallen asleep feeling my heart beating strongly in your thought. I am proud to have experienced this heat wave that would climb up my chest and my throat when I was listening to your words. I am lucky to have felt this way. Just like the movies... I managed to get the leading part in my life's movie and I actually won a prize. 

And, ok, it's true that it would have been better if I could have my happily ever after ending as well, but, you see, the reason why fairytales always end when the adventure part is over, is because this was the good stuff. The important stuff. The part that includes all the magic and the beauty and this unrealistic feeling that for a while you become a super-hero and live above your ordinary world.

So, my dear self, why on earth do you try so hard to delete him? Just let him be and enjoy the ride...




Δευτέρα, Ιανουαρίου 09, 2012

The male fairy


Last night, I met a fairy. A male fairy. He was just like I always thought a fairy would be like. Nothing like Cinderella's godmother or Tinkerbell. No fancy clothes, no wings... He might have had a magic wand though. Well... almost.

My fairy took me on a trip home. We started discussing, just small talk. And then, around the moment I would - as always- start grouching about my great misfortune, he started reciting some words. I was wandering in my thoughts and I couldn't concentrate on what he was telling me. I could only listen to the distant sound of his calm, serene, southing voice. I could tell he used to stutter, but he didn't even stutter once when talking to me.

He put his hand in his pocket and took out a small piece of light blue rock that he placed on my hand. "Do you recognize what this is?", he asked me. "I don't know. I think I had too much to drink tonight and I have no idea about stones...It looks like turquoise, I guess.", I replied feeling dizzy. "Correct. This means you feel better than what you think.", he said. "This stone is healing", he added.

He put the turqoise stone back and he took out a second stone. A blur, pink stone. "What do you think about this one?", he asked me again. I didn't want to play his game. "I told you I don't know about stones." I replied, trying not to sound rude. "Try. Just try." he continued, showing me that he was trying to say something important to me. "Ok..., this is amethyst? It looks too pink, but I can't think of anything else."."Try again", he insisted. "Quartz? It should be white though. Right? I... I don't know, just tell me.". "It's rose quartz, but see? You were close enough." he said. "This stone is about tenderness".

When he took out the third stone, I started to get annoyed. "And this one?" he asked again. "Please, I told you I don't know about these things." I said. Without any signs of anger or disappointment, he continued ignoring my frustration: "This one will be easy for you to find, you have already mentioned it before.". I looked at his third stone. Unlike the first too, this one was crystal clear and looked like an egyptian obelisk. I had no idea, but since he said I had mentoned it I shyly whispered: "Quartz?". "Correct again!" he replied enthousiastically. "I told you you are better than what you think! So, my dear girl, this is a very important stone, because it can help you decide. It can help you do the things you need to to move on in your life. Things you want to do, but you hesitate to."

He put the crystal in my left palm and he tenderly closed my fingers around it. "Just hold it tight and relax, till I take you home". And I did. And I honestly thought he was crazy. And I came home. And nothing felt different. I felt stupid. What did I expect? He must have been some kind of charlatan. And I fell asleep.

The next morning, when I woke up, I felt better. It felt good. All of a sudden, it all made sense: he was my fairy! Fairies do magic and so did he. It didn't matter if his stones had magical powers or not. It didn't matter if he was wearing a pair of delicate wings or not. I didn't matter if I believed in him or not. It only mattered that when I met him, he made me believe that I could feel better than what I thought. That I could find the will to decide the things I wanted to do and stop hesitating. All I had to do was to try. My fairy found a way to help me out. And in the end of the day, this is what makes a real fairy, well... real.





Κυριακή, Ιανουαρίου 08, 2012

Fatiguee d'attendre


Γιατί με βασανίζεις; Αφού το βλέπεις ότι είμαι ερωτευμένη μαζί σου. Αφού λες ότι μ' αγαπάς, έστω και λίγο, γιατί μου το κάνεις αυτό;

Το καταλαβαίνω να μη με θες. Το καταλαβαίνω να σου αρέσουν άλλες. Όλες οι άλλες. Μάλλον, οι άλλες που δεν είναι σαν εμένα. Που έχουν μια άλλη ομορφιά. Οι άλλες που δε μιλάνε τόσο πολύ. Οι άλλες που είναι πιο "ψαγμένες" από εμένα. Οι άλλες που είναι τυπάκια. Οι άλλες που σε παίζουν. Οι άλλες που είναι "παλιοθήλυκα" και δεν τις βγάζεις από το μυαλό σου. Οι άλλες που δε σε κοιτάζουν όπως εγώ. Οι άλλες που δε σου λένε πάντα ναι. Οι άλλες που δε σε εκνευρίζουν ποτέ. Οι άλλες που έχουν πάντα κάτι βαθύ να πουν. Οι άλλες που ξέρουν από μουσική, που σε καταλαβαίνουν, που σε τρελαίνουν, που σε κάνουν να αισθάνεσαι όπως νιώθω εγώ για σένα.

