Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb

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A Little Dark Passage

A Little Dark Passage

Little heaven of white lies
All around beautiful people with dark eyes
Old age swims in the insanity of the eternal damned
And the poor souls all scattered in a pool of blood

“You are the chosen ones”
Or so we were told
But the sky could not content
The inhuman vanity at hand

When the prophecy awakens it will spill its claws
And mankind shall weep forever more
No more sordid tales for the passive ones
Only justice from the Lady of Life

Tears will bleed as the skies will split in half
And the forum of darkness shall gaze once more on the pale stars
The moon shall glow in the obscurity of Man
And its ghastly glitter shall nail the wrong-doers in their tombs

It will be either Flight or Flight once more
And then only the few will taste the Rest and Digest of the House Above
The sinners will bow to the Calling of the Sun
And the believers will resume their Eternal Glow

I fought for this Day; I tried not to bleed at all
I marked the Ending as a Hopeful Fall
But the dull face of the Moon has stricken my Calls
And hid away from my human ungrateful wants

Mother Sun and Father Moon will guide us through
The Passage of Light will cover the nihilistic path of doom
And all the lost and petty Souls
Will walk the walk of the New Dawn

Ode to Impatience

Ωδή στην Ανυπομονησία

Αχ πόσο σε μισώ ανυπομονησία
Πέφτω στο βυθό και βουλιάζω με μανία
Πώς να σε παλέψω μιας και να κολυμπώ δε ξέρω
Μέσα στου χρόνου τη σκιά πάντα αγριεύω

Ανυπομονησία μου γλυκιά
Πολύ με κάνεις κι’ υποφέρω
Στο’ χω ξαναπεί πως εγώ
Απ’ του χρόνου τη ζημιά
Δύσκολα ξεφεύγω

Πάψε χρόνε πλέον να κυλάς
Άλλο μη με καταδιώκεις
Τα δαιμόνια σου είναι φοβερά
Στης λήθης τη συγγνώμη

Έλα χρόνε πιο κοντά
Κι’ αγκάλιασε με, με θάρρος σιωπηλά
Σαν πιστή σου σκλάβα μια βραδιά
Θα σε καρτερώ στης ερήμου τη νυχτιά…

Moonlight Sonata

Η Σονάτα του Σεληνόφως

Κανένας δε σε ξέρει όπως εγώ
Είσαι το άπειρο και το μηδέν μου
Είσαι η κόλαση και ο θρίαμβος μου
Είσαι η ζωή και ο θάνατος μαζί
Όλα τα κύτταρα μέσα σε χορό τεράτων

Είσαι το ακατανόητο και η λογική
Η ψευδαίσθηση και η συμπόνια
Μια απαισιόδοξη δημιουργία μέσα στην Άβυσσο
Μια όαση μέσα στο Χάος

Όλα αυτά που ακούγονται τρελά και μανιασμένα
Όλα αυτά που ακούγονται περιττά και ξεχασμένα
Είσαι όλο το πάθος μιας επιτρεπόμενης κόλασης
Μια λάμψη στο βάθος μιας απόλαυσης

Είσαι η γη, το φώς και το απέραντο
Είσαι όλα αυτά που τα μάτια πιάνουνε στο μάταιο
Και όλα αυτά που η πεινασμένες λέξεις δε θα μολογήσουνε ποτέ
Γι αυτό για μένα είσαι η Σονάτα του Φεγγαριού στη Χώρα του Ποτέ!

~Για την Τεκέλα των Αστεριών~

The Lost King Speaks....

Ο Χαμένος Βασιλιάς Μιλά…

Πυράκτωσης παλιά εβύθισε τα πλήθη
Και εχάθη η μιλιά στου ονείρου μας της λήθη
Όλα τα πουλιά στη άσφαλτο σφαγμένα
Να τραυλίζουν σιωπηλά «βοηθήστε με και μένα».

Πετούν οι γύπες κι’ οι αετοί σαν της κόλασης δεσμώτες
Και παραμονεύουν με οργή της αμάθειας άγνωστους πότες
Έπεσε η μορφωμένη Βαβυλώνα
Και γέμισαν με δάκρυα αίματος οι Μάγοι
Και βούτηξαν στην όνειδο με τα μάτια στο στομάχι

Η θυγατέρα σαν έσυρε το παρθενικό κορμί της
Αποκάλυψε τα έσχατα με το πρόστυχο φιλί της
Για όλα όσα εθρυμμάτισσε ο άνθρωπος με τα μαύρα χέρια του
Και για όλα όσα θα υποστεί στη θέληση του Άθλιου Πεπρωμένου του

Έλα χρόνε και κάλυψε ξανά την κόλαση του είδους
Έλα χρόνε και συννέφιασε ξανά το ξεπούλημα του πλήθους
Σαν γελάδια πάνε στην γλυκιά γκιλοτίνα
Και με ανοιχτά πανιά νομίζουν πως θα λυτρωθούν από την άχαρη τους πείνα

Σαν πέθανε κι ο Βασιλιάς σκορπίστηκε στους πέντε ανέμους
Των ανθρώπων η σιγαλιά χίμηξε στους άσπρους υπονόμους
Και εκεί που τραγούδαγαν για έρωτα κι αγάπη
Τώρα εβουβάθηκαν σαν της Νύχτας ο Βασιλιάς έφυγε σα Πνεύμα της Απάτης

Και έπεσαν τα στίφη να τον φάνε μονομιάς
Με δίψα και με άπειρο μεράκι
Για ν’ αποδείξουν γι’ ακόμα μια φορά
Ότι για κείνους πλέει μοναχά του Ασώτου το Νεράκι

Και σα μας βλέπει ο Βασιλιάς από πέρα μακριά
Γελάει με δύναμη και τόλμη
Και λέει στο Δημιουργό του σα πέφτει η Νυχτιά
«Ναι, Χτύπα τους κι’ άλλο Ακόμη!»

