Ένα δευτερόλεπτο διαρκεί μόνο μια αιωνιότητα

Ολοι λένε να αναπνεύσεις. Ακόμη και μέσα σε μια ατελείωτη ανεμοθύελλα χάους, σκότους η μαγική λέξη λένε πως είναι η αναπνοή. Η αλήθεια είναι οτι η αναπνοή είναι μία απο τις διαδικασίες που γίνεται αυτόματα απο τον οργανισμό μας. Χωρίς αυτή δεν μπορούμε να επιβιώσουμε και να συνεχίσουμε να ζούμε. Είναι η απολυτότερη απο της διόδους προς τη ζωή. Όμως σήμερα είναι σαν να έχουμε σταματήσει να αναπνέουμε αληθινά και το κάνουμε μόνο απο ανάγκη.
Το χάος έχει πολλά ονόματα. Άγχος, ανακατωσούρα, ταχύτητες άπιαστες κοινωνικές και δυσανάλογες, ανισορροπία, καταστροφικά καιρικά φαινόμενα, πόλεμος...

Ας τα αφήσουμε όμως αυτα για ένα δευτερόλεπτο στην άκρη. Κι ας γίνει αυτό το δευτερόλεπτο μια αιωνιότητα γιατί ως δημιουργήματα του Θεού ίσως να πρέπει να σταματήσουμε να αυτοκαταστρεφόμαστε. Το χάος υπήρχε στην αρχή, αλλα τελικά δε σταμάτησε να υπάρχει. Είναι επιτακτική ανάγκη να μπορέσουμε να συμβιώσουμε με το ίδιο και να εναρμονιστούμε με την ίδια την φύση που περιέχει μέσα της το ίδιο το χάος. Δίοτι χωρίς χάος δε θα υπήρχε η τάξη, η πραότητα, η γαλήνη και η ηρεμία.

Σε μια πολύ απασχολημένη ημέρα λοιπόν αξίζει, θα πρέπει να αξίζει, να σταματήσουμε να τρέχουμε για χρονικό διάστημα μιας αιωνιότητας και να αναπνεύσουμε για ένα δευτερόλεπτο. Έτσι μόνο θα εναρμονιστούμε με το ίδιο το χάος. 

Hands smell of oranges

Hands that smell like oranges. She just had finished cutting salad for her mom and it seemed appropriate to add some fresh cut oranges in it. The smell finally stuck.
Another time she was out eating with friends after she had finished class, that same smell reappeared. And we had our dinner, pretty quickly I can say, and then it was time for desert. But instead of something sweet it was time for an orange. It was so difficult to peal that her whole face was full of juices after she was done. And she ate it slowly and passionately. At that time she said to herself to wash her hands after that. But as usual she forgot. The hands were sticky, yellow and that smell... The smell stuck.
There are certain smells or situations or whatever you want to call it, in which we find ourselves stuck. Enjoy them. For example, the whole time during studying she could smell that beautiful scent of oranges. Fresh and juicy.
Cause it had stuck. 

thoughts

On valentine's day we all hope for that special someone.
We think, and think and believe that someone is out there waiting for us. And we change various moods throughout the day. From mad, to being cute and full of forgiveness by remembering our exes, to sad and vulnerable around other couples. I am sick of this life.
I am starting to wonder why humans have built such big civilisations, huge houses, bridges, cars and all those technological stuff that no one really needs in the end cause one's true purpose is to find that special someone. 

shit happens

There is this tv series created by Lena Dunham called Girls. It describes the life of several girls and it's about every day life. It's about routine struggles that everyone is going through. It explains with simple ways how someone can be psychotic, amazed, high, mad and still go through life and survive pain or anger.
A very specific scene from season two is my favourite, where Hannah is in the bathtub and she is singing 'I said maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me..' that song -wonderwall- from oasis. And at some point Jessa comes in the bathroom and Hannah screams startled, Jessa removes her clothes and gets in the bathtub. Just like that. Two friends. Laughing about their lives in the bathtub.
Realizations and growing up.
Life.
shit happens