Είμαι κρίμα όμως. Καταλαβαίνω ότι η ανθρώπινη ματαιοδοξία θέλει συνεχή τροφή, αλλά όλα τα πράγματα καπου πρέπει να σταματάνε. Εντάξει, λοιπόν, κέρδισες. Είσαι καταπληκτικός και με έχεις κάνει κουρέλι. Όμως, φτάνει τώρα.

Μη μου ξαναπείς ποτέ για τα μάτια μου. Μην ξαναχαϊδέψεις τα μαλλιά μου. Μην μου ξαναπείς ποτέ ότι σου αρέσω. Μη μου ξαναπείς ποτέ ότι με λατρεύεις. Μη μου ξαναπείς ποτέ ότι με σκέφτηκες. Μη μου ξαναπείς ποτέ τίποτα. Γιατί εσύ τα λες έτσι, τυχαία, ή μπορεί απλά να απαντάς καταφατικά από βαρεμάρα στις επίμονες ερωτήσεις μου. Αλλά για μένα όλα αυτά είναι σημαντικά.

Κοιμάμαι και ξυπνάω και σκέφτομαι τι έκανα πάλι λάθος. Κοιμάμαι και ξυπνάω και δεν υπάρχει τίποτα άλλο παρά μονάχα εσύ. Κουράστηκα. Κουράστηκα να σε σκέφτομαι, κουράστηκα να κλαίω για σένα, κουράστηκα να χαίρομαι επειδή μου έστειλες ένα μίζερο μήνυμα, κουράστηκα να τρέχω από πίσω σου ζητιανεύοντας λίγη προσοχή. Κουράστηκα να χαμογελάω όταν μου ζητάς τηλέφωνα από φίλες μου. Κουράστηκα να σου δίνω συμβουλές για το πώς να γνωρίσεις αυτήν την κάποια άλλη.



Άσε με...

Παρασκευή, Ιανουαρίου 06, 2012

Un homme et une femme


“Hi.”, she said. He just stood back and looked at her, almost stared.
She smiled and he tried to have no reaction, but she could see a slight movement in his eyelids, as if they were trying to smile back at her on his behalf.
She could barely remember the first time she saw him. Just a vague, blur memory of a handsome guy. Her mind was elsewhere that night. Who knows what he thought of her back then. She was still in love with someone else. Maybe he was aware of that. Maybe it was not important.
They met again. She started to notice him. He could now remember her.
She was whining about love, about the man she was looking for and someone told her about him. Not much, just that through her words, she was describing him. She thought it was weird. She didn’t believe it. He had no idea.
They met a couple of times. Randomly. She started to like him, but then he met someone else. She was with him and witnessed it all. She realized it wasn’t pleasant, but who cares. He apologized, because she was left alone. She decided not to think about it.
She run away to avoid something else. Someone else. She was deleting everything and everyone. She had to. Her mind was twisted. He was lost.
One day, she got a message from him. He was writing the first sentence in her brand new page. She wasn’t sure what to think, but she met him. Just the two of them, for the first time. “Are you always such a sweet girl?”, he asked. She didn’t know what to answer. She might have replied:”I don’t know”.
She met him again. He met a group of people he didn’t know. She was hoping. He was flirting with other women. She tried not to think about it. He kept asking to meet her.
She realized she had a crush on him when he asked her to bring someone else. All she cared about was seeing him. All he wanted was to meet people. She knew too many, but only wanted to be with him. He knew her, but wanted to meet everyone else.
She wanted to find a way to rationalize it. He was relaxed and just having a nice time.
Suddenly, everything he did was perfect. Suddenly, everything she did was wrong.
Trying to get away from him, she triggered her maelstrom. The more she tried to stop thinking about him, the more obsessed she became. He was flooding everything. He was just looking for someone else.
One day, he visited her at her place. She was thrilled. Then, there was a phone call. He was just playing with her. She was wrecked. He didn’t even care enough to notice. She thought this was her chance to erase him from her mind. He asked her to meet again. She tried to stay distant. He thought something else was going on in her mind. She started crying at nights.
He started to be more open about other women. She was trying to stay calm. He asked her to help him find love. She agreed. He was innocent. She was suffering.
He told her he doesn’t see her as a woman. She had no ways to deal with this.
He asked her to go on a trip with him. As always, she said yes. She should have said no.
He once told her “ I adore you”. She knew he didn’t mean it the way she hoped for.
He said he wants to madly fall in love. She was madly in love with him.
Love isn’t dead. Sometimes people just love someone else. 