The Daughter of Chaos

Η Κόρη του Χάους

Σουτ! Μη μιλήσεις…
Ότι και να πεις πλέον θα ναι λίγο
Μηδαμινό για τη γιγαντιαία απληστία της ανθρωπότητας
Σουτ! Όλα είναι πλέον αργά…
Η προσπάθεια σου για ζωή, η δίψα σου για δημιουργία

Θα χαθεί για πάντα ότι φτιάχτηκε μέσα σε αιώνες
Και θα μείνει μονάχα μια άστατη σιωπή στο χάος
Θα σκορπιστούν οι παιδικές φωνές στα πέραντα του σύμπαντος
Και θα λουστεί στη μαύρη λησμονιά ο γαλάζιος πλανήτης

Άρχισε δισεκατομμύρια χρόνια πριν
Και εξελίχθηκε σε όαση υλικών επιτευγμάτων
Πάλεψε, ζορίστηκε και αναγεννήθηκε
Ντύθηκε με των αθώων το αίμα
Και σα σκλάβα κατάφερε να ελευθερωθεί στα δίκια της

Ήταν όμορφη! Το γαλανό της φόρεμα και τα πράσινα μαλλιά της
Την διαχώριζαν απ’ όλα τ’ άλλα αστέρια του Χάους
Τα άσπρα μάτια της έλαμπαν στην ανατολή του Θεού Ήλιου
Και κάθε αυγή έψελνε επαίνους στο Δημιουργό της

Σκυφτή κι’ αμίλητη υποτάχθηκε στο νέο της Αφέντη
Και άφησε να τη βιάσουν και να τη χλευάσουν σα κοινή πόρνη
Πέρασε από αιώνες σκλαβιάς, πείνας και ντροπής
Μα σουτ!, Μιλιά ποτέ δεν έβγαλε από τα μαύρα της τα χείλη

Από κοριτσόπουλο βρέθηκε να γίνει η τσούλα του Μαύρου Γαλαξία
Τα νιάτα της σκορπίστηκαν στον γιο του Αιόλου με πλήρη ασυδοσία
Και τώρα προσπαθεί με τα νύχια σα καρφιά, με μαράζι και με αηδία
Να ξεμπλέξει τις τσουκνίδες απ’ τα μαλλιά σα να χει ελπίδες στη πορεία

Κυρά μου ξενιτεύτρα, σουτ, σου λέω!
Άλλο μη μιλάς, μη προσπαθείς να λογικέψεις
Την ανθρώπινη ύπαρξη μη προσπαθείς άλλο ν' αγριέψεις
Θα είναι μια ζωή ακόρεστη σα Σειρήνα του πελάγους
Με φαρμάκι τρυφερό να στάζουν απ’το στόμα τους οι λέξεις!

Τα πόδια σου ματώσανε και τα μάτια σου μαύρισαν
Άρχισες να παραμιλάς για εγκλήματα φρικιαστικά κι’ εσύ σα τους Τιτάνες
Και ξεχνάς πως κάποτε και εσύ σα κοπελιά έκρυβες στα μανίκια σου Αράχνες

Έλα που όμως ο Πλάστης σου ποτέ του δε ξεχνά
Τα όσα σου’χουν δώκει
Και ετοιμάζει τη πέτρινη Στρατιά
Που δικαιοσύνη θα αποδώσει

Γι’ αυτό άκου με καλά,
Μάνα, ερωμένη και αγωνίστρια
Γαία εσύ γλυκιά, ποτέ ξανά
Μη αφήσεις τα παιδιά σου
Να μιλήσουν φωναχτά

Παρά μόνο στα βαθιά πέρατα του Άδη
Πάλεψε σιωπηλά για τα όσα γέννησες
Στου Χάους την Νυχτιά
Και σκόρπισε ξανά του Ονείρου την Απάτη!

Like that, Like this

Just like that, just like this
My heart trembles on your knees
Eight months and some days
Till eyes of sparkle meet again
I thought I was dead and immune to your foreign call
But just like this, just like that
Everything again turned to cold
This time I will face the dragon alone
And fight his shadows which call
You’re still away but yet you long for that unexisted closeness inside
I thought I could, I thought I had, lost you
But just like that, just like this
Once more I’m on my knees
I have passed you and found myself through your ashes
But you’re resurrecting in me slowly
Just like sin into an unwanted pious cell
Leave! Leave, I say
Be gone, hard feeling and leave me behind
Take off thy mask and expose their grief
Your villainy and lechery,
Be gone from this tranquillity,
This peace that surrounds me
Be gone and look back no more
Just like this, just like that
Unveil your hideousness
And prove me right once more
Help me escape this dance you’ve put me in
And make me sit silent and immobile
I loved your past, so long ago
I fear to meet your present, now here I go
And long to taste your future, alone
Agonizing, this wait it is
Agonizing and painful to discover thee, again
But just like that, just like this
I’ll arm myself and defeat the feeling
That brings my bosom down and makes me still
For truly now, there’s you without me
As it always was and is
Just like that, just like this!

The unlived angel

The unlived angel

No tales for thee my child
But just a sweet woeful song
To guide you in the morn of your new dawn
And hold you up to the blue heavens of eternity

Fare thee well unlived angel
Carry on thy course in the New Kingdom
And pray the skies are more welcoming
But hold thy last breath in your mortal flesh for company

Folly was the harm done to thy not fully grown body
And selfless was your vain sacrifice
For the rest were carried out in humanity’s vanity
Instead of the soul’s chastity

You had your two young feet drowning in a river
Half blue and half red it turned the day your sun expired
And you decided to pass on for the explosion which was coming
So that others could profit from the innocent’s blood

And yet you reach your now immortal hands
And give hope for the oppressed
And a handkerchief for the woeful
And head towards the pathway of eternal light

I bid thee fare well
And may a New Sun guide your journey
Unknown unlived angel…

~Dedicated to the late Alexandros Grigoropoulou, who died so unjustly, so prematurly.
For that White Fallen Angel~

Damien Saez - Tango L'Alhambra

A Scene of Oblivion

I am leaving this sea of wretched people
And storming into the deep blue sea
With no fins and no rescue aiders
I intend to blind them with my sun

All you people who giggle and wiggle
Your limbs will spread into the abyss of oblivion
For all that was said, for all that was done
You shall be accustomed and blamed for

Hide your thorny crowns
Because in the land of tomorrow
You will have no dress for your head

Hold your tongues tight
And enunciate word by word your dreadful mistakes
Keep you drowsy eyes and cry blood from your pupils

I shall be looking into your darkness
And laugh for all those things you thought I’d lost
I shall keep my eyes as sharp as a cat’s
And spit fires into your flesh like a shark

Once I have left you in this misery of night
The black stone shall be cast
And as I live and breathe in this thorny land
I promise to Him I shall never look back!