There are no answers to all questions

You have the right to be treated right. To be valued and loved. You have the right to be heard and seen. You ought to be respected and hugged honestly. You should be able to be free and make your own choices. You have to be understood and noticed. You're not some ordinary person. To be here, to be like this, to feel that way, all of this is a state of uniqueness. Stop mistreating your own beauty and start demanding honesty, respect and be free to run run run away from idiots, pigs and speechless cowards. Ignore those late night messages that provoke your feelings and tear them apart in 2 seconds. Life is too short to stop at one place and hibernate there forever. 

Move on, learn to face the hard times of your life. Love your body, love your way of moving into space, love the way you talk and look at objects. Love the way you obsess about that tv show you watched that previous summer. Dare to love the imperfections of your true self, that unevenly cut belly button, or the hairs under your armpits. Dare to improve your language and communication skills and dare to speak out loud even when seen, at brought daylight. Be your worst enemy and the loveliest angel all at one unity. Don't be afraid. Fear is weakness running through your vanes. 

And delete all those messages of unfair love and limited affection. Deactivate your brain into thinking only what makes you happy for the moment. Live to create light and not destruction. Jump over all those objects in your way that slow your way and make your life miserable. And only you can name those. Quit making the same mistakes that lead you into the darkest, loneliest city corners.

Face that ex boyfriend of yours, say goodbye to your ex lovers that did you wrong and go find whats right. Accept the affectionate love of the world and give your everything to that old lady on the bus that absolutely needs to sit. Give a piece of you, to that homeless man on that corner of the street by giving him a blanket of yours. Tear apart your brain in order to succeed and pass that difficult test that leads you into freedom. Dear to give without expecting to receive. Speak to your God and He will answer through strange actions. Read those messages that He sends you and accept his life challenges.  Be fearless. Be yourself. Don't rush your way into life. Let some things just be. There are no answers to all questions. 

yours truly, its the deja vu

Every song was written for a reason. That's because someone had to say something to the person next to. Songs express feelings. They can be angry feelings, stoned feelings, love feelings, 'i care about you' feelings and the list goes on an on. It's a way of someone's saying i love you or I miss you. When our communication is poor then, I'll have a list of songs with which i will be trying to say to you I miss you, I am sorry, I was stupid, you were amazing, what we had, we never gave it the right chance.
Those songs of long lost words, I would be sending them to you every single day for a week, a month, a year, until I saw you again. But no. The truth is that he had our chance. Songs were sang while we were together. But that wasn't enough. Words are words. They are not enough if you can't hold what's yours inside your hands, your heart.
That I'm living now is a deja vu. I've already been here two times. Two painful times. Once with a blue eyed boy, once with a drummer. Now, it's the same pain running through my veins and my heart. I gotta say that this sucks. This endless deprivation I keep on having is the worst part of having lost someone. And this year was full of losses. Of all those long lost loves, kisses, I choose to not have to think about you or them again. You are not a part of my life anymore. Life keeps on moving and I have the choice to chase whats mine because I want to. You didn't do that with me then I accept that. But next time you see me, lets say I won't be the same me. I will not be yours.I choose to move on. To move past you. Move into the oblivion of life.
yours truly 

I'll be seeing you...

A love so big, so tender, so huge and open that is always there. It is there for you. You feel it in your heart, in your brain. You feel it when it comes to choosing. Its is not the right choice and you know it. It is not what your parents told you to do. But it was their mistake too. Long time ago they did the same mistake. They fell in love. Little rebels that thought they could catch the wind, they could tame fire and they could fly without any wings. Cause this is love. Not being able to feel your heart from breaking into a million pieces when you're heartbroken. When you can't be with the one your heart chose, but your mind knew it wasn't right.

