Clueless Dead

Nightwalking

2011-02-25T17:12:00.006Z

Walking slowly on a straight line, I can hear your wooden soles clanging faster and faster on the wet pavement. It is the third consecutive night that you visit this damp, air-bereft and empty of any sign of life basement. There never is a hint of any light escaping from the interior, nevertheless you seem to be able to know your way in the dark just fine.

Peculiar, isn't it? It is only a couple of years ago when your aversion of anything less lit than a flaming chariot became so evidently clear to me. Thankfully we managed to turn this candle lit rooftop meal quickly into a frenzy of blinking coloured lights. I remember us joking about it laying on the beach later, it felt like a funfair date indeed.

The smell coming up this basement could be that of freshly cut roses on a rainy day at the beginning of April been left for a moment on sacks of rotting Blue Mountain coffee beans until their bearer delivers his cargo of Marseilles green soap to the morgue master. All this intermingling of life and death fits perfectly with how we always dreamt contentment to be, a calmness impregnated with so much unrest it makes the earth tremble and the blood to thicken.

I said we dreamt. Well, OK. I dreamt. You lived.

I have not seen anyone else go in or out of the basement, in day or night. And even you only started visiting -three minutes precisely each time- three nights ago. What could be that calls you back? Oh wait. there is this old man. After you leave each night, he walks down the stairs and looks through the darkened glass. I am not sure what he can see, I emulated his actions last night but managed to see absolutely nothing. Maybe his old age has taken its toll on his memory and every night he forgets there is nothing to be seen through there. Your wooden soles are now making an ever so faint effort to reach my ears, whatever calmness knowing you are close brings to my soul is reached rather hard now.

You never were the quiet type, much like me, I suppose. Aligning all the freshly emptied (of course) metal rubbish bins at the end of our street so we can then trample them down on our bikes was our favourite midday summer activity. Sometimes other kids from the neighbourhood would join us, but their participation was most often cut short by their parents who -maybe rightly so, not that I come to think about it- considered the risk of a broken neck or a cut from the sharp metal lids a rather unjustified possible collateral for a laughter filled afternoon. When we did have accidents, these were -thankfully- minor. Bumps and scrapes, the odd flat tyre, it was all part of the fun.

Your steps can no longer be heard. I am not sure if your wooden soles have finally put enough paving slabs between us or you stopped walking so I can catch up with you. I turn back as I am not yet ready to find out.

Kwnstantinos

Life is for each man a solitary cell whose walls are mirrors.

EUGENE O'NEILL, Lazarus Laughed

A long way back...

2010-08-15T00:47:00.006Z

Has reality nothing to do with life after all? Whoever came up with the idea of a clock was a sad man, for sure. Trying to plod our way across oceans of memories is destined to failure. Fighting against torrents of our mistakes will only serve to exhaust us. Prolific dreamers and persistent lovers suffer the same destiny. Denial and reality are bitter medicines, bitter enough to choke us to submission.

Try not to make too much noise, there are people trying to sleep. They are getting up to go to work in the morning, forgive their kindness. Their toils benefit us all, these are the heroes who make the world go round. We are simple creatures hoping from laughter to cry and back in our own sterile existence, often unnoticed by most, save the damned few who still are able to feel.

Having to walk for most of the way, our feet often bleed and sometimes the flesh comes off them. We carry on regardless, after all our bodies are just the excuse. Endless conversations with ourselves often reveal things we thought we had forgotten lifetimes ago. No matter, soon we will be able to bury them again under a pile of left overs from our everyday struggle to appear normal.

I remember one time I managed to walk the length of an entire country and not speak a word to a living soul. Mind you, it was holiday high season and everyone was too occupied with looking good, trying on their new clothes and pretending they were alive.

A good shower and a shave is often all we need in order to shed our old skin. Managing amazing feats seems insignificant now, a beer and a 50in plasma TV is all humanity needs. Stop talking, they are explaining why we should be quiet and consume. Do not ask, copy. Do not argue, fear...

Kwnstantinos

Finished with my woman
'Cause she couldn't help me with my mind
People think I'm insane
Because I am frowning all the time

All day long I think of things
But nothing seems to satisfy
Think I'll lose my mind
If I don't find something to pacify

Can you help me occupy my brain?
Oh yeah!

I need someone to show me
The things in life that I can't find
I can't see the things that make true happiness
I must be blind

Make a joke and I will sigh
And you will laugh and I will cry
Happiness I cannot feel
And love to me is so unreal

And so as you hear these words
Telling you now of my state
I tell you to enjoy life
I wish I could but it's too late

Black Sabbath- Paranoid

April, damned April

2010-04-10T02:14:00.002Z

Kwnstantinos

Today

2010-01-14T23:26:00.003Z

Today, albeit for a brief moment, I felt alive. Alive like I never had felt before. It was all triggered by an insignificant but very powerful sight. Watching this old couple crossing the street holding hands, I felt part of human kind again. True, it was only for a split second, but this cannot be taken from me. Ever. I think I even managed a smile. And a sigh. What made me the chosen soul to partake to this silent exchange of love? What debt, forgotten by time itself, was repaid to me in such a token? Did the two aged companions realize how happy this made a soul as wet as mine? Are they going to miss this, now that it became mine to keep? Probably not. What they have, belongs to them and this is how it will continue, until the end of their days. What they unknowingly shared with me, was a reflection of their soul, clear and enlightened, true and kind. Like all souls are. At least those who were spared the terrible secrets of existence.

I often wish I was one of these few lucky ones. Being able to enjoy -anything or anyone- has to be one of the most honest, most wholesome, one of the deepest and most refreshing experiences an immortal soul can have. Standing face to face with such beautiful and unspoiled gifts in life was enough for me though. When you have what I have, when you see what I see and do what I do, being allowed to witness such a tranquil deposit of love, is a gift beyond any of my expectations. To be able to do so as an equal amongst equals, an unknown amongst unknowns, makes it even more rare.

Today, albeit for a brief moment, I felt again.

Kwnstantinos
There's a lady who's sure All that glitters is gold And she's buying a stairway to heaven When she gets there she knows If the stores are all closed With a word she can get what she came for Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh And she's buying a stairway to heaven There's a sign on the wall But she wants to be sure 'Cause you know sometimes words have Two meanings In a tree by the brook There's a songbird who sings Sometimes all of our thoughts are Misgiven Ooh, it makes me wonder Ooh, it makes me wonder There's a feeling I get When I look to the west And my spirit is crying For leaving In my thoughts I have seen Rings of smoke through the trees And the voices of those Who stand looking Ooh, it makes me wonder Ooh, it really makes me wonder And it's whispered that soon If we all call the tune Then the piper will lead us to reason And a new day will dawn For those who stand long And the forests will Echo with laughter Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, ooh, whoa, oh If there's a bustle in your hedgerow Don't be alarmed now It's just a spring clean For the May queen Yes, there are two paths you can go by But in the long run There's still time to change The road you're on And it makes me wonder Aw, uh, oh Your head is humming and it won't go In case you don't know The piper's calling you to join him Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow? And did you know Your stairway lies on the whispering wind? (Solo) And as we wind on down the road Our shadows taller than our soul There walks a lady we all know Who shines white light and wants to show How everything still turns to gold And if you listen very hard The truth will come to you at last When all are one and one is all To be a rock and not to roll And she's buying a stairway To heaven...
Led Zeppelin-stairway to Heaven

November

2009-11-23T23:10:00.002Z

Kwnstantinos

I am waiting...

2009-09-28T22:47:00.003Z

I have been longing for your presence. For months now I have been praying for your coming. Nevertheless, you took me by surprise. Despite me having spent endless evenings biding farewell to the sun and smiling welcome to the moon with your thought in my mind, the announcement of your arrival came as a sweet thus melancholic shade on my palette.

From now on everything will be different. I shall be there for you, quenching your thirst and warming you when you are cold. Trying to teach you my wrongs so you can avoid them, introduce you to my rights so you make them worthy.

Will I manage? all I know is that I shall try. I shall.

Kwnstantinos

By the first of August
the invisible beetles began
to snore and the grass was
as tough as hemp and was
no color--no more than
the sand was a color and
we had worn our bare feet
bare since the twentieth
of June and there were times
we forgot to wind up your
alarm clock and some nights
we took our gin warm and neat
from old jelly glasses while
the sun blew out of sight
like a red picture hat and
one day I tied my hair back
with a ribbon and you said
that I looked almost like
a puritan lady and what
I remember best is that
the door to your room was
the door to mine.

Anne Sexton - I Remember

Empty

2009-08-26T01:55:00.001Z

Summer is gone and left us alone in the garden...

Kwnstantinos

Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnaval balloon
Like a carousell that's turning
Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking allong the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Alan Bergman and Michel Jean Legrand-Windmills of Your Mind

What, now?

2009-08-05T00:34:00.003Z

I often hear people complain about their misfortunes. I find it weak kneed and jejune, almost certainly I overhear conversations about things someone else did, something that the narrator -for lack of a better word- could do nothing to avoid. Fatalistic behaviour displayed by unwilling actors.

I admire those who welcome adversity with a dignified defiance. Those who decide to go for a walk in the midst of a gale-force storm are either stupid or heroic. More often than not one contains a generous amount of the other. But they do not blame the storm. How could they. They are either too stupid to notice it, or too heroic to care. Either way, when they get back home and dry their drenched clothes and battered body they sport a smile that only someone heroically stupid can understand and claim to share the pleasure of.

Can anyone rightly claim they are too weak to react but strong enough to complain about being too weak? Deciding to stand outside in the storm is the hardest part. After that you put your life in the hands of the elements, hoping for the best. It is your decision to you do this, and yours alone. You are ready to face the consequences, simply because you want to. After all, stupidity and heroism are never compatible with reason or any kind of reality.

Sometimes we come back limping, often we never come back. Simply disappearing is a common occurrence for heroes and stupid alike. Quite regularly, this disappearance is not even their work. The rest of the world sometimes just closes its door on them, right after their shadow fades passed the first corner, sketched by the oil lamp flickering in the storm.

Coming back to a hermetically closed door guarding the quiet town they never hesitate. There is always another walk to be had. another storm to befriend...

Kwnstantinos

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own
I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemies eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead!
Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key
Next, the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
upon pillars of salt, and pillars of sand.

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
Once you know there was never,
never an honest word
That was when I ruled the world.

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People could not believe what I'd become
Revolutionaries wait
for my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world

Hear Jerusalem bells are ringings
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
I know Saint Peter will call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world.

Coldplay-Viva La Vida

Keep your coins

2009-07-09T15:09:00.001Z

Kwnstantinos

Travelling in a fried-out combie
On a hippie trail, head full of zombie
I met a strange lady, she made me nervous
She took me in and gave me breakfast
And she said,

Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder?
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.

Buying bread from a man in brussels
He was six foot four and full of muscles
I said, do you speak-a my language?
He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich
And he said,

I come from a land down under
Where beer does flow and men chunder
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.

Lying in a den in bombay
With a slack jaw, and not much to say
I said to the man, are you trying to tempt me
Because I come from the land of plenty?
And he said,

Oh! Do you come from a land down under? (oh yeah yeah)
Where women glow and men plunder?
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.

Men at work-Down Under

Partisan

2009-06-10T23:44:00.009Z

When they poured across the border
I was cautioned to surrender,
this I could not do;
I took my gun and vanished.

I have changed my name so often,
I've lost my wife and children
but I have many friends,
and some of them are with me.

An old woman gave us shelter,
kept us hidden in the garret,
then the soldiers came;
she died without a whisper.

There were three of us this morning
I'm the only one this evening
but I must go on;
the frontiers are my prison.

Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,
through the graves the wind is blowing,
freedom soon will come;
then we'll come from the shadows.

Les Allemands étaient chez moi,
ils m'ont dit "Résigne toi"
mais je n'ai pas pu;
j'ai repris mon arme.

J'ai changé cent fois de nom,
j'ai perdu femme et enfants
mais j'ai tant d'amis;
j'ai la France entière.

Un vieil homme dans un grenier
pour la nuit nous a caché,
les Allemands l'ont pris;
il est mort sans surprise.

Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,
through the graves the wind is blowing,
freedom soon will come;
then we'll come from the shadows.

Kwnstantinos

It's me

2009-05-25T18:49:00.004Z

I sometimes stop, dead on my tracks, and attempt to understand. Trying to allow the full meaning of these words; this moment; these sights to take good hold of me and conquer me. Affording this luxury to my surroundings I am quickly liberated. Being free from all that ties me to this life is my biggest and most cherished achievement. There was a day and a time when I was constantly treading at will in and out of the compromise most people call life. Roaming into other people's dreams, enriching them but always keeping a piece of this treasure for me. A private gift that nobody needed to know about.

Explosive laughter and unprecedented joy was my gift to them, I ever so often exchanged it for a moment of peace. The tormenting voices would then stop and I was awarded the privilege of solemnity, albeit for a brief moment. I deemed this enough, so did my tormentors who swiftly returned to sink me -yet again- into an ever growing and familiar despair.

Never did I fully understand the meaning of debt. It always was an alien and -I dare say- enemy concept to me. It contradicted and countermeasured my inherent and deep need to share freely what I had aplenty, and take whatever others would spare. Little did I care about measuring or repaying, never did I prevent anyone from a second helping of me.

But there always seems to be another me. A me that wants to go. A me that wants to give it all up and run to the hills. A me that counts, measures, writes and demands. A me that I love, as much as I hate. A painful but modern me. A me with a day time job, a me with a car and a wife. A me with a mortgage and a me without friends or benefactors. This me nobody chases, nobody cares to destroy. Peace, in this me, is constant, a me tormented by what I am, a me that refuses to give in to my true nature.