Τετάρτη, Ιανουαρίου 04, 2012

I had a dream, a dream of you.


Ήμουν, είμαι και θα είμαι για πάντα ερωτευμένη μ' Αυτόν. Τον απόλυτο άντρα, τον ένα που κατακλύζει τη ζωή μου, την ψυχή μου, όλο μου το είναι. Είναι η αρχή και το τέλος, το νόημα σε όλα, το φως, το σκοτάδι, το καλό και το κακό, είναι η μοναδική σταθερά από την οποία μπορώ να προσδιοριστώ.

Ξέρω ότι υπάρχει, κάπου... Στα όνειρά μου, το υποσυνείδητό μου, ίσως και δίπλα μου. Με αγαπάει και με λατρεύει και δεν μπορεί να υπάρχει χωρίς εμένα. 
Ξέρει με βεβαιότητα ότι για μένα είναι ο Ένας, οπότε δεν τον νοιάζει όταν είμαι με άλλους άντρες. Ξέρει ότι ερωτεύομαι όποιον μου τον θυμίζει. Όσο περισσότερο, τόσο περισσότερο τον ερωτεύομαι. Σε όποιον βλέπω κομμάτια του. Ένα βλέμμα, ένα χαμόγελο, μια κίνηση, μια ατάκα... Θα μπορούσε να την είχε πει Αυτός. Κι επειδή ξέρω ότι είμαστε καταδικασμένοι να ζούμε χώρια, μακριά ο ένας από την αγκαλιά του άλλου, τον ψάχνω εδώ κι εκεί. Κομματάκια του μικρά, ανούσια, που θα με αφήσουν να ξεγελάσω για μια στιγμή τον εαυτό μου και να πιστέψω ότι είμαι μαζί του, δίπλα του. Ως άλλη Κασσάνδρα, γνωρίζω την πλάνη μου και δεν μπορώ ποτέ να καλύψω το κενό αυτό, το κενό που μένει ανάμεσα σε μένα και τα υποκατάστατά του. Γιατί το κενό υπάρχει πάντα, άλλοτε μικρό και άλλοτε μεγάλο, έτσι για να μου θυμίζει ότι αυτό που προσπαθώ να ζήσω είναι παραμύθι και δεν θα μπορούσε ποτέ να είναι αληθινό. 
Μια κατάρα του Σίσυφου, χωρίς να θυμάμαι ποιο είναι το αμάρτημά μας. Ίσως ήταν ένα προπατορικό, σαν άλλοι Αδάμ και Εύα, να διαπράξαμε  ύβρη, να ζηλέψαν οι θεοί την ευτυχία μας ή ακόμη και από αλαζονεία να τους προκαλέσαμε εμείς. 
Και τώρα, σε ψάχνω στα πρόσωπα τόσων άλλων... Να έφταιγα εγώ; Να έφταιγες εσύ; Να φταίγαμε κι οι δύο; Η λήθη των θνητών μου το κρύβει. Κι αν ακόμη φοβήθηκα και σε σκότωσα και τώρα πρέπει να μάθω να ζω για πάντα κουβαλώντας το έγκλημά μου, μια μέρα θα σε βρω. Θα είμαστε και πάλι μαζί, για ένα δευτερόλεπτο σήμερα, ένα αύριο, ένα στο άπειρο. Θα ζω έρωτες μεγάλους δίπλα στα κομμάτια σου και όταν θα τελειώνουν, τότε μόνο θα θυμάμαι ότι δεν ήσουν εσύ.
Πλάνη ευτυχίας, ναρκωτικό της ψυχής, ο άνθρωπος έπλασε τον Θεό από ανάγκη ή η ανάγκη υπήρχε για να τον βοηθήσει να Τον βρει; 
Όπως και να' χει, στις αγκαλιές των άλλων, θα είμαι η πιο πιστή σου ιέρεια, θα σε λατρεύω και θα σε υπηρετώ. Κι όταν μυστικά θα σε ακούω να ψιθυρίζεις το όνομά μου, θα τους χαμογελώ...