Gloriana, Ω!, mon Anglettere…

Μέσα στα κόκκινα πέτρινα σπιτάκια

Χτίζονται συνέχεια της ψευδαίσθησης παλάτια

Με μεγάλη υπεροψία και με μπρίο

Νομίζουν ότι θα ξεφύγουν απο το κρύο

Γεμίζουν σακούλες μιας άθλιας απάτης

Και εμπλέκονται σε μια πάλη ανισοτιμίας

Παλεύουν για το όνειρο μιας πλάνης

Και υποκύπτουν στης καταπίεσης την ευκολία

Περπατάν με τα μάτια σφαλισμένα

Και μέσα στη γκριζάδα τους προσπαθούν να βγάλουν αποθημένα

Τα όμορφα κουστούμια τους πάλλονται σε γραφεία ασυδοσίας

Και όλα τους τα όνειρα πεθαίνουν στις ράγες με μανία

Έλα σου' παν στο όνειρο του καπιταλισμού

Και άνοιξ’τα φτερά σου διάπλατα

Μα γρήγορα κατάλαβες τι είχαν κατά νου

Σαν είδες του κόσμου τ’Άθεα

Δίψα για τη σκλαβιά του τέρατος

Και υποταγή στην αναμφισβήτητη μοίρα της υποκρισίας

Λόγια δειλά, στολισμένα με ψέμα και μια άστατη πορεία ενός βλέμματος

Χωρίς ενέργεια και θέληση, υποκριτές της αμαθείας

Αδαής περπατούν με το κεφάλι ψηλά

Σα κότες κοιτάν το γαλάζιο ουρανό απο μακρυά

Μέσα στην απελπισία και στην εξάντληση είναι όλοι ντυμένοι

Και μόνο με την άρνηση προχωρούν ενωμένοι

Πάγος ;eχει καταντήσει πλέον η μάταιη ζωή τους

Χωρίς εν δια φέρον για να σβήσουν την άθλια σιωπή τους

Τρέχουν ολοένα και δε φτάνουν

Να προλάβουν να μη βουλιάξουν

Έρχομαι και γω με χέρια κρύα και κοιτώ

Την ‘άστατη’ χλιδή και τα ανέραστα κορμιά τους

Και τότε είναι που σκέφτομαι "Αχ! πότε θα σπάσει αυτή η σιωπή

Και να εκραγούν πλέον τα ανούσια κύτταρά τους!"

~Αφιερωμένο στη Τεκέλα των Aστεριών~

The Lovers' Eyes

They say when you are in love and you are in bed with your "sweetheart", as they used to call it in old times, the moment you were into your lover's body or the moment that your lover was inside of you, that both lovers' eyes meet and gaze each other with such tenderness and passion like no other moment. Your pupils are dilated and they get so big and full that you feel all of your passion and your energy transmitted into the other person's body. Such passion makes bodies one and brings two hearts into one single beat.

Shakespeare once described this physical act of love as "making the beast with two backs". The expression, albeit being very voulgar and perhaps cynical, is nothing of the sort. It explains how to bodies intertwine and are entagled in this game of passion and lust and they pulse against one another. The most liberatig, freewilling and overwheleming sensation of human existence is to penetrate someone or being penetrated by someone and feel this maze of emotions all tangled in a web of exhilirating dancing.

Such feelings can be approached in love making. Many treat it as something vulgar and cold, something that our society has let them treat it with no emotion or dignity. Sexual activity in any form has to carry sentiment and madness of thought. It has to be treated like the madness of the body, but the openness of mind as well. It lets your cells give into your animal insitcts and lets your body react to what is feeling at that one single heated moment.

When lovers meet into each others bodies' they feel this bewildering sensation of hedonistic pleasure that human kind can feel nowhere else.Pulsing and pulpitation of flesh and irrationality of mind rule the entity and they let the lovers' eyes meet in one brief but yet wholesome moment during the sexual act.

I say this is one of humanity's wonders; a miracle that transends eternities and feelings. It may not be as big in scale as the Pyramids or theTaj Mahal, but it can build a lifetime of happiness and pleasure with a lover.

Those Two Little Blue Eyes

YOU STUPID COW! Such I am.I have literally been blinded by my arrogance and my pride and do not take a second to look at the boy who looks at me with such sweetness. He is sitting close to me over my desk in my office and I do not even pay attention to his attentive eyes. Of course on the other hand you might think I'm totally dillusional about his whole attitude but how can two little blue eyes look at me in that way and not care? They do, but since my two eyes will be departing from the work place very soon, I will not get to see how it would turn out. If those eyes could care for me as much as I would like them to.

Maybe those eyes would look at me with hate some day, therefore maybe to leave is the best thing.Because that way I will always have those two sweet blue eyes inside of me. So caring and serene. Almost as if they are singing angelic psalms to you. The boy, whose eyes I am talking about, remains a boy to my two arrogant eyes. But my eyes wished they would let those eyes care for them and treat them with the gentlness they seek.

I shall miss those two little blue eyes. And I will always think I am a bloody stupid cow for not letting those two eyes come any closer. But as life has it, it's unfair, and the those two little blue eyes have to remain behind, in the darkness of the past. And here I go again; starting to look all over again for those two gorgeous, tranquil, gentle blue eyes again, who will care for me so much.

Maybe it is all in my head and those two little blue eyes never cared for me. Maybe they did and I will never get to know now. Whatever the case may be, I shall awlays treasure and carry those two little blue eyes with me. Even when I turn old and grey, I shall revisit those two little blue eyes of my youth, and remember that even for one tiny second they seemed to care for my dark brown eyes.

Stream of Consciousness

Stream of Consciousness

Lights are brazing high in the cynical air
Buildings pale as ice sway in the midnight
And sins are dancing in the streets of madness
Fighting for screams of an old century

Fish swim pessimistically in a bubble of lies
Filled with ambition and sadness in their ignorant eyes
Holding their health in plastic bags
And throwing their faith in the white wasteland

Poor souls! Cried the old-greyed man
Holding the stick of eternity in his withered hands
Pointing to the skies of no return
And bellowing for a night that never came

Poor fools! Cried the beauteous girl
Facing the sun with hopelessness again
Wanting to tear the world with her two grey eyes
Filled with anger, misery and brine

Amongst the hopefuls here he lay
A mad Adonis in a sea of sharks
Waiting for the woeful Venus at hand
To stir out the daggers in his heart

The man looked grim as the breaths slowed down
He looked at the sad sun and begged one last chance
The watery eyes filled the thirsty land
And blood danced among the vigorous waves of the heart

Beating spread across the universe of man
And the ghastly Venus fell from the sun’s glory
Atonement swam in the kings’ hearts
And a blaze made the cradle of life vanish in worry

Nina Simone - Wild is the Wind

Three years ago...

What is the driving force that leads people to fall in love, and always fall for the most unsuitable persons? I’ve often found myself in such a situation without knowing or fully understanding why that is. I guess I’m always hoping for the all time love like some people do and along the way I get carried away by the light air of love, the beautiful thought of being in love and aching for someone who deep down I know it is not the all time love, but is the good enough of right now. That is because as you watch your life pass you by, you settle and go for the one-night-stand-good-enough’s and simply convince yourself that the good enough of right now is ultimately the all time love, because as it is often said good enough is as good enough you will get in this life and life should be filled with actions instead of endless awaits for the ultimate, the perfect and ultimately the all time love.

Late at nights though, thoughts haunt me knowing how cynic our world has become. So much, that we’ve literally stopped believing; not in religion or to some higher authority that controls our lives, but instead we’ve stopped believing in ourselves, in the power of greatness. We see each other as game toys, or even revenge toys that you can canalize your unfulfilled desires, scattering that way a mass chaos which leads only to the so called psychotherapy of everyone on this planet. We simply forget to question why exactly were we put on this planet, why were we made the way we are, why were we made to procreate and survive? Was humanity ultimately to end up the way it has and how proud are we for all that we have done so far? So proud indeed so as to kill each other, betray, steal, cheat, leave people barring colour or shape to rot. We extol writers, singers, poets and actors for trying to open the eyes of the people in what is really going on around them and that they should act against the rottenness and the misery that we spread daily in our path without even realizing it. It is indeed stupid to think that some poor lines are going to move the common people. A fine reason for people to become cynics against life, and just compromise with all its ugliness and its corruption, drugging though more people with they, usually their offspring.