I sometimes stop dead on my tracks and trace my steps back to where I came from. As if I am trying to erase my future and build a new past, a present where I can offer my gifts undisguised and pure. Find a me where I can, once again, extend my arm and reap the fruits of life without having to say sorry and please.

I always stop and think. Sometimes I start walking again. Other times I just stand. Until I realise it is always me. It is me who decides, reacting and adapting. Me again...

Kwnstantinos

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"
One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt, and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
Once you know there was never, never an honest word
That was when I ruled the world

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn't believe what I'd become
Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest work
But that was when I ruled the world


Hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter will call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

Coldplay- Viva la Vida

Answer me...

2009-05-15T02:39:00.002Z

Your April

2009-04-12T00:06:00.000Z

Kwnstantinos

Here. Come.

2009-02-27T03:35:00.005Z

Have you smelled my dreams yet? They are baked for you. Flour and tears with two drops of milk and a pound of memories. Come. Hold my hand and hear my story.

Fear me not as I am not myself anymore. Accept me as I was, not as I was hoping to become. Walk with me on a bended line, break the circle and send them fears crawling back to never.

Amalgamate all my smiles and tin them up for the cold moonths. Speak of me as if you knew me. Frustrate my existence by denying my reasons. Feed your love with my kisses, torpedo my mind with injections of brilliance.

Shake me so I know I can be moved. Love me so I can remember that I am.

Afford me the luxuries you wish to sell.

Hide from me and I will reveal myself. Warn me and I promise I will dissobey you.

Embrace me and I will try to tolerate me...

Kwnstantinos

Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.

Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.

Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.

The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.

The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

Here I love you- Pablo Neruda

Islands?

2009-01-17T00:24:00.000Z

Kwnstantinos

Ohne Dich

2008-12-15T02:22:00.003Z

Kwnstantinos

Ich werde in die Tannen gehen
Dahin wo ich sie zuletzt gesehen
Doch der Abend wirft ein Tuch aufs Land
und auf die Wege hinterm Waldesrand
Und der Wald er steht so schwarz und leer
Weh mir, oh weh
Und die Vögel singen nicht mehr

Ohne dich kann ich nicht sein
Ohne dich
Mit dir bin ich auch allein
Ohne dich
Ohne dich zähl ich die Stunden ohne dich
Mit dir stehen die Sekunden
Lohnen nicht

Auf den Ästen in den Gräben
ist es nun still und ohne Leben
Und das Atmen fällt mir ach so schwer
Weh mir, oh weh
Und die Vögel singen nicht mehr

Ohne dich kann ich nicht sein
Ohne dich
Mit dir bin ich auch allein
Ohne dich
Ohne dich zähl ich die Stunden ohne dich
Mit dir stehen die Sekunden
Lohnen nicht ohne dich

Can you hear me clearly now?

2008-09-19T02:21:00.004Z

Hallo, good morning. Can I help you?

The same line, time and time again. Like the whispering raindrops on my tin roof, your velvet voice echoes in my dreams.

Hallo, good morning. Can I help you?

Smiles from another world, another time and another life. For that I am sure. Strong, sculptured young female bodies taken from an ancient Greek tragedy embrace me. Is top the clock and rewind my existence. Is this really happening?

Hallo, good morning. Can I help you?

Long walks by the sea reveal inside me oceans I tried to dry out a few thousand years ago. My every breath is a prayer to Gods fallen amongst stone temples and rivers of lust. I attempt to reach you in my dreams but you seem to have discovered a secret way to keep me awake and far from you.

Hallo, good morning. Can I help you?

After a while it stops being about me, it never was about you anyway. Closing my eyes brings me back memories of your fragrance, a harmony between explosive lemon zest and tranquil manoglia. I attempt to avoid crushing the camomile under my feet. I stop and watch the children at the swings in the nearby park. I think I can evade your attenton, this time I might be able to own my thoughts. My dreams are once again contrabanded with you. I stop and breathe deeply. I am already next to you. and you are none the wiser...

Kwnstantinos

Words like violence
Break the silence
Come crashing in
Into my little world
Painful to me
Pierce right through me
Cant you understand
Oh my little girl

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Vows are spoken
To be broken
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Enjoy the silence

Depeche Mode- Enjoy the Silence

Caesar

2008-09-02T23:34:00.003Z

Coming down the dim stairs afterwards, I was trying to get my mind distracted from the lingering thought of becoming bereft of so much in an instant. It only took a glance from your swollen eyes for me to realise what had just happened. Fifty years we were waiting for this. Fifty years that we could not spare.

Feeling barren and vanquished, a strong sense of emptiness benumbed and deluged me. I decided to partake of what he used to call essence of his spirit. I cannot say I was a big fan of single malt, I never could understand the commotion surrounding this humble product. Nevertheless, this was not my day. It was his day, and today I liked single malt whiskey. As simple as.

Losing track of time came as a relief, I found myself leaning against the big couch in the 'Mediterranean garden ' at the back of the house, next to the Orange tree. I must have been taken hostage by the dream generative properties of the said alcoholic beverage, as I could quite severely feel the arteries on the side of my head throbbing, an attempt -I figured- to circulate alcohol-free blood to my brain as soon as possible.

I passed outside the house one more time, three months after the last -and final- episode in my thirty three years long existence. I was able to see faintly through the metal bars on the fence, the 'Mediterranean garden' was in full bloom and Caesar, the German shepherd was curled in a corner, a few yards away from his little house. Watching Caesar lying there dead, amongst the honeysuckle and the Magnolia in a sunny May afternoon gave me some peculiar sense of internal warmth. I -for some reason- felt that nature, the nature he so carefully looked after, was giving him what it always did that time of the year. Colours, aromas, sounds, life.

I left with my mind and heart appeased. I never went back. Never will.

Kwnstantinos

Well I'll be damned
Here comes your ghost again
But that's not unusual
It's just that the moon is full
And you happened to call
And here I sit
Hand on the telephone
Hearing a voice I'd known
A couple of light years ago
Heading straight for a fall

As I remember your eyes
Were bluer than robin's eggs
My poetry was lousy you said
Where are you calling from?
A booth in the midwest
Ten years ago
I bought you some cufflinks
You brought me something
We both know what memories can bring
They bring diamonds and rust

Well you burst on the scene
Already a legend
The unwashed phenomenon
The original vagabond
You strayed into my arms
And there you stayed
Temporarily lost at sea
The Madonna was yours for free
Yes the girl on the half-shell
Would keep you unharmed

Now I see you standing
With brown leaves falling around
And snow in your hair
Now you're smiling out the window
Of that crummy hotel
Over Washington Square
Our breath comes out white clouds
Mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
We both could have died then and there

Now you're telling me
You're not nostalgic
Then give me another word for it
You who are so good with words
And at keeping things vague
Because I need some of that vagueness now
It's all come back too clearly
Yes I loved you dearly
And if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid

Joan Baez- Diamonds and Rust

Soon

2008-08-20T01:15:00.003Z

A sad song. One last kiss. Many happy returns. To me...

Kwnstantinos

tunnel

2008-07-22T01:00:00.004Z

Trying to come out of the final tunnel I felt I was pursued. I was not too sure by whom, or even if it really was someone there or my brain was playing one of its usual tricks. You see, there have been many occasions lately that I feel someone is there, someone following or preceding me. When I turn around to face the unknown companion, I am face nothing, nothing at all. I then walk on with a feeling of relief, often accompanied with a slight disappointment.

Disappointment not so much for the fact that I have to endure another sunrise -I really feel bereft and lacking every time the sun decides to reveal himself to us humans- but mainly because I am bound to walk -yet again- unchallenged into the uncertainty of my mind's realm.

I always enjoyed spending Saturday nights alone by the banks of a river or the shore of an ocean, but lately I find myself compelled to repeat the ritual ever so often. This is not to say that I feel any kind of compulsion, my desire to be by the water is more of the noble kind, the kind that leaves a sweet smile on your face when you have the privilege to pursue your heart's longing and a bittersweet taste in your mouth when you have to leave early to catch the last train back to the monstrosity that others call civilisation. Even when I am unable to reach the shore I do not feel that empty. Like a river that calmly -but rather quite persistently- seeks to find its estuary, I kinow in the depths of my heart that I will eventually be reunited with my destiny and will be able to hold hands with her on a sandy or shelly beach.

Comming out of the tunnel I felt all of a sudden overwhelmed by the lights, a familiar feeling of discust for everything artificial crept up my stomach. Instead of stopping I decided to turn back and run back towards the tunnel. I was secretly hopping to find my -most likely- imaginary companion. I was going to tell him all I knew about the stars and the water, I was going to cry in his shoulder and laugh with his mishaps. I was going to be free...

Kwnstantinos

Take me out tonight
Where there's music and there's people
And they're young and alive
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I haven't got one
Anymore

Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people and I
Want to see life
Driving in your car
Oh, please don't drop me home
Because it's not my home, it's their
Home, and I'm welcome no more

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
And in the darkened underpass
I thought Oh God, my chance has come at last
(But then a strange fear gripped me and I
Just couldn't ask)

Take me out tonight
Oh, take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I haven't got one, da ...
Oh, I haven't got one

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

Oh, There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out

The Smiths-There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out

What does it all mean?

2008-06-19T01:34:00.004Z

How many times did we not find ourselves asking the same old question?

What does it all mean?

I, for one, have spent countless hours pondering on hordes of 'why', 'where', 'who', 'what' ''when' and 'how'. Questions that do not necessarily have a logical answer- some of them do not have an answer at all- but are fundamentally integral to our existence. It really does not mind if we are able to answer these questions, all that counts is that we are reaching into our lives and attempt to give a comprehensible explanation.

Some of these questions' answers lay in front of our eyes -all we have to do is decide to pay slightly more attention to our surroundings, to shift our focus from the petty to the substantial- most of these questions we have already answered, most likely in our dreams or in our childhood play.

Our troublesome minds need these questions in order to remain safe from the doses of sterilization that are ever so freely distributed by the means of mass deception managed by the mediocre and aimed at cultivating a gregarious/herd mentality that will hem us into consuming and will inevitably beget a cloak of darkness over humanity.

What the self important, distorted version of Christianity* 'achieved' in what is known now as the dark ages using fire, the stake and the inquisition, the modern day philistines bring upon us by offering us electronic lust, mind numbing task as the easiest -and in some cases the only- means of earning a livelihood, and bestowing kudos to those who can most easily personify the aforementioned -fake- version of human existence.

Stopping our daily routine for a moment to commune with and consult ourselves about our own 'what' , 'why', 'where','how', ''when' and 'who' is our last defence against those who want to herd our existence into mirroring their sales targets. It is not always easy to try, contrariwise, it becomes increasingly harder and demands evermore effort and deviation from the norms they set. I never was big on crowds anyway, so I think I will pass their offer. Thanks, but no thanks.

Kwnstantinos

*Presenting, of course, a completely degenerated version of the one true faith

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling- If

Are you sure?

2008-05-18T05:23:00.005Z

Life is full of these beautiful things called uncertainties. We are never sure where the road will take us. Whoever claims to know the secrets of tomorrow -even concerning his or her own life- is either living in an illusion or is simply ignorant. How can we expect -let alone desire- to have control over time or space? What kind of existence is this if we seek a life free from surprises or sudden changes? I certainly am no dare devil. I am a pragmatist though, and feel strong and secure enough to confess that deciding what to do next has little to do with calculating the risk involved or attempting to maximise the return.

Taking a shot in the dark is OK by me. Living a sterile life was never my intention or my dream. If I was to call it anything, I would call it my fear. And believe me, I have loads of these. Fears that have occasionally -thankfully for very very short periods of time- governed me in a total and devastating way. I of course managed to rid myself of their grip, only to discover in my horror that I have replaced them with other, new, and sometimes more persistent ones.

Living ones' life like that is difficult. Attempting to be free even from the things that please you the most (this is the worse kind, things that make you feel good. They make you docile and throw in a dormant state) comes at a cost. One has to pick their pleasures carefully, as to avoid becoming too attached to them, attempting at the same time to avoid becoming distant from their human nature. Because life without any pleasures -big or small, this is irrelevant- is not a life, right?

So, keeping the balance is essential as it can be fulfilling and painful. Pain is OK, sometimes it reminds you that you are still human, it keeps you in check with taking too many risks, it makes you feel alive. Pain from disappointment is one of the most rare to be experienced. It requires all that is mentioned earlier. Taking a shot in the dark, making your own choices, realizing they were the wrong ones and amassing the will and strength to get up in the morning and try again...

Kwnstantinos

In the far away fires
Where the hills forever burn
At the feet of our heroes
We try hard to learn
But the lesson is lost there
In the smoke and the mud
That we are one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood

I stood by the river
That ran red with shame
I stood in the killing fields
Where death had no name
I stood with my brothers
And away it flood
And we were one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood

Then I felt to the ground
Tasted ashes on my tongue
Thinking that only the dead
Are forever young

There was peace in the twilight
And for a moment among
It was a world without danger
A world without war
And I will take all your suffering
It will do any good
Cause we are one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood

One blood- Terence Jay

Tomorrow

2008-05-06T01:05:00.003Z

It took a few blows for the candles to even flicker. Even so, it was a remarkable feat. Who would have thought it was possible? He had appeared as if out of nowhere to join them all for -what people thought would have been- his tenth birthday.

Keeping in mind his frail nature and his young age he had done well. Being kept captive for just under two years seemed to have left him unaffected. As if he had never left, as if this all debacle was just a bad dream.

There he was. Smiling as always, polishing his plate of food like he had done since he was a toddler. This is what earned him the title 'unersättlich' (voracious in English).

Now everything could wait. There was no need to rush into action. No need for questions at this point. The first priority was for him to get some rest, eat to his heart's content and sleep. Sleep a lot.

Tomorrow we will start again. Perhaps he can touch his guitar again?