_________________________________________________________________

ΥΓ: Καμιά φορά, όταν είμαστε ερωτευμένοι, ψάχνουμε να βρούμε δικαιολογίες. Ειδικά όταν είμαστε ερωτευμένοι με κάποιον που δεν είναι ερωτευμένος μαζί μας. Ψάχνουμε τρόπους να υποβαθμίσουμε αυτό που νιώθουμε, να πείσουμε τον εαυτό μας ότι τα πράγματα δεν είναι όσο χάλια φαίνονται.
Στην περίπτωση αυτή, θα ήθελα να διευκρινίσω ότι ο κύριος Τέλειος δεν υπάρχει, ούτε στη φαντασία μου, ούτε κάπου αλλού. Απλά είμαι ερωτευμένη με κάποιον που δεν είναι ερωτευμένος μαζί μου. Και δεν είναι ευχάριστο. 

Δευτέρα, Οκτωβρίου 31, 2011

The Terminal

I have no country. I am trying to understand if I ever had one and if I will ever have one.

I never understood the meaning of a country, not even as a kid. I could understand what it means to have common traits with other people, things like a common language, a common religion, common customs or even racial characteristics. This is just something that happens, without being good or bad. So, I was greek, my parents were both coming from immigrant families of greek origin, who used to live in Northern and West Turkey, known as Pontiacs and Asia Minors. Three of my grandparents would speak a different greek dialect, which I could understand, they were all christian orthodox, but there were differences in their customs,  in minor things. My maternal grandmother would cook food from Pontus, but she would make pies using recipes and knit using patterns from the Vlachs, another greek tribe, because, as she used to say, the Vlach women had somekind of expertise in that field. Needless to say, they had their own dialect.

The area where I grew up, was a melting pot of many different greek "tribes". The locals were using a slavic dialect, imposed to them some decades before my ancestors moved there. Pontiacs, Asia Minors, Thracians, Vlachs and others, all had their small, but significant to them, differences from the rest of the groups. But, somehow, they would all get along perfectly. Many years later, when I asked my mother about her father's experiences of living in Turkey - he came to Greece when he was 22-23 years old, she told me, he had many friends there, Turkish, Greek Muslims, Greeks, even Christian Turks and Armenians. Before all the wars had started, they would all get along. Because they were all People. Humans. Homo Sapiens Sapiens.

Growing up, I understood - partly because of my family, my education, but basically because of my travelling all over the world, the importance of accepting and more significantly respecting people who are different from me. I was taught, that despite being a christian, I have to take off my shoes to enter a mosque, respecting the fact that this is a holy place to someone else, exactly the same way I would like a foreign visitor to respect my customs, like not entering the sacred part of the temple. I have been to Muslim - Shia, Sunni, Sufi, Ahmadiyya, Christian - almost every possible kind - I even had communion in a catholic church once (they told me I'm going to hell for doing that), bahai, I was blessed and offered flowers in Hindu temples, I burned sticks in buddhist temples, I prayed in Shinto temples, purifying myself with water and clapping my hands in silence, I was blessed by the living godess in Nepal, I was given charms to avoid black magic, I saw shamans performing rituals with black candles in a catholic church in Guatemala and so on...

What I understood od all that, was that we are all exactly the same. There is absolutely no difference at all. All the people I have met have exactly the same basic needs,
- to eat (yes or no to pigs, cows, frogs, cockroaches, beatles, cats, dogs, doves even rocks/soil and human flesh in extreme cases)
- to have a housing that protects them and where they gather up (villas, penthouse flats, dorms, mansons, sailing boats, huts, igloos, houses made of mud, rock, wood, hay, leaves, cow shit, in a paper box on the street, houses that are destroyed in the summer and built again after the rain season... with pets or even cattle inside their house, snakes for good luck etc.)
- to communicate with their peers (human or not)
- to explain what they don't understand or are afraid of (religion or philosophy)
and so on.
So, small groups of people, depending on the point of integration they had to other groups have more or less of all these things in common. But, what is a country??