Therefore with all these, how can a feeling that was defined by people survive through this corruption? How can the feeling we named ‘love’ survive and change humanity? Was it deliberately discovered or defined just to make people search for something that could not and still cannot be found and to keep people alert, or was it simply an impulse, a spontaneous thing that humans defined to explain the way we mate and procreate? Can we be considered as ignorant as the ancient Greeks were, when they gave a name for everything that could not comprehend or explain? Did we do the same thing? Are we all just pawns of humanity’s ignorance? If we really sit down and analyze it though, we are bound to discover that love has nothing to do with mating or procreating, and that we might indeed fulfil that saying that ‘ignorance is bliss’. The only thing that is amiss with this saying though, is that we have turned this ignorance into something spiteful, full of adversity and misery. We have turned our mating and procreating habits to things that can only be accepted if the feeling ‘love’ has only to do something with it. We have though, in later years, defined mating habits with other words such as ‘passion’ or ‘desire’ or ‘lust’ so that we can escape the word ‘love’ and to justify to human society the prime instincts of mating with a suppose urge which cannot be avoided when two humans have sexual attraction, ‘making love’ as it is most gently placed in words by humans, so that we can again avoid words that might reveal that indeed mating is animalistic. Animalistic as mating can be considered though, we cannot entirely exclude the fact that it cannot be made with tenderness or with a more gentle way. Of course mating will always be violent at some extent in order to be enjoyed and give pleasure to humans, but it can also provide warmness before or after the sexual mating of two humans.

And what made me develop a theory that negates and nullifies the word ‘love’ that explains all the emotions that people feel for another human being? Simply because I’ve come to realize quite recently that if we do accept the term ‘love’ we are indeed compromising with life’s conventions and that we might be letting ourselves falling into a trap that our ancestors have placed noiselessly upon the later generations, that’s us as well, in order to explain or even to contain people from ‘humping’ one another impudently. Therefore, how much can we trust the word ‘love’ and should we indeed compromise with the term for the rest of our lives, leading most of humanity in this endless search of the one person who can personify the word ‘love’? I wouldn’t if I were in you. I deny shamelessly the word ‘love’ and cease this endless search that I was taught to do since the dawn of my life.

Written
12/07/2006

Ελληνικό Λιοντάρι

Και μου λέει μια συνάδελφος πριν λίγο..."Μην ξεχνάς οτι είσαι Ελληνικό λιοντάρι". Το γεγονός; Είμαι σε μια δουλειά εδω και μερικούς μήνες, η πρώτη μου πραγματική δουλειά για την ακρίβεια και δυστυχώς μου έπεσε ο λίγοντας. Γιατί το λέω αυτό; Δεν είναι ότι είμαι τεμπέλα, άμαθη και χωρίς εμπειρίες. Αλλά όταν το αφεντικό σου έρχεται στην δουλεία και μέσα σε μισή ώρα σε κάνει να αγανακτάς, να κλαις και να'χεις ημικρανία τότε κάτι σίγουρα πάει λάθος.

Όταν το αφεντικό σου πηγαίνει για μεσημεριανό για 2,5 ώρες, μπεκροπίνοντας στη διάρκεια του break του, και γυρνάει πίσω στο γραφείο φέσι, μη ξέρωντας εαν θα αρχίσει να σου φωνάζει για λάθη τα οποία έκανε εκείνος ή εαν θα αρχίσει να σε αστειεύει γιατί δε μπορεί να συγκεντρωθεί για να δουλέψει, τότε σίγουρα κάτι πάει πολύ πολύ λάθος σ' αυτή τη δουλειά.

Θέλω να παραιτηθώ!!!Η μάνα μου μου λέει να κάνω ότι πιστεύω εγώ καλύτερο. Ο πατέρας, καθαρά αυστηρός Έλληνας λέει "μέινε εκεί να σκληρήνεις" άσχετα εαν πλήρωσε τα μαλλιοκέφαλα του για να με σπουδάσει κάτι το οποίο δεν έχει καμία απολύτως σχέση με αυτό που κάνω τώρα.

Ακόμα και το highlighter μου έχει δυνοπαθήσει και έχει αρχίσει να εξαντλήται με όλη αυτή τη κατάσταση. Οικονομική κρίση, my ass! Εγω αυτό που ξέρω είναι οτι περνάω τις ώρες και τις μέρες μου σε μια κωλοδουλειά που δε μου προσφέρει τίποτα ΑΠΟΛΥΤΩΣ, η οποία δε με κάνει καν ανεξάρτητη οικονομικα, η οποία με έχει κάνει άλλον άνθρωπο, γεμάτο μιζέρια, παράπονο και κλάμα. Νιώθω πως είναι καιρός να πάρω την κατάσταση στα χέρια μου πλέον. Γι' αυτό έχω αποφασίσει να παραιτηθώ, να μείνω ταπί και να ψάξω για μια δουλειά που πραγματικά θα μου προσφέρει κάτι, οχι μόνο σε μένα την ίδια αλλά και στους δικούς μου.

Όσο ιδεαλιστικό και να ακούγεται αύτο θα κάνω. Παιδιά, σκυλιά και γκόμενους δεν έχω. Κανείς δε με κρατάει και άλλωστε μια φορά στη ζωή μου είμαι 22 χρονών, γι αύτο δε θα αρχίσω να παίζω το παιχνίδι απο τώρα.

Και όσο μαλάκας κι αν είναι ο κοντός Αγγλοινδός (the boss) σε μερικές μόνο μέρες θα του πω ένα "'Αιντε και στα τσακίδια" και θα κινήσω για αλλη μία φορά για το άγνωστο! Κι όπου με βγάλει παιδιά! Άλλωστε μη ξεχνάμε...είμαι Ελληνικό Λιοντάρι! :)

Καλογιάννης - Άνοιξε το Παράθυρο

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f10kdcd-Gjg

Garbage

"ΜΗΔΕΝ ΕΣΤΙΝ Ο ΑΝΡΘΩΠΟΣ

ΜΗΔΕΝ Η ΔΥΝΑΜΙΣ ΤΟΥ

ΜΗΔΕΝ Η ΦΑΝΤΑΣΙΑ ΤΟΥ

ΜΗΔΕΝ Η ΥΠΑΡΞΙΣ ΤΟΥ

ΜΗΔΕΝ Ο ΠΛΟΥΤΟΣ

ΔΟΞΑ ΚΑΙ ΙΣΧΥΣ

ΜΗΔΕΝ Η ΩΡΑΙΩΤΗΣ

ΤΑ ΠΑΝΤΑ ΟΝΑΡ ΚΑΙ ΣΚΙΑ

ΤΑ ΠΑΝΤΑ ΜΑΤΑΙΟΤΗΣ"