Maybe.

Tomorrow, not now!

Maybe...

Kwnstantinos

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

LEONARD COHEN - Suzanne

Sebastian Masawi (1979-2008)

2008-04-10T02:29:00.003Z

I only knew you for a little while. Seven months, to be precice. You were thhe quiet type. The worst kind, when it comes to seeking out others. We shared the same passion. Basketball was our way of life, our freedom and our dream. We spoke last week. You were so full of dreams, so full of life. You were 29 and I was 33, but both run, jump and sweat like there was no tomorrow. For you this became reality. They found you on your doorstep. Suicide, they say. Brutal and violent. Like you took revenge, like you were settling a score. You will be missed.

Kwnstantinos

P.S: Yianni, I broke my silence in your month. I had a serious reason. I want you to meet a friend. The best kind of friend. I managed to smuggle with him two grains of sand and a handfull of tears. See that you share!

A month wholly yours

2008-04-02T00:27:00.003Z

Kwnstantinos

Μάτια που γυαλίζουν στις γωνίες
Τρύπες από σύριγγες ηχούν
Στα στενά σοκάκια οι αγωνίες
σέρνονται και σ' ακολουθούν

Κατέβηκες στα στέκια του Περαία
Μέσα από δρομάκια σκοτεινά
Κοιμήθηκες αργά στην προκυμαία
Γιάννη πεσ' μου ποιός σε κυνηγά

Το πρωί καράβι για τη Θύρα
βρέθηκες στην Οία να μεθάς
με δυο Αγγλίδες κι άλλη μια Γαλλίδα
Γιάννη πεσ' μου αν τις αγαπάς

Κάποια μαύρη πήρες μεσ' το πλοίο
που ήρθε απ' το Μαρόκο να σε βρεί
έφτανε για να μην κάνει κρύο
κι αύριο ποιός ξέρει τι θα βγεί

Στήνεις μια κομπίνα στην Αθήνα
κάτι λέει με κάνναβη Ινδική
το 'γραψαν μάλιστα κι οι εφημερίδες
κι έτσι βρέθηκες στη φυλακή

Φτήνια μέσα κι ότι θέλεις
ότι η ψυχή τραβάει θα το βρείς
χρήμα να 'χεις μόνο να πληρώνεις
ή καρφί να γίνεις ή στηθείς

Πέσανε τα μέσα μ' ένα θείο
που ήξερε ανθρώπους ειδικούς
χάθηκε μισό ξενοδοχείο
και να 'σαι έξω, μέσα σε τρελούς

ʼκουσες να λεν για τη Βομβάη
σκέφτηκες να πας και προς τα 'κει
εκεί που οι τροβαδούροι λεν πεθαίνουν
πριν να ξημερώσει το πρωί

Είπαν πως οι μπάτσοι σε βουτήξαν
κι άλλοι πως γυρνάς στην Αφρική
Πέταξες ψηλά κι ας λεν σε ρίξαν
Γιάννη δε σε χωράει όλη η γη

Κιθάρες θα σου πρέπαν συνοδεία
σε μια μερσέντες πάνω ασημιά
ροκ ορχήστρα θα 'ναι η κομπανία
μόνο που δε θα 'σαι εκεί πια

Γιάννη σε θυμάμαι, δε στο κρύβω
μαζί με ζήλια ίσως και θυμό
κινήσαμε παρέα μα σε λίγο
έφυγες εσύ κι έμεινα εγώ

Μπαλάντα στο Γιάννη Κ. -Ανδρέας Τσιλιφώνης

The way it just is.

2008-03-20T01:54:00.003Z

If with the tongues of men and of messengers I speak, and have not love, I have become brass sounding, or a cymbal tinkling;
and if I have prophecy, and know all the secrets, and all the knowledge, and if I have all the faith, so as to remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing;
and if I give away to feed others all my goods, and if I give up my body that I may be burned, and have not love, I am profited nothing.
The love is long-suffering, it is kind, the love doth not envy, the love doth not vaunt itself, is not puffed up,
doth not act unseemly, doth not seek its own things, is not provoked, doth not impute evil,
rejoiceth not over the unrighteousness, and rejoiceth with the truth;
all things it beareth, all it believeth, all it hopeth, all it endureth.
The love doth never fail; and whether there be prophecies, they shall become useless; whether tongues, they shall cease; whether knowledge, it shall become useless;
for in part we know, and in part we prophecy;
and when that which is perfect may come, then that which is in part shall become useless.
When I was a babe, as a babe I was speaking, as a babe I was thinking, as a babe I was reasoning, and when I have become a man, I have made useless the things of the babe;
for we see now through a mirror obscurely, and then face to face; now I know in part, and then I shall fully know, as also I was known;
and now there doth remain faith, hope, love--these three; and the greatest of these is love.

Paul's 1st letter to the Corinthians (1-13)

Where to?

2008-03-15T01:03:00.002Z

It is kind of obvious really. People have no understanding of what is happening around them. They are oblivious to the ripples time draws on the canvas of their existence. Trying to go through their everyday lives as comfortable as possible, they concentrate on sex and alcohol. Little or no thought is given to what they really want to achieve. Where they really want to go. Plodding along the rivers of ignorance, are anything but sure of where they are to end up. and when they get there, they are quick to fall into depression. Life is too unfair, they cry. Life is too real to be left to chance, I say.

I like to get things going in a speedy fashion. I cannot really understand what is the fuss with fear. Not that I do not carry enough myself, it is just that I fear things that are unlikely to hurt me. Like death, for example. I know it is coming fast towards me, and I am terrified. Not of death as such. The fact that I know nothing about it is what makes me worry. I like to know that I am in charge, you see. And the feeling of helplessness never was my favourite.

Kwnstantinos

We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

"Wrong, Do it again!"
"If you don't eat yer meat, you can't have any pudding. How can you
have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat?"
"You! Yes, you behind the bikesheds, stand still laddy!"

Pink Floyd-Another Brick in the Wall Part 2

Is that you?

2008-03-11T01:18:00.005Z

I now remember where I have seen you. No matter how hard you wanted to hide it, it all now becomes clear.

I saw you in the darkest corners of my nightmares. You flew in to bring candlelight. Flickering and yet sufficient.

Hiding under a pair of satin bedsheets, bloodstained and yet odoriferous on a Monday morning.

I try to forget the pain I undertook having to pretend I never saw you. Fooling myself that you never walked the blue door of the corner house I used to rent in Albert road. Never really wanted a blue door. Not because these old coke heads sang on the contrary. I just did not like it. It seemed odd to have a door full of sky, where the roof over our house was a constant grey.

I now walk by the seaside and sing out loud again. I almost had forgotten how strong and young it makes me feel. How it liberates me. Just like your lips. Red and full of secrets, sweet and thorny. I mean, this is how I imagined them to be. Not that I lay any claim on them. After all I never touched them. Just dreamed of them. It always sufficed.

I miss travelling. Far, close, it really does not matter. Just like I used to. Go to college, go to the moon, it always was the same. The smooth rocking on the tracks kept me company while the hills rolled in front of my eyes taking sheep, houses and women away. And back again. It was nice. Felt kind of familiar, longing for the sight of other people's homes. Passing different times of the day and night made a difference. Sometimes i would imagine them preparing their dinner, other times making love, sometimes even making time. for one another. A long forgotten art. Forgotten but not from me. I am the master of making time. How long till I ride this train again? Is there still a station round here? Will the locomotive stop for me or am I too early?

Hey! You wanna come?

Kwnstantinos

Crest fallen sidekick in an old cafe
Never slept with a dream before he had to go away
There's a bell in the tower, Uncle Ray bought a round
Don't worry 'bout the army in the cold cold ground

Cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Cold cold ground

Now don't be a cry baby when there's wood in the shed
There's a bird in the chimney and a stone in my bed
When the road's washed out, we pass the bottle around
And wait in the arms of the cold cold ground

The cold cold ground
The cold cold ground
The cold cold ground

There's a ribbon in the willow and a tire swing rope
And a briar patch of berries takin' over the slope
The cat'll sleep in the mailbox and we'll never go to town
Till we bury every dream in the cold cold ground

In the cold cold ground
The cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground

Give me a Winchester rifle and a whole box of shells
Blow the roof off the goat barn, let it roll down the hill
The piano is firewood, Times Square is a dream
I find we'll lay down together in the cold cold ground

The cold cold ground
The cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground

Call the cops on the Breedloves, bring a Bible and a rope
And a whole box of Rebel and a bar of soap
Make a pile of trunk tires and burn 'em all down
Bring a dollar with you, baby, in the cold cold ground

In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground

Take a weathervane rooster, throw rocks at his head
Stop talking to the neighbors until we all go dead
Beware of my temper and the dog that I've found
Break all the windows in the cold cold ground

In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground
In the cold cold ground

Tom Waits- Cold Cold Ground

Thirst

2008-03-05T23:47:00.004Z

Life is an unnatural but marvellous thing. Unnatural because it spends vitality to get even closer to death, and marvellous because; once in a while; it defies it.

Walking is never good enough. After all, who wants to wait for anything?

Running is too expensive, and most often pointless. After all, where do we have to go that could not wait?

I decided to live. Momentarily, perhaps even featly. Tried quite a few times to overturn this decision, wittingly or not. I failed. I figured there must have been a reason. I am still looking for it...

Kwnstantinos

You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere

Anyplace is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
But me myself I got nothing to prove

You got a fast car
And I got a plan to get us out of here
I been working at the convenience store
Managed to save just a little bit of money
We won't have to drive too far
Just 'cross the border and into the city
You and I can both get jobs
And finally see what it means to be living

You see my old man's got a problem
He live with the bottle that's the way it is
He says his body's too old for working
I say his body's too young to look like his
My mama went off and left him
She wanted more from life than he could give
I said somebody's got to take care of him
So I quit school and that's what I did

You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so we can fly away
We gotta make a decision
We leave tonight or live and die this way

I remember we were driving driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
And we go cruising to entertain ourselves
You still ain't got a job
And I work in a market as a checkout girl
I know things will get better
You'll find work and I'll get promoted
We'll move out of the shelter
Buy a big house and live in the suburbs
You got a fast car
And I got a job that pays all our bills
You stay out drinking late at the bar
See more of your friends than you do of your kids
I'd always hoped for better
Thought maybe together you and me would find it
I got no plans I ain't going nowhere
So take your fast car and keep on driving

You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so you can fly away
You gotta make a decision
You leave tonight or live and die this way

Tracy Chapman-Fast Car

Ready?

2008-02-18T04:45:00.003Z

I have to give it to you. there is not many people around that would be able to move the way you do. I am sure it has something to do with your heritage, after all blood is still a strong variable, is it not? Despite all these wires they want to plug us into, it is good old fashioned blood that drives us. It is our boiling blood that makes us love, hate, kill and give birth.

It is through our bodies that we still experience the world, and if you ask me I would not change that for the world. After all, who am I to abandon the ancient family traditions?
this is how we always have been doing things in our family. I am, no doubt, not the last who will die of passion. I certainly do not want to be the first that will die of boredom, that's for sure.

A long line of dead lovers and dreamers stands outside my window. Some of them sing, others laugh and a few are standing in a dark corner contemplating death. They are my favorites. Not now, always. Like them, I want to live. Not to survive. you get me?

I never was big on thrills, more of a man of momentary inspirations, actually. Always wanted to do whatever came to me, never paying too much attention or respect to reason. I guess that makes me a fool, is this not what you are thinking? Well, my little sculpture of a woman, NO. this is what makes me, well. Me!

Are you going to approach me and offer me your touch tonight? I kind of miss you, my blood you see. It remembers...

Kwnstantinos

Did you hear the news about Edward?
On the back of his head he had another face
Was it a woman's face or a young girl?
They said to remove it would kill him
So poor Edward was doomed

The face could laugh and cry
It was his devil twin
And at night she spoke to him
Things heard only in hell
But they were impossible to separate
Chained together for life

Finally the bell tolled his doom
He took a suite of rooms
And hung himself and her from the balcony irons
Some still believe he was freed from her
But I knew her too well
I say she drove him to suicide
And took poor Edward to hell

Tom Waits - Poor Edward

Every night...

2008-02-06T01:30:00.000Z

After the thrill is gone- Jack Vettriano

Now what?

2008-02-04T01:03:00.000Z

It feels like it has been ages. In reality, it is only been a few brief moments. Moments I felt, smelled, saw and heard you. all in one, all at the same time. The colours were bright and frantic, your eyes made sure...

Spitting fire from mine, my heart is pounding like crazy. Elation and desire, all under the guise of correctness and dignity.

I have to find the way, I need to see where this takes me.

Kwnstantinos

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu.
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?

'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
--Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed' und leer das Meer.

Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,

The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.

Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying 'Stetson!
'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
'That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,
'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!
'You! hypocrite lecteur!--mon semblable,--mon frère!'

T.S Eliot-The Waste Land (part 1)

Vanity

2008-01-23T02:56:00.000Z

Could it happen to me? Was this just a momentary lapse, or a measure for things to come? For a moment you had me. Perhaps it was me who wanted to believe, partly because I thought I knew who you were. Bootless efforts in a field sowed with the sharp remains of soldiers.

I could not blame anyone, save myself. Illusions are what I do best, and constructing a world around them has long been my favourite past time. Tasting the salty water welling from my eyes was my only reward of this futile exercise. Stop haunting me, my demons are already starting to learn the new tricks your eyes planted in my mind.