According to holy wikipedia, a country is a geographical region. Ok. But what determines this region? What makes some people lucky or unlucky to be born in the right or the wrong place? Since the countries don't signify the territorial presence of a homogenous group of people, then what are they good for? If it's for history, then... in my case... my ancestors' history traces (theoretically) back to ancient greece, but later on, at some point in history, they moved to today's Turkey, so shouldn't I be taught turkish history as well? And today? My country is part of the EU, but my knowledge over Finnish or Croatian history is limited to really basic information, most of which i have looked it up myself. So, I'm learning the history of the different kingdoms that ruled most of the geographical area, I guess, where i currently live. So, now, that I'm looking for a job in Abu Dhabi, I'm doomed.

I hear on the news, my country is in a major financial crisis. Yeah, right. They mean my country is bankrupt, that my country has no money to pay what it has to. So, my geographical area is in debt. Hmm... Weird, isn't it? I'm just trying to understand. Can a geographical area owe money? My poor, ignorant mind says no. People owe money. So, who are those people? Me? My parents? My friends? Which one of them? And whom do we owe it to? My friend, Katerina, lives in London now. She works there and pays taxes there. She is still having a greek passport though. So, if the UK gave money to greece... would she owe money to herself? And me? I applied for a job in Brussels. Will i also owe money to myself soon?

So... it can't be just a geographical territory. If it was, then I would have a country. According to holy wiki, again, it has to be a sovereign state (UK is a big story). Ok. Then... is Greece, my geographical country, a sovereign state, then?  Sovereignty is the quality of having supreme, independent authority over a geographic area, such as a territory. (wiki again) But, as I was taught, the EU treaties and legal acts are supreme to my country's constitution and laws. Currently, since the IMF story started, I hear on TV that the country loses its soverignty. I have not studied law, international economy, history or international relations and I know no more that what most people do. I am only trying to understand if i am a "free" citizen of a "free" "country". I try to understand what it means when I see people out in the streets, demonstrating for the last two years, shouting, burning and destroying (I don't agree to that, but it happens), peacefully gathering, sending letters to politicians, blogging, making all kinds of Facebook groups to express their opinion and the result is that they are just being ignored.

I recently heard on TV - and who knows what this means nowdays, but whatever- that after borrowing all this money and going through all this, the result will HOPEFULLY be, that after the debt "cut", in 2020 my "country" will owe as much money as it did before it all started. They said that the point in all this is that the rate with which our debt will be rising will be slightly smaller than it used to be. But it will still be rising.

When I was sixteen, I went to the EU parliament in Strasburg. We had to work on some subjects back then and make groups and discuss about them. Two of them was the monetary and fiscal policy of the EU and the other was expanding the EU. As I kid, I had to study and find arguements about these things. How expanding the EU territory offers a bigger market, able to be competitive to the US, Russia and the then rising China, India and Latin America Markets. How the differences between the EU ethnic groups - plus the ones that would be later added- would make it difficult to have a homogenous federal country/ state/ organization/ whatever you want to call it, since in the case of the US it helped that they were all immigrants, while here they are not. How we should work - as Europe- into achieving a basic form of integration, so that it gets easier over the time. People studying and working all around, everyone has to learn english and french or german at school, otherwise is considered to be illiterate, (and i have to say that they greeks don't speak or write greek very well) etc. And when the EU constitution effort, well, failed, I guess it meant that not everybody agreed to this integrated idea. I was sorry to hear this, but that's just my own feeling about it.

So, today, with all the things that happenned, I have this weird feeling, a sixth sense thing, that there were new ways discovered to avoid this problem. Since not everybody agrees, there seems to be a little experiment going on. The tests are done on a very EU-friendly country, a small one, that suddenly seems to be threatened by huge problems and ta-da... new tools, like the EFSF or others have the ability to ignore people or governments and this is not just for my tiny "country", but for all the euro-zone countries (decided by the 27 EU members though and not just the euro-zone ones).

I don't care about this. I don't mind. I am not one of those well-educated citizens that know what things should be like and no, I don't have a better suggestion to make. But, please, don't accuse me of that. I am an engineer. It's not my job to know about monetary policies and government systems. If it was, I think I would at least have a more solid opinion to state. I am just a naive citizen, my major problems have to do with being financially independent from my parents, finding my dream boyfriend and achieving the ideal blond hair color. What I don't like though, is being lied to. I don't like feeling that someone plays tricks on me and laughs behind my back. Everybody outide of Greece says that people who live here are lazy and they don't see that all of my friends had to leave the country to work - as immigrants- to ideal jobs where they are not considered to be lazy anymore, but have to deal with racism because of being greek.