~ΔΑΥΙΔ~

"Man is Zero
His Strength is Zero
His Imagination is Zero
His Existence is Zero
HIS Wealth is Zero
The Glory and the Power
Beauty is Zero
Everything but a Dream and Shadows
Everything is Vainity!"
~David~

So I was on the bus to work this morning when I passed a garbage truck and I got thinking of the poem above. It
seems weird how garbage and the poem by one of the most remembered emperors of history can be related. But
they can because both show the vanity of human kind. The poem basically talks about all the earthly achievements
of humans and that everything that we do in this life is vain, for our actions will never match the godly ones and that
no matter how many luxuries we have in this life, all is but garbage. Man is vain by birth. From the moment we open
our eyes and we are shown all the 'goodies' of this world we are brought up to whorship and exalt everything material.
Our goodies are our surroundings and we think that the more 'goodies' we possess the more staisfaction we'll feel inside.
But why don't we ever feel it and the minute we buy our £200 shoes or our £500 watch within days we get bored of it
and consider it a garbage? Why do we forget that we spent endless hours at work, at a job we might hate (or not) and
then we go and literlly piss it all away in something that we know its going to quinch that craving we have deep down but
which will not feel the void. And thus ladies and gentleman, and the rest of you lot out there, we become even more
greedy, even more vain. Because we simply cannot be pleased. So, and if indeed what David wrote is true, if all is vain
in our world, in our earthly world, whether you believe in God or a power beyond or not, what is the point of it all?

I was reading a passage from the New Tastament the other night, which I had read a long time ago but had forgotten
about it and my mom reminded me of it; the passage is from a letter from the Corinithians B' and is called 'LOVE'.
The letter speaks of love; not just romantic love, but all kinds of love, love as a whole. It says that love should be
unselfish, should be pious and ready to accept and forgive the other person's wrongs(lover, child, mother, father,
friend, colleague etc). It says that love does not boast and is never envious, and that all that will be left in this world
for the centuries to come are three things; faith, hope and love, and Love is the strongest of them all.

Well I don't know about the rest of you, of what you think of the above passage but when my dad saw my mom
reading this he simply said 'my god you two are such romantics'. Like so many other people who might have read this
poem, I don't think he realized what the extract meant and simply thought that the piece was talking of the romantic love
and nothing beyong. But let's take this in another prespective; what is love? where is love? and why in our times is so
hard to find, to see on the streets, to feel it in our hearts, for our fellow human being. Why do we care more for our Rolex
and our Rolls Royce than we do for our elderly neighbour who is struggling to carry his groceries home? And if all our
achievements are vain, how are we suppose to achieve love, which goes beyond the man-made things of this world? Is it
all just theories and make-believe after all?

We definitely need a Maulder and Scally on this one 'cause it is one of the unsolvable mysterious questions of human
nature? I think that everythig around me is simply garbage, a load of crap; money, lies, aimless conversations,
unpassionate sexual encounters, 'shinny' materials which simply lose their glow after a few hours of their purchase.
Hypocricy, lies, backstabbing, rudeness, power struggle, a vast jungle. Animals are more civilized than we are.
At least they have respect for one another. What we have is greed and madness for the total nothingness!

So I can go on for hours and never reach a conclusion 'cause let's face it; this is a titanic subject. I will simply finish
with a poem by one of my favourite poets hoping that his optimism will preserve the faith, the hope and the love in
me to close my eyes to the blackness of this vain world, and open my heart to the light of another! I hope you will do
the same!

Ένα το Χελιδόνι

Ενα το χελιδόνι κι η άνοιξη ακριβή
για να γυρίσει ο ήλιος θέλει δουλειά πολλή
Θέλει νεκροί χιλιάδες να 'ναι στους τροχούς
Θέλει κι οι ζωντανοί να δίνουν το αίμα τους.

Θε μου Πρωτομάστορα μ' έχτισες μέσα στα βουνά
Θε μου Πρωτομάστορα μ' έκλεισες μες στη θάλασσα!

Πάρθηκεν από μάγους το σώμα του Μαγιού
Το 'χουνε θάψει σ' ένα μνήμα του πέλαγου
σ' ένα βαθύ πηγάδι το 'χουνε κλειστό
μύρισε το σκοτάδι κι όλη η άβυσσος

Θε μου Πρωτομάστορα μέσα στίς πασχαλιές και Συ
Θε μου Πρωτομάστορα μύρισες την Ανάσταση

A Solitary Swallow

Α SOLITARY SWALLOW and a costly spring,
For the sun to turn it takes a job of work,
It takes a thousand dead sweating at the wheels,
It takes the living also giving up their blood.

God my Master Builder, You built me into the mountains,
God my Master Builder, You enclosed me in the sea!

Magicians carried off the body of May,
They buried the body in a tomb of the sea,
They sealed it up in a deep well,
Its scent fills the darkness and all the Abyss.

God my Master Builder, You too among the Easter lilacs,
God my Master Builder, You felt the scent of Resurrection!

I am tired!

The reason being is the fact that I am surrounded by lies, taboos, hypocricy, fear, indiference and materials.
I hate people who praise and whorship money; their god! The god who will buy them into the most hip spots in the town, who will
buy them Gucci bags and Fendi watches, MaXfactor cosmetics and Prada perfumes. Dishonesty and identity cirisis rules here.
Welcome in the land of 'I-don't-have-a-clue-of-who-the-fuck-I-am-and-what-the-fuck-I'm-trying-to-do-with-my-life!". Instead of
doing that boring, and the oh! so mundane thing called, 'sou-searching', most people choose the sweet release of mindless nights out,
filled with booze, unrhythmic dancing and smoking, whilst at the same time trying to 'shack' up with their next 'love' victim.
Well maybe not so much love, as a one-off just because we are bored of explaining ourselves in the morning. "And who said
books and retro music and theatres are fun? My grandfather used to go to the theatre. Instead I'll chose my mindless drinking,
because if I don't drink when I go out with my mates, I am BOUND not to have fun! And I love my twenties, I love my life. Fuck
liver, and the rest of me. Hey! As the song says 'Live and Let Die!' right?" - Wrong! Newsflash people! Life will catch up on
you, and someday you'll wake thinking 'what the fuck was I thinking?', but by then you'll be 43 and alone.