Kwnstantinos

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hold
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My ssweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

Johny Cash- Hurt

Rememberance

2008-01-19T00:28:00.000Z

There was this weird feeling of excitement that came with the bleeding. Perhaps it was my body’s way to tell me not to be scared. I remember your face very well; it was like a thousand lightings shining through the air. I knew it was only a minute, but to me it then felt like a whole day of happiness. We were walking and hugging and talking, things I miss, I have to admit. Not that I do not do them anymore, it is just that they seem to be less intense. Too much of complication never harmed anyone, I say. Have you seen anything that scared you lately? Have you managed to get revenge? What about an orgasm? Come on, you never had troubles with that. At least this is what you made me think…

After all the fuss at the hospital, I remember having an unbearable craving for Greek sausages. I miss them, you see. I never seem to find any decent tasting sausages here. I remember walking back from the Lune and feeling my bones wet and weary. You just tucked me into bed and put Tom Waits on the CD player. ‘Did you hear the news about Edward…’

There was this kind of longing in my lips, the longing of the kind I had not felt for a while. It must be the weather, I thought to myself. After all, what else can it be? It has been years since I desired anyone. Let alone act upon my desire. It comes with the fear of death, I am pretty sure. I mean, why? On the other hand, why not?

Kwnstantinos

Poor Edward-Tom Waits

Resolutions

2008-01-03T00:40:00.000Z

There are millions of people who, every year around this time make all sorts of promises to themselves and to others. Some say they will try and improve their own lives, or the lives of those around them. Others swear that they will change the way they lead their lives, they will ameliorate their behaviour towards those they matter in their lives and strangers alike. There is, of course, others that make a somehow more 'human' pledge, set a less 'noble' goal. Be it to accumulate more wealth, improve on their deceiving techniques or, even, learn some new tricks.

Either way, people seize the opportunity the beginning of a new calendar year brings in order to motivate themselves into doing all these things they are too scared or too busy to attend to the rest of the year. I do not blame them. After all, who am I to judge that? What is wrong with a little motivation? Well, nothing at all. But why does it have to come only from outside? What happened to our own ability to motivate ourselves? Where did our childhood determination and ability to imagine go? Taken away, I suppose. Taken away from the very things we are now play catch up with.

Who has time for a smile when work is piling up? What is wrong with shouting to our loved ones if they just cannot get the point of leaving us alone to complete our daily tasks? Well, there is the whole world wrong with that. Perhaps we should take a closer look on our life. We might find that we have allowed our childhood dreams to be transmuted to our nightmares, if we enrobe our dreams of freedom with a fake attire of transitory, and often illusionary, sense of success.
For such is the nature of dreams, that are meant to set us free. Should they become the personification of our fears, they do it in such a way that we are hardly aware of the slow but confident change that takes place in our life.

Take a look at your own childhood dreams for example. Think of them as if you are an observer to your on thoughts then and now. Think of how happy you were when, aged seven, you successfully challenged another child on fencing using makeshift wooden swords. As you grew older, perhaps you did not think much of a wooden sword made from your grandma's olive tree (for which she was very fond and not too impressed when you 'had' to cut the straightest branch to make your sword), certainly not when you turned thirteen and there was lightsabers advertised on TV. Later you wanted the latest model of electronic gadgets, then a car, latter an even larger, quicker car. After that it was a boat, a chalet on the mountains, a sea retreat, and so on and so forth. But you never were able to smile the way you did that day you beat this other kid with your wooden sword. Ever. You know why? Because in between your trips on your flashy car to your £1.000.000 Swish chalet and your journeys on your boat to your tropical paradise, you forgot to enjoy the little things every day has to offer.

This is because we all are 'too busy' to take every day in as it comes and appreciate the unique opportunity given to us to cherish and celebrate each other's company. When a loved one dies, it is not the 'special' days on a £500 a night hotel we remember, it is this rainy night our second hand car broke in the middle of nowhere trying to get away with them for a few hours, just to say 'I love you' on a different part of town. It is this small heart-shaped pebble we were given by them on a secluded beach, not the 2 carat diamond.

I do not do resolutions. I try to do life...

Konstantinos

You know I Can't Smile Without You,
I Can't Smile Without You,
I can't laugh
and I can't sing,
I'm findin' it hard to do anything.
You see, I feel sad when you're sad,
I feel glad when you're glad,
If You only knew what I'm go ing through,
I just Can't Smile Without You.
You came along just like a song
and brightened my day,
Who'd've believe that you were part of a dream
Now it all seems light years away.
And now you know I Can't Smile WIthout You,
I Can't Smile Without You,
I can't laugh and I can't sing,
I'm finding it hard to do anything.
You see, I feel sad when you're sad,
I feel glad when you're glad,
If you only knew what I"m going through,
I just can't smile.
Now some people sa y happiness takes so very long to find.
Well I'm finding it hard leaving your love behind me.
And you see,
I Can't Smile Without You,
I Can't Smile Without You,
I can't laugh
and I can't sing,
I'm findin' it hard to do anything.
Y ou see, I feel sad when you're sad,
I feel glad when you're glad,
If You only knew what I'm going through,
I just Can't Smile Without You

Barry Manilow - Can't Smile Without You

Good things come. FULL STOP!

2007-12-03T04:34:00.000Z

Some say, good things come to those who wait. Others believe that good things happen to good people, and therefore bad things happen to bad people. In Psychology this is known as 'belief in a just world' developed by a psychologist called Lerner. Have a look at that:

Melvin J. Lerner, The Belief in a Just World: A Fundamental Delusion, (New York: Plenum Press, 1980).
Melvin J. Lerner and Sally C. Lerner, editors, The Justice Motivce in Social Behavior: Adapting to Times of Scarcity and Change, (New York: Plenum Press, 1981).
Zick Rubin and Letita Anne Peplau, "Who Believes in a Just World," Journal of SOcial Issues, Vol. 31, No. 3, 1975, pp. 65-89.

According to this theory, people have a strong desire or need to believe that the world is an orderly, predictable, and just place, where people get what they deserve. Such a belief plays an important function in our lives since in order to plan our lives or achieve our goals we need to assume that our actions will have predictable consequences. Moreover, when we encounter evidence suggesting that the world is not just, we quickly act to restore justice by helping the victim or we persuade ourselves that no injustice has occurred. We either lend assistance or we decide that the rape victim must have asked for it, the homeless person is simply lazy, the fallen star must be an adulterer. These attitudes are continually reinforced in the ubiquitous fairy tales, fables, comic books, cop shows and other morality tales of our culture, in which good is always rewarded and evil punished.

But what happens if we do not subscribe to the 'just world theory'? What if we feel that, despite all the goodness in a situation, the outcome is unjust and unjustified? What happens when, contrary to our understanding of moral code and behaviour, we feel we are hard done by?

In that case, there is a handful of things that can, and will, keep us sane and going. It is not the first time you read that from me, but hope in a better future, support from loved ones and perseverance (sometimes reaching the limits of downright stubbornness) DO make a difference when it comes to sailing through dire straights. Were we to have been deprived of one -or even worse, more- of the above, our task of maintaining ourselves and actually overcoming these difficulties -any kind of difficulties- becomes that much harder. No matter how strong you think you are, no matter how loved you feel, it is the combination of all these that will equip you to get through your troubles.

Being able to hang on though, is half the job. Managing yourself and your environment in a way that does not corrupt your mind and/or your soul during this ordeal is the other -and often hardest- half of the deal. Like in many others, in this trip, your Ithaca can prove itself to be something that you have not reckoned before you started or expected it to be while you were in your journey. Well, it might even NOT be the journey after all, either. Do not ask me, I do not know yours. I am just beginning to discover my own. I think so, anyway...

Kwnstantinos

As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you're seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

K.P Kavafis- Ithaka (October 1910)

On faith to God

2007-11-04T01:10:00.000Z

Faith in God is a very personal journey. Some of us are born in religious families; some of us come to experience religion later on in our lives. Either way, the path is similar for us all. Whether you consider yourself a ‘strong’ or ‘casual’ believer, whether you feel you know much about what it is you believe or you are just trying to make it out as you go along, there are always ‘hub’ moments. Maybe one, maybe plenty more. The truth is, these moments come and shake you from within. These are the moments where you might ask yourself if you are good enough, whether you have betrayed yourself by leading a life that is contrary to your religious beliefs, whether you are doing all you can to be a ‘good’ person, or even moments where you ask yourself if you are a fool believing in God at all.

These are the moments that you realize that there are no guarantees, no fallbacks, no insurance policies. You might have to battle against yourself, your family, your sense of rationality. And you are alone. This is the worst part. But it is a necessary part. Because if you do not find yourself alone, if you do not question yourself and your beliefs, if you are afraid to take a shot in the dark and hope, if you do not look for strength from within and just take everything for granted then you can never know. You can never know that this is what you want to do, what you want to believe. You can never feel that this is right. And this is ignorance. Sweet, trouble-free, but ignorance nevertheless.

I was in Lancaster on Good Saturday evening a few years ago; one of the very few occasions I spent Easter away from my family in Greece. I stayed in the UK not because I had too much work on my PhD, but because, being the coach and a player in the University basketball team, I wanted to be part of ‘Roses’ weekend. I was told by a friend there was this little community in Lancaster with a kind priest that I could go and celebrate Easter with. I did not want to. After a long spell back in my teens where I actually wanted to become a priest I had, for some reason, turned away from church in general. Not from believing, but from church. I chose to stay in my room, wait for the clock to show 12am so I can eat my fried chicken. I was fasting for the whole week, something I did since I was a child. For this is what I was raised to do. Next morning I felt bad I did not take up the invitation. I quickly forgot about my grief though. After all, I had a basketball game to win. And win I did!

I don’t really know what got to me, but a few weeks later I decided to visit this community. I was apprehensive before I entered this room in a Lancaster Grammar school. I was told that the community is mainly comprised by British people who converted to Orthodoxy. That was new to me. I was not used to people actually converting to my religion. I was accustomed to meet fellow countrymen that could no care less about God and anything spiritual. So I was not sure what to expect. I was greeted by warm hearted people, and I immediately felt at home. As if I was 15 again. The smell of incense, the candlelight, the sweet voice of the people singing, and of course the priest. All of a sudden it all made sense. I was happy! This was what I wanted. This was what I needed. This was what I believed in. This was who I really am!

I started attending church on a regular basis. Every Sunday I was there, and even more, my girlfriend at the moment, a German national started to follow me in my Sunday visits. After almost a year, she converted to Orthodoxy. I was surprised but thrilled. After all, it was her choice; I had nothing to do with her decision. On the contrary, I tried to persuade her to reconsider. I did not want her to make her decisions based on me. She did not. She wanted that and who was I to stop her? She now is my wife, and she seems to be walking her own path into our common faith. I just walk along her side. After all, it is a very personal journey, remember?

Kwnstantinos

One love, one heart

Let's get together and feel all right

Hear the children crying (One love)

Hear the children crying (One heart)

Sayin',Give thanks and praise to the Lord and I will feel all

right.

Sayin', Let's get together and feel all right.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa

Let them all pass all their dirty remarks (One love)

There is one question I'd really love to ask (One heart)

Is there a place for the hopeless sinner

Who has hurt all mankind just to save his own?

Believe me

One love, one heart

Let's get together and feel all right

As it was in the beginning (One love)

So shall it be in the end (One heart)

Alright,Give thanks and praise to the Lord and I will feel all

right.

Let's get together and feel all right.

One more thing

Let's get together to fight this Holy Armageddon (One love)

So when the Man comes there will be no, no doom (One song)

Have pity on those whose chances grow thinner

There ain't no hiding place from the Father of Creation

Sayin', One love, one heart

Let's get together and feel all right.

I'm pleading to mankind (One love)

Oh, Lord (One heart) Whoa.

Give thanks and praise to the Lord and I will feel all right.

Let's get together and feel all right.

One Love/People Get Ready- Bob Marley

In limbo

2007-10-11T02:25:00.000Z

Modern lives seem to revolve around a very specific kind of success. Nowadays being considered successful invariably entails that you have acquired significant (material) wealth (or are well into the process of doing so). Being seen as wealthy, independent, powerful and popular have become the absolute icons of everyday life. I was going to say of 'western life', but then I thought twice. Where in the past one would identify some traditional values like honour, respect for the elderly etc, greed for material goods and accumulation of wealth stand tall.

Falling into the trap of this chase for 'success' and 'happiness' simply takes away the most precious of human traits. We suddenly begin to compete with one another for the favour of our boss (so we will be the first to be considered for a promotion or for a larger Christmas bonus), for the latest wide screen-High Definition TV, the 'meanest', largest and most petrol thirsty; all terrain vehicle and other modern commodities that are, quite frankly, disproportionally small and temporal compared to what we have to give up instead.

We spend our lives stressing ourselves and those around us, pushing everyone to their limits so we can maximise material profit. We work in excess of ten hours a day in exchange for a larger sum of money that we either deposit in our bank accounts or we 'invest' in goods we rarely have time to appreciate (as we have little or no time at all t enjoy them, or we are simply too tired from our daily chores to stay awake). Some of us decide to turn their money into even more money, so we buy houses in order to rent (little do we see that we are simply piling on our commitments), put some of it in the stock market (we like to say to ourselves and to others that we are helping our national economy grow) What life is that then? Who are we trying to deceive?

I never have been an advocate of such a life style. And never will. Imprisoning myself into a golden cage does not in any way alleviate or alter the fact that I am confined and restricted. Whatever happened to working as hard as you need in order to maintain yourself and those around you to a comfortable standard? When did we start thinking that our life is measured, not against how much fun we are having, but against what our assets are worth? I make no excuses for my decision. Thank God I was blessed with a very special lady by my side. A human being that shares the same principles, has the same concerns, and dreams similar dreams with me. She too has decided to work to live, and not live to work.

I have been trying to find my place in the world of employment for a while. Most places I go make me feel I have a knot in my stomach. I enter depressing, ill lit offices occupied by -what looks like- people that once had similar dreams, fears, ideas and hopes with me. What happened to them? Did they have to succumb to their inevitable fate that wants them rats in life's race? Did they get insupportable mortgages? Did they acquire debts instead of wisdom? Whatever happened to them, I am not intending to let me catch it. I am thirty two and still like to think I have a choice.