I don't care if greece is a country any more. I don't care if it ever was. I don't care if my prime minister is jewish or american or a freemason or whatever. It doens't matter to me. At all. He is free to be whoever he wants to be, but so should I. It hurts when I hear that they called the president of democracy a traιtor and he answered almost in tears that he fought in a battlefield for this country. It hurts more when I realize that I don't know if he is right or wrong. I don't know what to believe any more.

I don't need a country. It might have been a nice thing to have, but since I can't have one, it's ok, for the moment. I only need to know my obligations, my rights, the truth and the freedom to choose. But please, at least give me that. If I was born a slave, if my caste is of the lower kind, please let me know. I was trained to accept my destiny for decades now, so there is no need to worry. But don't tell me that I'm free, when I'm not. I 've learned life isn't fair and I can live with this. But when I feel that Ι'm being wronged, then I have no idea what I might become. 

Τετάρτη, Ιουλίου 20, 2011

Alice in Wonderland


Καμιά φορά μπερδεύεσαι. Μπορείς ή δεν μπορείς. Θέλεις ή δεν θέλεις? Έγινε ή το φαντάστηκες? Και όσο περισσότερο το ψάχνεις, τόσο περισσότερο μπορεί να μπερδεύεσαι και να αμφιβάλλεις. Είναι απίστευτο το πόσο γρήγορα μπορεί να φτάσεις σε ένα είδος παράνοιας που σε βασανίζει με έναν ακραία σαδομαζοχιστικό τρόπο και το χειρότερο είναι ότι δεν καταλαβαίνεις ούτε γιατί ούτε πώς έφτασες σ' αυτό το σημείο.

Το αστείο είναι όταν προσπαθείς να βγάλεις συμπεράσματα για τον εαυτό σου. Σε κάνει να αναρωτιέσαι αν η αυτογνωσία είναι εφικτή ή αν αποτελεί έναν εξ ορισμού ευσεβή πόθο. Αξίζεις συγχαρητήρια για την εκπληκτική διαπίστωση και δικαιούσαι να αντιμετωπίζεις με κατανόηση τους αδαείς ή μήπως έχεις απλά καταφέρει να πείσεις τον εαυτό σου πως η δική σου ανικανότητα έχει βρει επιτέλους την κατάλληλη δικαιολογία? Περίεργο. Είσαι ένας μικρό φαινόμενο αυτο-ελέγχου και κατανόησης των συνειδητών και υποσυνείδητων συναισθημάτων σου ή μια κυρία με μάσκα ύπνου σε κάθισμα αεροπλάνου?

Δεν ξέρω για σένα, αλλά εγώ - για τον εαυτό μου - δεν έχω ιδέα. Και δεν θέλω καν να καταλάβω. Ή να μάθω. Όχι. Θέλω απλά να απαλλαγώ από το βαρύ φορτίο της σκέψης. Θα ήθελα να μπορώ να είναι όλα απλά. Όχι. Θα ήθελα να μπορώ να είναι απλοϊκά. Σε βαθμό κακουργήματος απλοϊκά. Σαν τα simple english. Ωραία ιδέα αυτά.

Φαντάζομαι ότι είμαι για μια στιγμή η Αλίκη. Και ότι φυσάει αέρας δυνατός. Και ότι μαζί με τα τραπουλόχαρτα παίρνει κι εμένα ψηλά, στον αέρα. Και ότι όπως στροβιλίζομαι εκεί, μαζί με τραπουλόχαρτα και φύλλα ξερά και λουλούδια και μαντίλια και πράγματα και γάτες και χρώματα διάχυτα - σαν σε κουνημένη βραδινή φωτογραφία -  ξαφνικά δεν σκέφτομαι τίποτα. Μηδενίζει το μυαλό μου και το μόνο που μένει είναι μια ευχάριστη αίσθηση... μαγική σχεδόν. Πετάω. Και τα σύννεφα... λες να είναι σαν βαμβάκι? Αν θα πέσω θα με κρατήσουν? Θα μπορώ να πετάω έτσι ανακατεμένη συνέχεια? Όμορφα μυρίζει... Θα μείνω εδώ... να αιωρούμαι μαζί με τα τραπουλόχαρτα και τις γάτες.