Lies, taboos, love, sex and more lies. Boy meets Girl. Girl falls for Boy. Boy can't be bother to chase after Girl any more.
Girl gets frustrated and tells Boy to go f*** himself, athough what she really means is f*** me. Girl is devastated by Boy's
indifference. Girl and Boy hang out in the same group of friends. Girl is madly in love. Boy is simply passive, although he
secrety has a thing for Girl. Girl starts to psycho-analyze every possible word and gesture of Boy. Boy gets frustrated. Boy
becomes even more apathetic to the whole situtation. Girl and Boy caught up in the 'spider's web'. They lie, pretend, talk but
words hidden underneath the bullshit that their mouths utter. Boy and Girl are basically f***** up! And the question is: (as the
poet also asks) To speak the truth and be done with, or not to speak the truth and continue floating in the same bubble of lies,
and taboos?! Hey! The second option's probably easier. Let's do that! No wonder there's lack of communication in 'our
society'. There's no society because we simply are not following the term. Society comes from socialite which means ' the social'
aka people caring and speaking with one another. We simply have gone beyond the term. We might as well call this a no-speak-
to-anyone-planet! That'd be much more correct.

To the Girl; an advice. Stop freaking psycho-analyzing everything and go out and face the Boy. Tell him to get over himself and
be staight with you; is he interested or not? If the answer is yes, then tell him to f****** take initiative and take you as a man! If
the answer is no, then get over yourself (Girl). If the answer is a 'oh we can try open relationship, cause I don't want to settle just
yet', tell him "to stop being a f****** boy and take a risk. You don't ask for a ring. you ask for him, and if he isn't man enough to
do the same, then p*** off!"
To the Boy: a warning. If you don't get your fat, lazy ass and be a man and chase the Girl, like a proper male, the object of your
'lower-heart's' affection, then you are indeed the most sinfully boring being on this planet, and I truly believe that you'll desrve it
when you become 40 and you're still eating you're mommy's home made chicken pie. Man, was essentially created to 'chase' its
'pray', not to sit and wait for the 'pray' to come to him and say "here I am, please eat me!"

Why all this nonsense of not ever saying what we are really thinking? Of what we really, truly, deeply want to say? Why does
everyone succumb to the social norms? Are you that afraid of getting burned? You'll heal you know. Unless you jump, you
won't fall, and unless you fall you won't learn how it feels, and if you don't feel, you're dead, period! Just say what you want to
say; but a warning also applies here: do not speak aimlessly! It just won't serve! To Boys & Girls: process the words before they
pop outside that heavenly mouth of yours. Count your words wisely and speak your mind with respect. Be harsh, if you must,
but be harsh with elegance and style. That's called etiqette, and it's one of the things which makes us (humans) differ from dogs
and rats! Although, we are heading dangerously towards that direction.

Inspirational Speech (oh god one of those again!):
Why, oh why all this nonsence of being afraid of letting go of our parents wombs? F****** grow up and move out. Leave in
inconvinience and become an adult yourself. 'Cause my darlings, even if you inherit the multi-billion industry from your folks,
you're bound to come up on empty on either your emotions or your profession. Money don't last. But the self does. Plough yourself,your spirit, your heart, your mind and your entity, instead of jwelling your body with eartly treasures (aka cars, bags,
rings, watches, mobiles etc etc) Make money your means in life, and not your reason in life. Don't numb(booze) the pain which
is deep in your guts. It will come back again! I'm telling you, it will. Instead, heal it. Live with it. And make your peace with it. Don't
be afraid of the hard and difficult things in life, but be afraid of the ordinary and the boring things. They are far more
dangerous and fatal. Live for the moment, yes, but live it wisely, and with reason. Push yourself every day a bit more, and you'll
see every day you'll be more proud of yourself. Don't do things to prove yourself to anyone. And don't do things just because the
flow goes with it. Live outside your waters, and you'll see; some day you'll fly! Do things for yourself, and fight only for yourself.
And be fucking proud for it! Becuase lady luck helps the people who dare to fight and risk!

Randoms

How do you feel victim of your own heart and mind?

How do you leave behind all these images that encircled your past?

How do you walk away with the silence burning on your lips?

How do you feel when the wind blows on your ignored face?

Two steps and out of the cage

Close your eyes and burn your thoughts away

Love too closely and fall in the eternal trap

Love with wisdom and clever lock your own parts

Place a key for your own valuables

Put the three-headed dog to guard it day and night

And make it defend it like its jewels

But always learn when you love with that key in your head

Place your heart on the silver pedestal and not the gold

Make bad thoughts into a river of mud and wash the sadness off

Hide the misery with a hard smile and walk away with your two left feet

Blow the candles away and see the rainbows that fall on your feet.

Make love and forget the key

Keep it locked for that rainy day

And mind you pray that all will stay

As the priest told you on your eyes’ first day

=======================================

Όπως ήρθα στη ζωή έτσι και θα φύγω

Μόνη τυλιγμένη με πράσινες και κόκκινες κορδέλες μες το χιόνι

Πες μου το πάλι πόσο μ’ αγαπάς

Κι’ ας είναι ψέμα από την καρδιά

Άστο δάκρυ να κάνει βόλτες στο σκοτάδι

Μιας και κόκκινο γέμισε το ποτάμι

Τυλίγομαι στις φλόγες του και πάλι

Μέσα στα κόκκινα νερά του

Μιας και δεν υπάρχει ζεστασιά

Για του ‘δάκρυ’ τη καρδιά

Δε θέλω να σκεφτώ τη νύχτα ετούτη πάλι

Μα πως ν’ αρνηθώ ξανά τι υπάρχει στο σκοτεινιασμένο μου κεφάλι

Πόσο να παλέψω ενάντια στο γαύγισμα σου

Που σα τσακάλι όλο ουρλιάζεις

Τα βράδια στ’ όνειρα μου

===========================================

Like that, Like this

Just like that, just like this

My heart trembles on your knees

Eight months and some days

Till eyes of sparkle meet again

I thought I was dead and immune to your foreign call

But just like this, just like that

Everything again turned to cold

This time I will face the dragon alone

And fight his shadows which call

You’re still away but yet you long for that unexisted closeness inside

I thought I could, I thought I had, lost you

But just like that, just like this

Once more I’m on my knees

I have passed you and found myself through your ashes

But you’re resurrecting in me slowly

Just like sin into an unwanted pious cell

Leave! Leave, I say

Be gone, hard feeling and leave me behind

Take off thy mask and expose their grief

Your villainy and lechery,

Be gone from this tranquillity,

This peace that surrounds me

Be gone and look back no more

Just like this, just like that

Unveil your hideousness

And prove me right once more

Help me escape this dance you’ve put me in

And make me sit silent and immobile

I loved your past, so long ago

I fear to meet your present, now here I go

And long to taste your future, alone

Agonizing, this wait it is

Agonizing and painful to discover thee, again

But just like that, just like this

I’ll arm myself and defeat the feeling

That brings my bosom down and makes me still

For truly now, there’s you without me

As it always was and is

Just like that, just like this!