To hell with 46" plasma TV's, tonight I will go for a walk by the sea...

Kwnstantinos

"There must be some way out of here" said the joker to the thief
"There's too much confusion", I can't get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.

"No reason to get excited", the thief he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late".

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.

Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.

All Along The Watchtower -Bob Dylan

On Freedom

2007-09-29T04:15:00.000Z

An immeasurable amount of blood as been spilled, ink trailed miles of paper, sweat traversed countless foreheads, tears -some of joy some of pain and fear- have welled from more eyes than there are stars. All for one thing. One simple word. Freedom.

Freedom from an oppressor, from fear, from disease, from pain, freedom from -almost- anyone and anything. The toughest struggle has always been for freedom from oneself. Freedom from what we, ourselves, created to hold us bound. Freedom of speech, freedom of passage, freedom of self-determination. Important obtentions of human kind that allow me to write these words and you to read them.

Freedom, in today's western society is -most often- just a word anymore. We enjoy it constantly (or so we are led to think), and that makes us take it for granted. To such an extend, that we almost treat it as a commodity. Something we can trade in order to reap fruits of some other tree. Not many seem to mind giving some away, if it is 'for the greater good'. All you have to do is look around you. Look at the state of fear that muffles our every day lately. We are told that we have to give up some of our freedom in exchange for some security. Security from what? Most often, the enemy is undetermined, an undefinable and ghastly scarecrow only seen by those who are 'here to protect us' (and scare us, one could add).

'It is all right if we allow others (governments, multinationals, and 'civilian contractors') to track our movements (store cards, biometric passports and air miles are excellent ways). After all, we have nothing to hide' that is what some say. Others believe whatever their TV spits out to them. They ingurgitate it with lust and then they ask for more.

To be free, is to be able to question, to be able to think and to be able to dream. This is real freedom, if you ask me, and the only kind of freedom that can exist. All other kinds of freedom is temporary and heavily depended on others. An expensive ephemera we pay time and again. Freedom of thought is the only freedom nobody can touch. It is precious because it can see us through even the most adverse of circumstances, no authority (righteous or otherwise) can direct it, can go undetected even under the closest and fiercest of scrutinies, and it never, ever fades.

All other kinds of freedom are born out of this one. If freedom in general was a living organism, freedom of thought would most definitely be it's stem cell. The father of its creation, the nurturing mother, the driving force of it all.

Freedom of thought cannot be taken away, it is impossible. It dies with us. along with our hopes. they are a kind of freedom themselves. The freedom to believe that things can end up better than they are now...

Kwnstantinos

There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me

Hey now, hey now
Don't dream it's over
Hey now, hey now
When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us
We know they won't win

Now I'm towing my car, there's a hole in the roof
My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proof
In the paper today tales of war and of waste
But you turn right over to the T.V. page

Now I'm walking again to the beat of a drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart
Only shadows ahead barely clearing the roof
Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief

Hey now, hey now
Don't dream it's over
Hey now, hey now
When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us
Don't ever let them win

Don't Dream It's Over
Artist(Band):Crowded House

Past. Perfect or continuous?

2007-09-02T02:04:00.000Z

Our scars are there to remind us that our past really happened. I cannot remember where I read/heard this, but it changed a lot in the way I view my own history. When we are in the thick of it, when the pain and the agony are too real to ignore, when the tears are still hot on our cheeks, it sounds cynical and inappropriate to talk about our (traumatic and/or unpleasant) experience that is unfolding. All we are thinking of is a way to improve our situation, a way to escape the pain and find a way to return to normality. And rightly so. There is nothing censurable on that.

The truth is though, that at the end of our life, when these moments of our suffering are distant (unpleasant) memories, we realize that we were alive. Full of resolve, determined and hurt, but not beaten. We are here, which means we pulled through. For all their worth, our numerous misfortunes have made us wiser, stronger and -hopefully- helped us put things into perspective. We were able We retrospectively look at these situations of years gone by and a smile breaks on our face. We remember the pain, we even might still feel the effects of that situation. But we are here and we are now, our past -no matter how terrible- has no authority over our present whatsoever.

Like when you remember how you ruined your knees when you fell off your bike trying to take off from a makeshift ramp you placed ate the end of a very steep hill with your best friend when you were 12, and looking on your bare legs you can still see the scars. They are there, painfull reminders that it took you two months to walk pain-free (and another two for your mother to be convinced you 'learned your lesson and give your bike back to you'), but also reminding you how, when you amassed the courage to ride your bike and attempt the same insanity again (as if there was a chance you would not do so) your heart was pumping like it was going to pop out of your chest. Full of fear, excitement and youthful optimism. Not to mention the exaltation when you finally made it. The attention of the girls, the admiration of the rest of the boys. You dared and you achieved.

There is no shame in accepting your scars as part of who you are. The shame lies in being scarred but yet none the wiser.

Kwnstantinos

The boy with the thorn in his sideBehind the hatred there liesA murderous desire for loveHow can they look into my eyesAnd still they don't believe me ?How can they hear me say those wordsStill they don't believe me ?And if they don't believe me nowWill they ever believe me ?And if they don't believe me nowWill they ever, they ever, believe me ?Oh ...
The boy with the thorn in his sideBehind the hatred there liesA plundering desire for loveHow can they see the Love in our eyesAnd still they don't believe us ?And after all this timeThey don't want to believe usAnd if they don't believe us nowWill they ever believe us ?And when you want to LiveHow do you start ?Where do you go ?Who do you need to know ?
Oh ...Oh no ...
Oh ...La ...

The Smiths -The Boy With a Thorn in His Side

Home

2007-08-15T02:47:00.000Z

...is where the heart is. I, for one, had to adhere to the truth of that proposition. I just had to. Amazingly, in the last twelve years I have not stayed in the same house for longer than twelve months, and in the same city longer than two years.

While this is a difficult business for both my social and my professional life (let alone my sanity), it also is a blessing in disguise. Being on the road so often gave me the opportunity to see many places, come in contact with interesting and versatile people, I was able to permanently store in my mind images of happiness, love and care with those I love in different backgrounds, accompanied by different sounds, smells, touches. Whenever I see on the news, hear on the radio or in conversations about any of these places I feel a part of me is still there, I get the impression the subject is close to heart.

Having lived in many countries, and being a villager and a city slicker I feel like life destined me to be a human chameleon, forced by need and by its environment to adjust in orderer to survive, to thrive and to live to see another day. My life has been blessed by all this. I would not give it a moment's though to do it all again. I know I most probably continue my wandering of towns, cities and villages, adding to the excitement the question 'where to, next?' brings. The answer is simple. I am going home. After all, there is no place like home...

Kwnstantinos

I am the passenger and I ride and I ride
I ride through the city's backsides
I see the stars come out of the sky
Yeah, the bright and hollow sky
You know it looks so good tonight

I am the passenger
I stay under glass
I look through my window so bright
I see the stars come out tonight
I see the bright and hollow sky
Over the city's ripped backsides
And everything looks good tonight
Singing la la la la la.. lala la la, la la la la.. lala la la etc

Get into the car
We'll be the passenger
We'll ride through the city tonight
We'll see the city's ripped backsides
We'll see the bright and hollow sky
We'll see the stars that shine so bright
Stars made for us tonight

Oh, the passenger
How, how he rides
Oh, the passenger
He rides and he rides
He looks through his window
What does he see?
He sees the sign and hollow sky
He sees the stars come out tonight
He sees the city's ripped backsides
He sees the winding ocean drive
And everything was made for you and me
All of it was made for you and me
'Cause it just belongs to you and me
So let's take a ride and see what's mine
Singing la la la la.. lala la la [x3]

Oh the passenger
He rides and he rides
He sees things from under glass
He looks through his window side
He sees the things that he knows are his
He sees the bright and hollow sky
He sees the city sleep at night
He sees the stars are out tonight
And all of it is yours and mine
And all of it is yours and mine
So let's ride and ride and ride and ride
Oh, oh, Singing la la la la lalalala

Iggy Pop - The Passenger

Why?

2007-07-20T06:38:00.000Z

Everything happens for the best. This is what someone very close to me keeps saying. No matter what goes on, whatever form or shape the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune take, we are bound to come out on the other side of things better off. Her theory works. For her at least. It gives her strength, it gives her optimism.

But I have a slightly different take on this. Everything happens for a reason. This is what I say. For me it is not of paramount importance to think/know/hope that at the end of a scrape I will emerge in a better fate than I was before it all started. What I do hope for, though, is a logical explanation for things. Why did they turn out to be like this and not like that? In other words, knowing that, whatever happens, happens because it was necessary for it to take place, puts my mind to rest. It explains itself to me. To some this might sound not good enough, but the truth is it works for me. With a crucial detail still to come.

Everything happens for a reason. For me, it is even less important to know what this reason of most things is. No. I am lying. There actually is one category of things I consider important to know their reason d'etre , or at least used to consider important. I used to feel I actually needed to know the reason why people do whatever it is they do. Why do they say the things they do, behave the way the do, make specific choices etc. In retrospect, I now realize that I demanded from myself to do the impossible. But at the time it seemed a perfectly logical and natural thing to do. In fact, being able to understand the reasons behind other people's actions, decisions and stance is an illusion, it is beyond human contrivance.

Coming in terms with this was not easy. It comes in contradiction to your mind's efforts to make sense of the world around you and, effectively, keep you sane. But it is a rather vicious circle. The more often you realise you are incapable of reaching a logical conclusion for someone else's actions, the harder you try, simply because you feel threatened by ignorance. The sooner one realizes that, rather than ignorance it is a great wisdom to understand -and accept, for that matter- that; whatever people do, whatever people say or whatever path people decide to take; they do so for their own reasons. This is one of the precious pieces of knowledge I was taught by people I encountered in my life.

I feel embarrassed to admit it, but I have not got the slightest idea who it was that taught me this. I have a vague recollection of the place I was, the general conversation that framed this revelation took place, I even remember what I was drinking: freshly squeezed cranberry juice -my favourite for a long period of time in the past- but i have not got the slightest idea who it was that said this sentence that changed my life -for the better- from that moment onwards. I cannot remember if it was a friend or a stranger, a male or a female, I remember nothing apart from this: People do things for their own reasons. Who knows. After all, I might have my own reasons. I just do not remember them right now...

Kwnstantinos

They brought me a beautiful basket of fruit
And two finger bowls of glass
The couch is gold with a floral design
And the wine is Germany's best
And the wine is Germany's best

My thoughts drift ino the frozen night
Frankfurt is covered with snow
And numbly they ride on an icy wind
To places they're longing to go
To places they're longing to go

I remember the tall dark Irish rose
Who held me in my limousine
And slept with me under a burgundy quilt
With sheets of silk in between
Well, anyway, that's how it seemed

I thought I wanted to marry him
His face was sculpted by God
His words were gentle and ever so true
And soft as the Irish fog
And lost in the Irish fog

I remember the boy from the monastery
Who wanted to be a monk
But he brought flowers and wine to my room
And we both got happily drunk
And we both got perfectly drunk

He laughed like the chimes of a silver bell
His eyes were alexandrite blue
He danced the t'ai chi with the grace of a deer
And I wanted to marry him too
Yes I wanted to marry him too

There was that son of a dog from the Tennessee hills
Kept telling me I was still young
He spoke in pure southern and smoothed out the lines
Round my eyes saying I was the one
Forever that I'd be the one

He drank and he cussed and he wrote his own songs
He was very much on the go
We followed each other for over a year
I couldn't have married him though
So we just lived in sin on the road

There was that black eyed beauty from Boston town
Two days were never too long
He stood by the mirror and picked out a rose
But I already wrote him a song
Yes, I already wrote him a song

So here I sit with my basket of fruit
And two finger bowls of glass
I finished my bottle of Germany's best
And concluded my thoughts on the past
That love is a pain in the ass

Joan Baez: Love Song To A Stranger Part II

on stress

2007-07-08T23:53:00.001Z

It is a killer, they say. It sure can be. My grandmother taught me as a child that in every month, the days that we are stress free- and therefore happy, dare I say- are counted in the fingers of my right hand. I always thought she was being slightly pessimistic, making such a statement. Coming from her, it made this observation even harder to believe. My granny always spoke in an upbeat tone. I called her today and asked her again about this statement she made over twenty years ago. I could only feel her smile speaking on the phone. She realized I now understood...

Kwnstantinos

Take me out tonight
Where theres music and theres people
And theyre young and alive
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I havent got one
Anymore

Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people and i
Want to see life
Driving in your car
Oh, please dont drop me home
Because its not my home, its their
Home, and Im welcome no more

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I dont care
I dont care, I dont care
And in the darkened underpass
I thought oh god, my chance has come at last
(but then a strange fear gripped me and i
Just couldnt ask)

Take me out tonight
Oh, take me anywhere, I dont care
I dont care, I dont care
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I havent got one, da ...
Oh, I havent got one

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

Oh, there is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out
Artist(Band): The Smiths

On water

2007-06-25T06:30:00.000Z

I love the water, in any form it takes. I feel drawn to it. Be it a sea, a stream, a river or a lake, I always feel at home when I am in, on, or close to water. It has a soothing and calming effect on me, it refreshes and replenishes me. It clears my mind and it gives me hope. Quite often, when there is a strong rain or even a storm out there, I would put my anorak on and set for a walk. Other times I might go for a drive. Listening to my favourite music, walking or driving in the rain is one of the very precious joys I have discovered in life. Every single time after a drive or -especially- a walk I return home cleansed from the inside, and most often hungry. This is another effect water in general has on me. It makes me really, really hungry.