-----------------------------------------

So here we meet again,

In a room full of glitter and glamour

The smiles shone away in the midst

And everyone was filled with gaiety and fervour

I didn’t tremble on my knees

As I’d expected such a deed

But yet I hoped for one single moment still

To see your truth in front of me

You’re still in possession of a lustrous sin

And I could not be jealous nor sad

But all I wished for your was a happy heart

(One moment full of anxt and passion

Filled with edge and reluctance)

Words filled with nonsense but something underneath

And now I left you to your needs

The wants rarely come in this life

To me it was denied to wish after them

The forbidden and the sin within

I only approached it once, in those dreams

Which always reflect thy “feels”!

Δε θα σε σκεφτώ άλλο πια

Έχω αρχίσει να μαζεύω τα γυαλιά

Από τη θρυμματισμένη μου καρδιά

Golden Globes Awards - Daily Mail Review by Jan Moir

OH, DO PUT A GONG IN IT!

It used to be called doing a Gwynnie but now, after those Golden Globes waterworks it’ll be a Winslet. JAN MOIR wishes they’d all dry up…

As a sobbing Kate Winslet dissolved into a puddle of damp fervour at the Golden Globes on Sunday night, she fired the starting pistol for the lunch of 2009 film awards season. ‘I want to thank my beautiful agents!’ she howled, and for once she wasn’t talking about her own breasts.

Already you knew this was going to be a speech to treasure and a night to remember. And as the red carpet clogs up with celebrities who have been on nothing but he Master Cleanse and paprika water diet for months, viewers must prepare for the usual emotional journey down the watery flume of fame.

Get your umbrellas unfurled, for there come the annual geyser, of gush as the big stars of stage, screen and television prepare to make acceptance speeches hosed down in treacle and self-congratulation.

We know the script. We have been here before. Whether it is the Guild Awards, Critics Awards, the Globes, the Baftas or the Oscars, the winning stars all profess themselves to be humbled. They will be so very happy. They will be beyond grateful as they thank the producer, the make-up girls, the costume guy, the Academy, Mickey Mouse, Grandpa Smurf and Uncle Cobbleigh and all for their incredible support.

They will talk about how hard they have had to fight, although they never mention any specific battles. Fight what? Or who? And where? It has been a mystery to me.

They will always claim to be totally speechless- but unfortunately that is a bigger lie than Mickey Rourke’s new face.

And, finally, they will take every frayed opportunity to remind you of their struggle and the rags to riches to clichés story of their lives. ‘I’m just a girl from a trailer par who dare to have a dream,’ said Hilary Swank when she won an Oscar in 2005.

One year later, on the same stage, Reese Witherspoon worked herself into a mom and pop lather. ‘It didn’t matter if I was making my bed or making a movie. They never hesitated to say how proud they were of me, and that is so important to a child,’ she burbled.

Oh Reese, I’m sobbing already. And it’s not just because of your vast collection of Anya Hindmarch handbags and your adorably pointy chin.

Tell me this. If all our major film stars are supposed to be so good at acting, why do they overact so much when they win one of these awards? At the Golden Globes, the drool spouted by double winner Winslet was a textbook example of old school Hollywood gush and gabble. Ouch, Kate, that was really painful to watch- even if it all started out so well.

When her names was read out loud for her first award as Best Supporting Actress for The Reader, Winslet raised a fist to her forehead. Interesting. This was the kind of gesture normally used by mothers when they realised they’ve left the baby by the check-out in Sainsbury’s.

Kate had to be helped onstage by a bouncer where, in traditional style, she paid tribute to just about everyone. She then got all blubbery over her children.

‘Thank you for coming on this adventure with Mummy,’ she sobbed in an epic hammy and cheese moment- although the mites could hardly have had a say in the matter, could they?

With her second award- as Best Actress in Revolutionary Road- was announced, things got even more out of control. This time, Winslet has to be helped onstage by two men; her legs had turned to jelly and her feet scraped along the ground as if she had just been dragged senseless from the maw of a hurricane.

‘I love you. I am so sorry,’ she began, in a promising unhinged way. She sounded like she may have inhaled some helium in the interval. Excellent.

Then, in a delicious gaffe, she somehow managed to forget Angelina Jolie’s name. Jolie, who looks like a malevolent alien at the best of time, almost pulsed with displeasure. Have you ever seen a hissing mambo dressed in silver Versace? Well, darlings, now you have.

In some respects, Kate Winslet’s effusive gratitude is understandable. The Reading-born actress has been nominated for major awards on many occasions, but never won a single rosette. Until Sunday night, she was Hollywood’s very own Waity Katie; the blushing bridesmaid who never got the gongs.

However, with two Golden Globes now in the bag, her inner diva has been unleashed on the unsuspecting world. Kate’s screaming genie is out of her lamp. Forever.

‘My gosh! I can’t believe this role came my way and feel into my hands like this,’ she howled in her final acceptance speech. Kate, let me give you a clue: your husband, Sam Mendes, was the director.

What is it with actors and actresses? The way most of them carry on, you would think they had rescue a score of children from a burning orphanage instead of being biddable, presentable and able to do what their directors tell them without making a fuss.

Somehow, they turn the ability to recite their lines without bumping into the furniture into an activity of monumental consequence to the universe. Is there no end to their clueless and self-centred behaviour?

Look. There are people in the real world who really are deserving of public recognition. For some unfortunates, it takes an enormous courage just to get out of bed every day.

There are people who manage to stay cheerful under the most distressing of circumstances. There are those who fear of their lives in the midst of global conflicts, and many who don’t know where their next glass of fresh water is coming from.

And then there are actors, who seem to turn into sobbing misfits in sequins at the first glimpse of a gold statuette. Last year, the French actress Marion Cotillard gave a kidney-puckering performance when she won the Best Actress Oscar for her role as Edith Piaf in La Vie En Rose. ‘Gulp. Gosh. You have truly rocked my life. Thank you so mush,’ she began.

‘Thank you life, thank you love. It is true that there are some angels in this city!!!’

Hale Berry gave an even greater masterclass in over-thetop acceptance speechless when she won for Monster’s Ball in 2002; the fact that the hand of history was on her shoulders seemed to derange her, just like it did with Tony Blair.

Berry was the ‘first woman of colour’ to win an Oscar and clearly saw herself as the Rosa Parks of the sequin circuit. By winning, she believed that the ‘door tonight has been opened’ and that she had been chosen to ‘be the vessel’ for all the racial harmony that was to come.Yes, point taken Halle; now get off the stage.

In 2001, when she won her first Oscar, Julia Roberts said that she was ‘feeling the sisterhood’ and thanked ‘everyone I have ever met in my life’. To director Steven Soderbergh, she gushed that ‘he made me want to be the best actor that I suppose I never knew I could be or aspire to’. Which just proves how useless actors are without scripts.

In fairness, sometimes the men are just as bad. When Daniel Day-Lewis won an Oscar last year for There Will Be Blood, he gushed that the idea for the film sprung ‘like a golden sapling out of the mad, beautiful head’ of the director.But, ladies and gentleman, the benchmark for Oscar inanity still goes to Gwyneth Paltrow.