Perhaps it is the sound, texture, or the very nature of water that relaxes and replenishes me. After all, we humans are made primarily of water (55%-75% of our body is water) so it makes sense to feel comfortable in its presence. looking back to how our life starts, we will find that even in the womb of our mother we are surrounded, cleansed and protected by water. For most of us, our first shock in life comes when we make the leap from the wet, warm environment of the womb we enter the dry, cooler room of the delivery theatre in a maternity ward.

Water covers 2/3 of the planet's surface, so inevitably we are in frequent contact with a body of water wherever we are. Al major religions have water in the centre of their philosophy. Be it as means of spiritual cleansing, worshipped as divine or simply as an essential part of a ritual, water is present in almost every spiritual activity. In ancient Greek mythology, it was Acherusia that the souls had to cross in order to get to the underworld, in India Ganges is a major deity (as there are many other water bodies around the world in antiquity and now) , baptisms and holy water are in the centre of Christianity.

Water is essential to our survival. Perhaps this is good enough reason why water is everywhere in our poetry, in our songs, our religion and is essential not only for our physical being, but it also central to our emotional existence. After all, there are times where a tear-drop can be enough to change our life...

Kwnstantinos

When you're weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them all

I'm on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

When you're down and out
When you're on the street
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you

I'll take your part
When darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Sail on Silver Girl,
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way

See how they shine
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind

Bridge Over Troubled Water- Simon And Garfunkel

On happiness

2007-06-19T07:28:00.000Z

People nowadays have access to an awful lot of stimuli, and naturally such a lifestyle mildens the sharpness of their senses. We all are expecting the big surprise; the significant event that will change our lives; this substantial amount of change in our lives that will signify a turn for the better. Because such events are not that common though, we tend to sink into an ever decreasing sense of contentedness, often mistaking gratification and indulgence for happiness.

As gratification, indulgence and transitory satisfaction are inequable to happiness (since they are, largely ephemeral) we are left with an unquenched thirst for more, a desire for a larger dose of transient pleasure.On the other hand, true happiness is both long lasting and significantly substantial/essential. even more important, happiness most often comes when we least expect it. It is not something that one can have to order, or work themselves up in preparation for.

I ask myself many times what makes me truly happy. Is it a single thing? Could it be a person? A memory perhaps? An activity maybe? Trying to pin point the source (or sources, even) of my happiness though is not really a task that does justice in the multiplicity and complexity in anyone's life. 'Well done for discovering fire', I hear you cry. Well, notwithstanding the fact that I am not saying anything new here, the point I am trying to make is of a different nature.

Exactly because it is not a single thing in our life that deserves sole credit for our good spirits we need to be reminded that it is the small things that make the bigger differences. Like having someone saying 'good morning' to you on your way to work, or a stranger smiling to you while you wait at the traffic lights. Perhaps seeing a child play happily with their parents, an unexpected gift, a very happy return of a beloved person, finding a £5 note in an old pair of trousers, having someone appreciate your hard work, realizing all of a sudden that things are not as bad as you feared.

It can be anything. Big or small, lasting a brief moment or a life time,a sudden event or a long overdue reward, it is our daily life that provides us with the strength to keep going. The will to get out of bed in the morning, the energy to try that bit harder, the conviction that things will turn out all right after all. Happiness is not something complicated, simply because it can be found everywhere. All it takes is a keen eye and an attitude that seeks the positive aspects in every situation. Sometimes it pays to stop and look around us. It is us, with our quick daily pace and our extra speedy attitude to living that prevent ourselves from appreciating the small details that make the big difference in our lives...

Kwnstantinos

One Love!
One Heart!
Let's get together and feel all right.
Hear the children cryin'
(One Love!);
Hear the children cryin'
(One Heart!),
Sayin': give thanks and praise
to the Lord and I will feel all right;
Sayin': let's get together
and feel all right.
Wo wo-wo wo-wo!

Let them all pass all their dirty
remarks (One Love!);
There is one question
I'd really love to ask (One Heart!):
Is there a place for the hopeless sinner,
Who has hurt all mankind just
to save his own beliefs?

One Love! What about the one heart?
One Heart!
What about?
Let's get together and feel all right
As it was in the beginning
(One Love!);
So shall it be in the end
(One Heart!),
All right!
Give thanks and praise to the Lord
and I will feel all right;
Let's get together
and feel all right.
One more thing!

Let's get together to fight
this Holy Armagiddyon (One Love!),
So when the Man comes there will be no,
no doom (One Song!).
Have pity on those whose
chances grows t'inner;
There ain't no hiding place
from the Father of Creation.

Sayin': One Love!
What about the One Heart?
(One Heart!)
What about the?
Let's get together and feel all right.
I'm pleadin' to mankind!
(One Love!);
Oh, Lord!
(One Heart)
Wo-ooh!

Give thanks and praise to the Lord
and I will feel all right;
Let's get together and feel all right.
Give thanks and praise to the Lord
and I will feel all right;
Let's get together and feel all right.

Bob Marley - One Love

On people

2007-06-14T06:35:00.000Z

There are three types of people in life. Those who are generally competent and they know it, those who are competent but for one reason or the other they choose to think or convince others that they are not competent enough, and there is those who are incompetent but either have no idea of their incompetency or do everything possible to ignore it and disguise it from everyone else.

All three types of people have positive and negative attributes attached to their stance/situation in life. In Psychology there is Attribution Theory that attempts to help us understand how people explain the world around them and a good explanation of that theory can be found here .

Those who are good and they know it for example are great leaders (in a variety of levels) and eternal optimists, simply because they feel they are in control of their destiny. To them, every achievement or failure has a reason and the reason is their self, and only that. They have internal locus of control, and they believe they are the masters of their own destiny. On a less positive note, people who belong to this category are generally considered as 'snobs', arrogant and sometimes antisocial, as a result of their overwhelming belief in themselves and their influence on things.

People who are competent but choose to think or project they are not competent enough are usually hard workers who simply set themselves ever increasing standards to the extent that they sometimes are unable to satisfy the criteria they set for themselves. In extreme cases, they set their standards too high volitionally so they are sure they will not be able to satisfy them. Whether they do so out of modesty, insecurity or even fear of success differs from person to person. On the negative side, these people can, and often do, hinder their own progress in life because they understate themselves in the light of less worthy competitors.

Finally, people who are incompetent but either have no idea of their incompetency or do everything possible to ignore it and convince us all that they are actually competent have the positive factor of ignorance. Ignorance is Bliss, Ignorance ist eine Gnade, Η άγνοια είναι ευλογία, say it as you like, the truth remains that sometimes, having no idea of your own inefficiency or inadequacy is a huge benefit for your mental sanity. Of course there is the other side of the story, the fact that, being the only person who does not see they are not fit for purpose, they become upstart checkers in the hands of Time, moving from failure to failure not knowing, or not wanting to recognize the true reasons behind their misfortunes. Knowing one's self (see here and here) is generally thought as having a central importance in Western Civilization, but I believe that, in some rare occasions in our lives, it can be both therapeutic and beneficial. After all, who are we to say, right?

Kwnstantinos

It's only been an hour
Since he locked her in the tower
The time has come
He must be undone
By the morning

Many times before
The tyrant's opened up the door
Then someone cries
Still we close our eyes
Not again

Meet me when the sun is in the Western skies
The fighting must begin before another someone dies
Crossbows in the fire light
Green sleeves waving
Madmen raving
Through the shattered night

Flames are getting higher
Make it leap unto the spire
Draw bridge down
Cut it to the ground
We shall dance around the fire

No more night
We have seen the light
Let it shine on bright
Hang him higher

Rainbow- Sixteenth Century Greensleeves

On pain

2007-06-07T07:00:00.000Z

Pain is good. Yes it is. In moderation, of course, but pain is a part of life I am thankful for. Many people will say that pain is good because it makes them feel alive. Others would argue that pain is good because it reminds them that life does not consist of straight lines and calm seas, but indeed is mostly made of steep grades and turbulent waters.

My take on the issue is slightly different from the above. Pain for me is good because it is inhere in every deed worth trying for. Actually, is much more than that. Rather than being a part of every good effort in life, it sometimes becomes part of the reward. I am not, of course, referring to pain itself as being a source of pleasure. No. To this day I am yet to join the ranks of Masochism despite what some people might say about me and my views on certain issue. Just read my previous post.

Here I am actually referring to the fact that I personally enjoy earning everything I receive. And there is no easy way when it comes to earning anything. Of course I have not personally earned every little thing in my life. My parents were and still are very supportive, I am blessed with having a very understanding and giving lady in my life, and friends that would do everything within their powers to help me out. What I make reference to here is the fact that I take immense pleasure in knowing that hard graft has played a central role for who I am, for where I am and what I have achieved so far.

We all often see people who want to get something for nothing. People who expect maximum profit for minimum effort. People who, like hyenas, vultures, bankers, lawyers and other nefarious creatures prey and infest nature with their life philosophy of 'take all, give nothing'. People who behave like they have a hereditary and matter-of -course right to be the recipients of all good things but take it for granted that they owe nothing to nobody.

There is no pleasure in that as far as I am concerned. Being a spiv and a parasite might offer the 'benefit' of maximizing profit with minimum effort but is not going to do anything for anyone's psyche . This is exactly where pain, as part of an effort, comes to remind us that we have to try, we have to fight and we have to earn everything that is worth earning. And what better reward, after a hard and painful struggle to taste the fruits of your pains. It makes success taste that much better...

Kwnstantinos

Now look at them yo-yo's that's the way you do it
You play the guitar on the MTV
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Money for nothin' and chicks for free
Now that ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Lemme tell ya them guys ain't dumb
Maybe get a blister on your little finger
Maybe get a blister on your thumb

We gotta install microwave ovens
Custom kitchen deliveries
We gotta move these refrigerators
We gotta move these colour TV's

See the little faggot with the earring and the makeup
Yeah buddy that's his own hair
That little faggot got his own jet airplane
That little faggot he's a millionaire

We gotta install microwave ovesns
Custom kitchens deliveries
We gotta move these refrigerators
We gotta move these colour TV's

I shoulda learned to play the guitar
I shoulda learned to play them drums
Look at that mama, she got it stickin' in the camera
Man we could have some fun
And he's up there, what's that? Hawaiian noises?
Bangin' on the bongoes like a chimpanzee
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Get your money for nothin' get your chicks for free

We gotta install microwave ovens
Custom kitchen deliveries
We gotta move these refrigerators
We gotta move these colour TV's, Lord

Now that ain't workin' that's the way you do it
You play the guitar on the MTV
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Money for nothin' and your chicks for free
Money for nothin' and chicks for free


Dire Straights- Money for Nothing

Perseverence and surrender

2007-06-05T07:03:00.000Z

Never give in, never give up. This is what I have always lived by. This is one of the things that define me, an avid pursuit of all available possibilities, a gutsy desire for fight to the end. Giving up never was an option for me, and -I hope- will never be. Persevering in the face of fierce opposition or -seemingly- insuperable obstacles is my forte. One could say I thrive in environments where I have to surmount difficulties in situations where most others would consider desperate or even with their corollary negatively predetermined.

What other choice have we got, I say? In what respect are we going to improve our situation should we accept defeat where there is even a slim chance? How can we live with ourselves in the knowledge that we could have done more to help ourselves? If we do not try, who will in our behalf? "Save your energy", some might say. "You cannot avoid the inevitable", say others.

They might be right, who knows. But I would very much rather try and improve my standing and eventually fail. I cannot allow myself to embrace the shameful hordes of recreants and turncoats that defile the history of humankind. Not me, not without a fight. I see a value in everything I do everyday. No matter how small or insignificant, I try and ascribe meaning to all my actions. Doing so helps me see the point of actually engaging myself with anything at all.

So be it a desperate last stance in a battle that is almost certainly lost or a repeated effort to change things for the best -for me or for someone else- there is always a point in trying. There is more joy for me to fail after I am convinced I did all I could in order to succeed than salvage my pride and subsequently be pursued by Erinyes in every waking hour of my life. The Hubris of letting my beliefs and my ideals down is swiftly followed by the Nemesis of suffering a life being a stranger to myself. Thanks, but no thanks.

Kwnstantinos

See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you

Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you

With or without you
With or without you

Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away

My hands are tied
My body bruised, she's got me with
Nothing to win and
Nothing left to lose

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you
With or without you

U2- with or Without you

On truth

2007-06-01T23:58:00.000Z

Sometimes there is no other way. We have to protect ourselves and our way of life. When enough is enough we ought to stand up for what we believe. We MUST not keel. We cannot allow ourselves to slip into slow decay and bathos. It took a hell of a lot to get here and retrogradation is not an option. When our patience is mistaken for infirmity of purpose is time to stand tall.

Ende Finito!

Kwnstantinos

Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it
You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Like a Rolling Stone
Artist(Band):Bob Dylan

On Friends

2007-05-30T06:18:00.000Z

I am a very persistent person. I fight and I insist, I push and I pull until I make my point clear. I always try to keep my friends informed of my opinion on things, even when I know or fear that this could lead to me losing them. Unfortunately this has been the case in a few occasions. I miss those people terribly. I really do. But there are no regrets. No looking back, no second thoughts. I did what I had to do. I stood tall and true in front of them and their fears, egos and insecurities.

I did this because I truly loved them- and still do- and that was my only choice. There was no other way, I could not allow myself to become just one more of the people in their lives that surrounded them with pretence, lies and complacency. This is what made stood apart from these Pharisees, these Philistines, these vultures.

This is how i like my friends to be with me in return. I would feel rage, pain and betrayed should I wake up one morning only to find out that the people that really matter to me were only telling me what 'I wanted or needed to hear', reducing themselves to mannequins, lifeless and unmeaning sorry excuses of beings.

I want to know that people who I allow close to me are people of kindness and valour alike, people I can trust to wake me up and shake me, people who are not scared to smash my glass castle to pieces when they see me go off my head. I want to know I am not alone. I need to know I am truly there for them and they are there for me. I want to live with them, I want them to smile to me after the rain..

Kwnstantinos

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
Ive stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
Ive walked and Ive crawled on six crooked highways,
Ive stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
Ive been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
Ive been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, and its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin,
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin,
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin,
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin,
Heard ten thousand whisperin and nobody listenin,
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin,
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.

Oh, whatll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, whatll you do now, my darling young one?
Im a-goin back out fore the rain starts a-fallin,
Ill walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioners face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number,
And Ill tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
Then Ill stand on the ocean until I start sinkin,
But Ill know my song well before I start singin,
And its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.

A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
Artist(Band):Bob Dylan

This is more than enough

2007-05-24T02:26:00.000Z

Or is it? There are certain moments where we decide we have had enough of something or someone. Where we feel physically sick of our daily encounters with people and circumstances, where we wish there was an easy way out, a magic wand that would, with a flick, spirit away all things that give us trouble and grief. If only it was that easy. If only we could wave our magic wand and fix everything than needs fixing. How nice would it be if we could erase from our minds all the painful memories of the past, the thoughts of the present, or the fears of the future.

It was my 32nd birthday the other day. It has always been a paradoxically doleful day. Ever since I remember myself it has always been so. A sober day of thoughts and remorse, a day of guilt and pain. It has also, naturally, been a day of hugs and kisses, of smiles and love. There have always been reasons for such antinomy, and they mainly have to do with my own peculiar way of viewing myself and my environment.

This way of living meant pain. Sometimes sweet and redeeming, often unbearable and troublesome. I was in dear need for a way out of this, an act or event that would lead me to Devine disillusionment. When my lady entered my life and prepared a wonderful birthday celebration for me in 1998 I got a glimpse of how fragile my glass castle really was, how erring was my take in life in general, and on my birthday in particular. Life IS, after all, beautiful, and most importantly, it is what we make of it. It is up to us to decide if we want to spend every waking hour of our day and night contemplating defeat or if we want to pencil our victory plans of days to come.

This year on my birthday I learned that my dad suffers from prostate cancer. He is 63 and of fragile health. Being a diabetic for the last 15 years and with an increasing number of other medical conditions, this latest addition to his collection of life threatening diseases seems to be the one that finally broke his glass castle of delusive feeling of safety.

There is no magic wand, no spell or magic potion that will make any of this go away. There is no turning back, and no stopping of time. There is only us. Our beliefs, our hopes and our fears. There is our love and our hate, our decisions and our mistakes. Our prayers and our curses. We chose to fight. We choose to flee. We might fall. We might rise. There is only us.

Kwnstantinos

My hero bares his nerves along my wrist
That rules from wrist to shoulder,
Unpacks the head that, like a sleepy ghost,
Leans on my mortal ruler,
The proud spine spurning turn and twist.

And these poor nerves so wired to the skull
Ache on the lovelorn paper
I hug to love with my unruly scrawl
That utters all love hunger
And tells the page the empty ill.

My hero bares my side and sees his heart
Tread, like a naked Venus,
The beach of flesh, and wind her bloodred plait;
Stripping my loin of promise,
He promises a secret heat.

He holds the wire from the box of nerves
Praising the mortal error
Of birth and death, the two sad knaves of thieves,
And the hunger's emperor;
He pulls the chain, the cistern moves.

My Hero Bares His Nerves
by Dylan Thomas

On hope

2007-05-17T06:19:00.000Z

Many people give me the impression I am doing something wrong when I tell them I do not worry too much about the way things will turn out. They seem to think I have developed an apathetic stance in life. Well, they just could not be more wrong. Rather than being a nonchalant person, I see myself as a positivist (well, at least most of the time) and a man of action. What is the point, I think to myself, to fribble around with worrying? After all, by worrying I achieve nothing, really. Procrastination is the enemy of action, and I am of the conviction that when something is wrong we ought to try and fix it, rather than cry over spilt milk.

Not everything can be fixed, or at least cannot be fixed by us directly, or at the particular spot in time, you might think. You are right. Absolutely dead on. Most things though have elements within or around them that, should we manage to alter, we can improve our situation, or the situation of others, dramatically. Sometimes a small change makes a big difference, and this is certainly true in my experience so far.

Be it a relationship matter, a professional issue or a financial affair, there have always been small things I could do to improve my standing. Covering under the duvet and hoping it will all -as if by magic- go away has never done any positive difference to any person's life. Well, at least not anyone I know. Apart from blunting one's feelings towards their dire situation, perhaps.

Often this shying away from the problem though is part of a long process. Some of us might need to feel they are on the brick of ruin in order to be shocked into action. Others perhaps use this 'grieving' period of inaction in order to gather their strength and bounce back. Whatever the case, some sort of ameliorative action is always possible and advisable. If anything, trying to do something is guaranteed to increase our feeling of being in control -partial it may be, but still in control- and, even more important, take our mind away from the glumness of the whole affair.

Not to mention the positive effects exposure to other people might have. Problem shared is a problem solved, they say. Often it is through socialization that we manage to find solutions for the things that are nagging our minds. Perhaps we open up and someone else has been to this place before us -therefore has a tested action plan to suggest- or simply are able to provide us with a suggestion, since things look different from where they are standing. If all else fails, there is always the feeling of relief that we have shared our troubles with someone who wants to listen to us. Often this is all our psyche is longing for. To feel that we are not alone. So what is the point of sobbing and worrying when all we need to do is get out there and face the situation? The chances are it is not as dire as our fears are making it to be...

Kwnstantinos

Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright.
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright!"

"Rise up this mornin',
Smiled with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin', ("This is my message to you-ou-ou:")

Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright."
Singin': "Don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright!"

Rise up this mornin',
Smiled with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin', "This is my message to you-ou-ou:"

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, worry about a thing, oh!
Every little thing is gonna be alright. Don't worry!"
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing" - I won't worry!
"'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright."

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright" - I won't worry!
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright."
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, oh no!
'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright!

Three little birds
Artist(Band):Bob Marley

Free will

2007-05-13T06:07:00.000Z

How many times have you though of the possibilities? How many times have you concluded that, perhaps, given you had a second chance, you would do things differently? How many times have you been furious with someone because their choices do not fall in step with yours? Have you ever wondered why things turned out the way the did? Was it because this is how 'it was meant to be'? Perhaps things turned out that way because you, or someone else orchestrated all of world's relevant conjunctures to reach a desired end in things? Could Paolo Coehlo be right? When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it... he said in the 'Alchemist'

I am not so sure this is the case. Well, if you ask me, it is all a big Chimaera, a lie we all love to believe. A lie that saves us from despair and suicide. Dogmatic passages like the aforementioned can only serve one purpose. Gild the pill of a painful -as it is also inevitable- fact: There is no conspiracy to help you achieve your goals. Or make you fail yourself and those who love you. There is only one recipe for disaster or success, and this is peculiar to you, and to you only. It is you who puts -or does not put- the effort, it is you who makes the choices, it is you who -ultimately- will have to decide if you want to take one way or the other.

I believe in God. This much is true. I believe God allows -even more, desires- me to make my own choices, take my own chances. My God is a God of freedom, a kind and understanding God that will not judge me harshly if I take a wrong turn. My God will help me reach my decision and be there to comfort me when I realize what a huge mistake I made following the road I did. My God is not there to play the role of a scapegoat, my God is NOT a manifestation of my imagination so I can safely disclaim responsibility of my actions. I do not need to create a smokescreen so the world will not see me for who I am.

You can call me a lot of things, but a person who is scared to account for his own actions is not one of them. If we happen to be religious, like I stated earlier I am, thanks are in order to God. Privately. Making your faith a spectacle and a show simply retrogrades the whole issue to something less than it is. It misses the point, it is ridiculous. Simply because this is a very personal matter. But I will talk about this in a future posting.

I believe each person is free to make their own choice. We are all responsible for our own actions, therefore we have only ourselves to blame if a decision we took proves to be catastrophic. Same way, should things turn out favourably, it is us who should gain laurels, not some mountain in Guatemala or a river in Mozambique. This is what makes us unique among all animate creatures. Animals have no capacity for reason, they cannot make their own informed decisions. Governed by their instincts, needs and fears they are exempt of accountability. Humans have been given a gift. The gift of free will. Squandering and exhausting it on choosing designer clothes and TV shows is simply not good enough...

Kwnstantinos

By the first of August

the invisible beetles began

to snore and the grass was

as tough as hemp and was

no color--no more than

the sand was a color and

we had worn our bare feet

bare since the twentieth

of June and there were times

we forgot to wind up your

alarm clock and some nights

we took our gin warm and neat

from old jelly glasses while

the sun blew out of sight

like a red picture hat and

one day I tied my hair back

with a ribbon and you said

that I looked almost like

a puritan lady and what

I remember best is that

the door to your room was

the door to mine.

Anne Sexton - I Remember

Ceterum Censeo Carthago Esse Delendam

2007-05-10T23:00:00.000Z

People have loads of fears. Fear of the unknown, fear for what they cannot control, fear of being free. Yet, we spend most of our energy attending to the lesser fears, like fear of the dark, fear of death, fear of being fearful.

Fear, we are told, is what will keep us safe from the harmful desires and actions of 'the others', but few of us actually come to realize the fallacy and wickedness of such a stance. Those precious few, upon the realization that fear of anything, instead of keeping us safe bounds us in fetters of slavery.

Fear brings violence, this is a natural and expected consequence. Throughout history fear has never been a constructive force. time after time it has led to destruction, punishment and ordeals, reflecting not only on the lives of humans, but in their environment and other earthly creatures.

Some say that our greatest fear is ourselves. That we fear the idea of not measuring up to what we or others aspire for us, that we fear our 'dark side' or our lack of certain abilities. Others say we fear social and biological solitude, so we protect ourselves in the best way we know. By isolating even more, being even more fearful of other people, defending our right to be separate.

We learn to advise people on the qualities of being separate, and we forget the feeling we cherish when we find a familiar bosom to rest and last out the storms life throws at us. We are taught as children to be kind and understanding, but grow up to resemble hyenas, vultures bankers,lawyers and other nefarious creatures.

Our greatest fear is not that we are not deficient or ineffectual. Our greatest fear is that we think others do not see us for who we 'really' are. For this though, more often than not, we have only ourselves to blame. Because it is us, that put those shackles round our own wrists, it is us who shoot anyone attempting to come any closer. It is us.

Kwnstantinos

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.

And, as we let our own light shine, we consciously give
other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.
-Marianne Williamson
“Our Greatest Fear” from her book “A Return To Love”

The lands of the blind are guarded by gates of ignorance

2007-05-09T06:47:00.000Z

There is a plethora of situations that we stop and wonder what in Heaven's name is going on. How could anyone talk, act and think like that? What happened to the high and good ideas? Where did all the visionaries go? When did moral values got replaced by fame? Who depreciated our savings of silence while inflating meaningless fiddle-faddle?

Television is nowadays the new golden standard, and those who force-feed us with their sense of style, understanding of virtue and interpretation of success our new scientists, moral leaders, and in some cases Gods. The result is a uniformed army of utterly boring and mediocre clones who strive to be the next 'pop idol'. Opinion makers tell us that this is how success looks like, and most of us believe them.

Our parents lived in a time where it was not as easy to be enticed and allured by promises of fame, easy money and easy sex! Things have changed though, and we all now are candidates in a game where the winner is whoever wears his/her blinders in the most fashionable way. Little does it matter that we are no longer able to see the whole picture, but rather are shepherded into 'discovering' what the TV producers have scripted and the advertisers paid for.

We learn to treat others as steps on the ladder of our success. Our relationships become tools, and we give ourselves away for the sake of some vain desire that a 'trendy' advertisement implanted in our besotted brains while we were getting our daily dose of glamour served in our home, courtesy of a multinational fashion designer company.

The more we allow ourselves to sink into this mirage of prosperity and beatitude the harder it becomes for us to realize that vanity and a life bereft of drive and desire for things high and difficult can only have one conclusion. Loss our social, human and spiritual bearings. The voices of reason appear to be coming from the desert and deserts, unfortunately, are no 'trendy' places. Ignorance is Bliss, they say. Under that light, I sometimes long for a bit of suffering...

Kwnstantinos

For what doth it profit a man, to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul?

Denn was nutzt es einem Menschen, die ganze Welt zu gewinnen und sein Leben einzubussen?

τι γαρ ωφελησει ανθρωπον εαν κερδηση τον κοσμον ολον και ζημιωθη την ψυχην αυτου; (Mark:8, 36)

It is never that bad...

2007-05-06T02:37:00.000Z

I am of an ardent and zestful inclination. That much is true. Ask anyone who knows me, you will get the same response. Everything I do in my life, I do with enthusiasm and total commitment. Too much enthusiasm for my own good, sometimes. But this is OK. After all, what is left to us to feel alive, if not a perverse and tenacious stance in life? How can we convince ourselves and quench our internal longing for a life out of the ordinary, if we take everything that comes to us with a languid fortitude?

So yes. I am vehement in the way I face every day (and night, just see a previous post) and I could not have it any way different. There are, of course, negative aspects of such a stance in life. While I enjoy a vibrant experience in my everyday encounters with other people and new challenges, and notwithstanding the exhilaration offered by an unexpected (or even paradoxical) victory over an issue, when something takes a turn for the worse, things become very, very complicated. Despair and desolation become your constant companions, and all existence turns grim and painful. What -in everyday life- makes people like me turn overexcited and hopeful, in other words the driving force behind our stance in life, forces us into a state of languid sub-existence, dipping our emotions and logic into unfathomable depths from where nothing and no one is able to recover or salvage any re-usable part.