In 1999, when she won for Shakespeare In Love, Gwynnie was sobbing before she was even out of her seat. She thank everyone, including boyfriend Ben Affleck (who subsequently left her for another woman) and even her ‘Grandpa Buster’ who had, apparently, ‘created a beautiful family’.

Dear God. The film awards ceremonies are the biggest monster’s ball of all time. And gulp, the season has only just begun. Hankies at the ready. Or should that be sick-bags?

~Jan Moir~

Τα παιδιά μας

Όμορφα, κομψά και ψυχολογικά βιασμένα
Εύθραυστα, ευαίσθητα και όλο θυμωμένα
Ταλαιπωρημένα, πεινασμένα κι’ αισιόδοξα
Μετρούν τις δεκάρες σαν καινούργια Χριστιανόπουλα

Η Δύση κι’ Ανατολή τα χωρίζουν
Τα μεν πεινούν για ύλη τα δε για πνεύμα γαυγίζουν
Κι’ όλο στο πεζοδρόμιο η ύλη κι’ η ψυχή τραυλίζουν
Βρισιές ακαταμάχητες και μόνα στο τέλος βαδίζουν

Τι να σου κάνει κι’ αυτό το πλάσμα που’ ναι όλο μονάχο
Που όλο παλεύει για δόξα κι’ όλοι το πετάνε σα σκουπίδι στο βράχο
Πότε επιτέλους θα έρθουν τα Πάνω Κάτω
Και τα Κάτω Πάνω;
Για να πάψουν να κλαίνε αυτά τα παιδιά στους δρόμους των Άλλων;

The girl in the Corner

Woman in darkness staring away
Trying to find the strength to stay
Playing again with herself odd novelty games
Always stumbling on the same stupid lane

Captures the magic which blows away
Feeling the sadness of forcing pay
Letting her dreams fade to shades
And holding again a cross for a friend

Agonized and lonely she prepares
Facing now all the monsters and fears
Marching to the unknown dark pitch
But her pale lips can mutter no speech

Yet!, She wills herself to try the new
She grows obsessed but with faith too,
Battles away her old desires and fears new
But always recalls what she came here for; to find the truth!

Λύκοι και Πρόβατα

Οι εγωιστές και οι ρυθμιστές παλεύουν το ανθρώπινο μέλλον με βία
Όλο ύλη και ισοτιμία λαχταρά το θνητό τους σώμα
Μα όλα σε μια ατέλειωτη ευθεία ξεδιπλώνονται σα να ναι ποτάμι από αίμα
Και να χουν ξεμείνει έξω από την εκκλησιά μόνο κορμιά πεινασμένα

Τι χάθηκε στο παρελθόν δεν είναι πλέον εδώ
Μόνο η δίψα για πρόοδο και ύλη
Τι να σου κάνει η παρακμασμένη σου καρδία όμως
Πώς να πλησιάσεις την νιρβάνα της ψυχής αφού σε μεγάλωσε η πλαστική ύλη

Τα σκυλιά του δρόμου γαυγίζουν στην δύση της Ανατολής
Τα γατιά της Δύσης αναπαύονται καθώς παραπονιούνται για περισσότερη άνεση
Και οι δυο καταδικασμένοι σε χρωματιστά κελιά
Οι μεν μένουν σε χρυσά κελιά με αλυσίδες σα χρώμα πίσσα
Οι δε πιεσμένοι σε γαλάζια κελιά δεμένοι με άσπρα σχοινιά προορισμένα για την αγχόνη

Ποιανού τα δάκρυα και τα παρακάλια να πιστέψεις
Αφού κι οι δυο μολύνθηκαν από της ύλης τ’ αγαθά
Απαίτηση και κατανάλωση υπάρχει κατά νου
Μα όλα θα θρυμματιστούν στης Ανεξαρτησίας τα πέτρινα πόδια

Δώρα να λάμπουν κάτω από χρωματιστές μπάλες στη γκρίζα Δύση
Καθώς πέτρες ξεχύνονται στα χαντάκια και τα κεφάλια της γαλάζιας Ανατολής
Κάποτε η χώρα ήταν μια πλημμύρα από ηρωισμό κι αγώνα απαράμιλλο
Τώρα έχει γίνει πλέον μια νωθρή και παθητική συνήθεια

Μα δεν αργεί να εκραγεί η οργή της Ανατολής
Και καθώς τα γαλάζια νερά θα πετρώσουν με το αίμα των αθώων
Η Δύση θα μείνει άπρακτη και ναρκωμένη
Γεμάτη με ψεύτικα χρώματα και με μη εμπνευσμένες συνήθειες

Το παιδί έχει τώρα ξεψυχήσει περιτριγυρισμένο από παπαρούνες
Και το γαύγισμα ηχεί στους δρόμους της καταπίεσης και της ανισοτιμίας
Άλλοι αλληλοεπαινούνται με υποκρισία και ασυδοσία ψεύτικής τιμής
Και άλλοι ξεσκίζουν τις σάρκες τους για την «Νέα Γη».

David Cook - Billie (Billy) Jean

the rock version...

Fiction and Reality

So here's the thing; as I was walking today home from the doctor's office I realized one thing; the reason I like to write and create characters and think about fantastic stories and watch fictional tales and all that has led me to come to realize that my single insignificant life is most of the times so grey that I like to fill it up with colours, laughter and passion. Full of exciting and interesting moments that don't usually occur in real life. I'm not suggesting that they don't happen ever but they usually don't happen every day. Maybe that's why they are so precious and so rare. But the thing is that; is it so bad to live through my fictional characters? To live what they live, to experience what they experience, to fall in love whenever they do, to get their hearts broken all the time, to get excited or cry whenever they do?! Is it really so bad to live a part of your life through fantasy, through stories and through characters which exist inside you and not around you?

I may be called a dreamer or someone who lives life full of illusions instead of a realist, but deep down I believe that reality and fantasy are interrelated somehow. You create the world you want to live in. And even if that world does not come true in your reality that doesn't mean it cannot come true thru either the written world or thru the visual world. Everyone loves to hear someone else's story and every one carries their own baggage, their own unique tale to tell. Everyone has a fantastical world they like to escape to, and this is mine.

I love creating characters. I love to listen to them talk, cry, laugh, kiss, make love, eat, dance, yell, be angry, hate, smash things, being bad or being naughty/bad. I like the fact that they live in me, therefore they hold a part of me; they are me. I like the fact that I can make them say whatever they want to say without any taboos or any censorship involved. But most of all I like the fact that thru them I get to enjoy my day. I get to laugh, cry, laugh, fall in love etc etc. I like the way they make me feel inside even if they are not real to the outside world. Because for me they are very much alive; flesh and bones, heart and mind. Full of life and soul, just like me. Only difference is I am the only one who can understand them totally and completely because to me are like my children, my own flesh and blood, my unique alter ego.

So is living thru someone else's life (fictional or not) so bad?....

I think not....

What do you think?
.......