But that is OK. This is all part of who we are. It defines who we are, it sets us apart (or perhaps demarcates us?) from what we are not. What we would never like to be. What others might aspire to be, simply because they are too scared or too weak to dare follow our road, the road not taken. My friends and loved ones know this, and they often smile when they see me fully engaged on a new (often mundane) task as if my mortal life was depended on it. They also pad me in the back and kiss my forehead, when they see me boggled by something -in their eyes, and in the eyes of the rest of the world- small and easy to circumvent. They love and respect the idea that form me this is important and difficult, a mountain I just *have* to climb. Even if this is a mountain only my eyes can see, and only my feet have to endure. They love me for this. I do not blame them...

Kwnstantinos

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

One, all, part of the whole...

2007-05-02T01:35:00.000Z

Everything and everyone is ONE. We all belong to, we all complement and we all depend upon each other. everything goes in circles and it eventually returns to its point of departure. Sometimes it is changed, enriched or degenerated, understood or misapprehended, one thing it is for sure. In its course in time and space it has touched and changed someone's life, it has altered the course of events in a way that is beautifully incommutable.

Do not ask me to define which events I am talking about. Some event, somewhere in time and space. Everything I do,everything any of us does, no matter how small or big, insignificant or grandiose,unassuming or barefaced, it is bound to have consequences far beyond our reach and understanding. As humans we tend to nurture the (false) belief that we maintain control over our actions indefinitely. Even long after we have committed these actions. We do this because we are vain and we are weak.

We, the modern specimens of the human race, dread to think that there are issues/actions/ideas beyond our (direct or indirect) control, and that all these are most possibly implicative of one another, and their interrelation leads to the creation of new issues/actions/ideas that come into existence either in an autogenic/spontaneous manner or through us (so in that respect we become the instruments in the equation of life). Either way, they develop their own -clearly independent- existence and -in turn- assume the role of the independent actor themselves.

The principle of the 'butterfly effect' is not new both in mathematics and in philosophy. It has been around for a long time, and troubled the brightest of minds, with obscured and controversial results. It became widely known when it became the central idea for a movie that sold so well in the cinema theatres and the DVD market that a sequel soon followed.

The important issue with the debate though is the importance of the concept of continuation/correlation between issues/actions/ideas born from an individual being and released to the world. Perhaps my estimation that it is fear, vanity and insecurity that drives us to project to the outside world an almost omnipotent 'persona' (in regards to our ability to direct our own actions and trail in time and space) is not not accurate enough. This is because I neglected to refer to the important role played here by accountability. Human nature only recently started to entertain the idea that our actions have effects well after our conception of events is able to aid our understanding of them (effects of our actions). An easy example is global warming. Apart from the obvious role played by ignorance (and its blessing qualities that allow us to carry on with our short sighted politics of profit and destruction) it goes to show that we -sometimes- become aware of the impact we have to the universal equilibrium only too late. The full extent of our presence is a burden our descendants will have to bear.

There are no 'Islands', John Donne knew this well before we came to understand the truth of his 'Meditations'.

Kwnstantinos

No man is an island, entire on itself
every man is a small piece of the Continent,
a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,as well a promontory were,
as well as if a manor of thy friends
or of thine own were;
any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind;
And therefore never send to know
for whom the bell tolls;
It tols for THEE...
(John Donne 1624)[meditation XVII]

As night falls...

2007-04-26T07:22:00.000Z

I like the night. The night gives me the liberty, tranquillity and clarity days rarely afford anyone. During the hours of darkness everything slows down. It is then that people are able to hearken their inner self and others. The night offers the opportunity to draw closer to each other and listen. As if by magic, night redeems us from our apprehensions and staginess. One moment we are kept captives of our own devices and fears, the next we are extricated from our thralls.

There is little that can compare to the elan offered by a drink amongst friends next to an open fire (in a long winter's or in some beach a hot summer's night), talking about the most important or mundane issue. It is cleansing. No. Not just that. It is far more than just cleansing. It is necessary!

Nights when you are alone are a different kind of animal. They can be brutal, they certainly are unforgiving. It is the same qualities that make nights wonderful that can leave you distraught, should they happen to come when you are not done dealing with your day. There is little sense in trying to battle it out. Your fate is sealed. The best you can do is try to appease the night, try to remind her that you are one of her dissolute children. Just like one does to a woman, make her see that her bosom is your sole resting place, her tender caresses your only desire.

The night will not judge you, rarely it will ask a question. All it requires from you us to be faithful to her. To embrace her and honour her, to respect her and let her pamper you. Just like a woman. I like the night. She seems to like me too.

Kwnstantinos

Companionship

2007-04-24T07:07:00.000Z

It has been some time now since I was amongst friends having a drink, poring over a mundane issue that -for the purposes of the conversation- took the guise of the most important thing in the world. It has been some time now since I last looked at my watch and realized that the night took us all on a journey and that is already a new day out there. I will not lie to you. I miss that. I miss being with people I love and talk and understand and disagree and fight and love. Did I say love?

Changing residence -for professional reasons- every ten or eleven months has a toll in anyone's life. This is a fact. There is no room, no time and -more often than not- no energy for the emotional investment of a new relationship -any kind of relationship- required. There is not much I can do about it. All I can do is hope to find anchorage somewhere and start building a social life.

I have friends, good friends. But they are miles away. Sometimes it feels to me that we are almost a world apart. So what if I know that anytime -day or night- they are willing to listen to me, my fears and my hopes, they are there to share my happiness and vent my anger? So what if they know I would do the same for them, no matter when, or what is going on in my life?

Human beings need proximity. They thrive on it. We are, after all, social animals. You ask Aristotle about this. Without it we become miserable, underperform and even might turn against each other, simply because of fear. Fear of the unknown other, fear of the alien other.

If there was one thing I would love to have is a wider social circle. Do not get me wrong. My lovely lady is a great companion. A true fellow, an excellent helpmate. But in these things, the more the merrier is the maxim of a happy life.

Open yourselves to people. Accept them and try to understand them. Leave your comfort of your bastion for a moment and attempt to draw closer to each other. Perhaps there is more to earn than it is to lose. After all, What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? (Mark 8:36)

Kwnstantinos

On stars

2007-04-22T06:33:00.000Z

I like to look at the stars. And to pray, full of anticipation, for one of them to ‘fall’. Shooting stars are fascinating. Not that I do not know that there are no falling stars, I am fully aware that what I see are meteors entering Earth’s atmosphere. But a shooting star is always more appealing. Anyway. Shooting stars. I never have enough time to make a wish. That is because I am so busy being amazed. I always was. When I was young I used to spend hours looking at the sky. Fixing my gaze at the stars, I wanted to count them all. To find out how many of them there are. I remember that my grandmother always tried to dissuade me. She used to tell me that if I was to count the stars then my face would be covered with spots. Ugly, fat, full of pus spots.

So I stopped counting them. I wanted to be spots-free. I was vain… Nowadays I still look. But not count. Not because I do not want to get spots. But I was taught in astronomy in school that this would lead me nowhere. They are so many –the ones I can see- that I would never get anywhere near to counting them all. Most important, I was taught that most of these stars are already dead. Well, They are nothing anymore. Nothing that I can understand, anyway. My knowledge of black holes is restricted to that of my despair. If this is anything to go by, the real black holes must be pretty lonely and dangerous places. Albeit familiar…

So these stars do not exist anymore. Only their light. This light will travel in space and time, reach our little planet and then leave it, continuing its journey so other kids, in other planets will be fooled by its morbid effulgence. I bet there are grannies in those planets, making up stories about pus and spots, trying to stop their grandchildren from counting the stars, ‘dead’ and ‘alive’ alike. It is as if you take a stroll in the graveyard on a Sunday afternoon and you start counting everyone there. In a grave or standing. All together, dead men, their bereaved wives and the snivelling family and friends, all in a grotesque aggregate. I love my granny. She saved me that bother…

Kwnstantinos

Impermanence (transience, if you prefer)

2007-04-20T04:25:00.000Z

I am young. And strong. I enjoy running fast against the wind, and jumping as high as I can. I like taking care of my body and my soul. I am not a smoker, and I am a very moderate social drinker. I am an athlete. And a thinker. I enjoy the company of my friends and those I love. I thrive in competition and I live for long discussions over a mundane issue with my friends at four in the morning accompanied with a good red wine and some delicious bites. I am an irremediable admirable of the feminine form and I enjoy the fellowship of a very special lady I call mine. I have hopes, needs and desires, as I have fears, drawbacks and inhibitions.

One of the things that perplexes me the most, one of the things that I find the hardest to come in terms with is the idea of impermanence (or transience, if you prefer). Not in the narrow sense of the term, referring to the vainness of existence, the idea that what is today tomorrow will not be, but the -even sadder, if you ask me- certainty that, what I am able to achieve; dream and fight for today, tomorrow -or at some imprecise point in the future- will be most likely beyond my reach. What I can pursue today, tomorrow it will be an unattainable feat. The idea that there is a point in time -past, present or future- that I will -or already have- reach my peak, that after this point degeneration of the mind and involution of the body will -or already has- be the only natural consequence enrages me.

The fact that there will be a point that I will not be able to improve my jumping ability, speed, capacity to learn new things and desire to explore new possibilities is a very sobering thought. Or that this point might have already passed for so many things. Things that I might have not yet discovered that I like or need doing. This is why I keep trying different things, keep an open mind to new ideas and people, and put extra care in not letting my inhibitions, pre-conceived ideas, phobias and biases rob me of an experience or an encounter I might never have the chance to live again. Like skiing and ice skating. I used to be terrified by the idea, now I am looking forward to every opportunity I have to go back to the slopes or to the ice ring. I try new foods whenever I have the chance, try to do a thing that used to scare me as often as I see an opportunity.

But this is not enough to eradicate my haunting thoughts of impermanence. I know that there is a time where I will play basketball for the last time. Perhaps injury will finally overcome me. Or maybe I will lose interest. Even worse, I will not be good enough to play any more. I keep thinking that one day -or night- I will see my mother and father for the last time. After that they will be dead. Or I will be. There will be a time where I will make love for the last time. Perhaps impotence will knock on my door. Or disease. Or heartbrake. Thinking about this now makes me want to be kind to my parents, those I love and to everyone I meet in general. Makes me want to run faster, jump higher, be more tender to my lady and attend to her -and my needs- more often. Now that I am young. Now that I am strong.

Kwnstantinos

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way, and it corrodes my soul
I want to leave, you will not miss me
I want to go down in musical history

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck
I've got the 21st century breathing down my neck
I must move fast, you understand me
I want to go down in celluloid history, Mr. Shankly

Fame, Fame, fatal Fame
It can play hideous tricks on the brain
But still I'd rather be Famous
Than righteous or holy, any day
Any day, any day

But sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled
Making Christmas cards with the mentally ill
I want to live and I want to Love
I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way and it corrodes my soul
Oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry, Mr. Shankly

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, since you ask
You are a flatulent pain in the arse
I do not mean to be so rude
Still, I must speak frankly, Mr. Shankly

Oh, give us your money !

FRANKLY, MR. SHANKLY
Artist(Band):The Smiths

(Anything but) a prolusion

2007-04-18T01:08:00.000Z

I was raised to think that I should learn as much as I can. To enquire and to explore. To try and understand, so one day I will be able to explain. I was told that knowledge is what will eventually set me free. Set me free from what, I used to ask myself. I never got any closer to giving any answers, not the kind that I was hoping for, anyway.

So I set myself the task to learn. And enquire. And explore. Big part was played by literature and poetry. Reading opened a whole new world in front of my eyes. So I read. A lot... There was times that it was a book a day. Sometimes I would forget to eat. I still read. Less, but I am a bit more fastidious now, so I have an excuse. But my old days of book-devouring are over. Mainly because, apart of a man of knowledge, I happen to be a man of actions also. Perhaps in school you had better luck? You might wonder. What about school? Forget about schooling. Of this, I got plenty. With debatable results.

The real journey was, and still is, in one's life. An Odyssey through personal defeat and triumph. A ceaseless series of events, a voracious thirst for the new and the unknown. The more I searched, the less sense it all made. One answered question gave birth to series of multiple unanswered ones. This was getting so tiring. In addition to that, it did not seem to get me anywhere. Neither in terms of racket (yes, I DO love old and rarely used words!), nor as far as my own personal curiosity was concerned. I soon realized that 'real' answers are not in books. After all, If the whole truth cannot be found in literature, how can it be hiding in maths and physics and geography?

Music was another source of information and a means of enquiry. Creating it, enjoying it, being part of it and making it part of me was a major part of my life. It still is to this day. Not a day goes by that I do not seek refuge in it, not a personal or professional issue exists where I was able to widen my horizons, change my vantage point and re-evaluate my stance, all thanks to the likes of Joan Baez; Jimmy Hendrix; the Smiths, or one of their brothers in music.

I figured that there had to be yet another way to learn and to understand, to explore and to find. So I travelled. Sometimes far, sometimes closer to home. Wherever that was. Home for me is a relative term. Having 'lived' in eight countries by the age of seven I finally settled in a boarding school in merry old England. But this is not a matter to be discussed now.

My travels took me to some places pretty, to some places ugly, and to some places where I would rather not be. Coming in contact with new people, learning to call 'home 'every place new and -even more important- learning to cope with the pain of leaving -or being left by- my newly-found 'paramour' (yes, another rarely used word) made me who I am today. Do not ask me who I am. Or what I am. Perhaps if you stick around long enough (that is, if there is any sort of indication that I am not my own blog's sole reader) you can work out for yourself.

Welcome, I hope you will stay. Talk to me, I like to listen. i also like to talk. Go on, do not be a stranger!

Kwnstantinos