Love is lack of sleep, or it is too much sleep. It's denial. It's ignoring everyone and everything in the light of day and night. It is like being barefoot when your parents told you to wear your slippers. 

It is so painful when you're feeling it. And when you're not you feel completely empty. Completely lost. It's like you don't know yourself when you're not under the rain with your other half. You're meant to be half. 

A love so big, so tender, so painful, so giving,so open, so warm. Dramatic till the end. Huge till the end. Until you see again that one person again. Until you be together again, or until you choose a different path in life, either way it is going to hurt. It is going to burn real bad. It is going to destroy you and feel you up with those beautiful and priceless emotions. Love can do that. 

A love so big, so tender, so huge and open that is always there. It is there for you. 

to know me- Self knowledge

What if you could see your soul?
What would you see?
Would you see the reflection of your mind's ideas of it, or would you really see what's in there?

We sometimes tend to make an image of ourselves. A very better image of who we really are. At last, our character is nothing compared to what we have imagined it would be.
Realisation of our true ego is better than imagining. To create the best of us, to create the best of you, you first and foremost need to get to know the true you.
Be better after knowing the parts of yourself that have to be improved.
Self knowledge is a powerful virtue. Acquire it. Make it yours. 

Goodbye summer, goodbye to you as well

And as I watched almost by myself summer departing, letting me with cloudy skies, the cool summer breeze that turned to cold autumn-like wind, I turned around and realised how many people have stayed, how many have left this town, this country, this world...

2018 was the year of big changes and big realisations. Being an adult changes you psychologically ,because of the many responsibilities you ought to have as a grown up. But still, here I am. Still living with my parents in their house, them still taking care of me, still being their little girl-their little innocent angel-but I'm not... 

Like everybody else I've moved on with my life, or at least I tried to (changed my routine, changed the way I talk, changed my hair, my appearance, my style, the way I move around space, I calmed down and I tried to relax my cells into moving slower, with patience).

My everyday life is so much different now that certain people are gone and will continue to leave. Life is a constant scene of moving changing actors-literally I see people as performers from now on with so much falseness going around-, lights upon stage that are constantly turned onto yourself (whatever that self might be-you,me,them,us...-), clothes going from short to long to nothing and then you press pause. Take your house keys, a deep breath in and you go for a walk, a run. Trying to unleash those hormones of happiness (endorphins they are called). And then you run.. you run until you stop. Run until all those thoughts disappear. Run until you stop. 

История (a story)

The beautiful sound of leafs as the wind hits them softly, the colours of green, purple, light grey, dark and light brown and the colour of my skin blending in. A touch of musical sound in the air and the buzzing of some bees looking for flowers. Myself feeling the cold grey ground in my front yard. The feeling of cool pink juice with a couple of ice cubes inside a big tall glass. Feeling like myself inside my natural habitat. An idea of how strong and powerful life can be. Of how intense the present is when you take this moment to yourself.
I seemed to have forgotten how it is to feel good, real good with just yourself. Focusing on the now and on the future. Planing your day and making it your own. Observing the small things that are making you feel overflowed with happiness.
So as content as I am in this current moment of time  I want to tell you a small story.
Here we go.
I was a girl, always so innocent and happy when I was little. I went to school and this place destroyed me. It damaged my feelings my creativity as I was growing up. At that moment I didn't realise how lost I was and how situations are going to affect my life in the years to come. People at school weren't all kind. Some of them were affectionate enough but it wasn't enough. I want to create a small society of innocent and kind feelings. I know this might be a dreamy world but I'll try. For me and the people around me that deserve the best treatment and my lover, my kids, my future family. Continuing living on I was bullied, I was tossed to the side, I was made to feel bad about my body, myself, my feelings and the way I see this world. My creativity was tossed to the underground world and my heart broke thousands of time into a million pieces. I am not holding a grudge but those memories are awful.
Feelings caused by lack of constructive communication. No one was telling me things about life, about my body, about my mind, about the world. I had to learn everything from scratch by heart for the years to come. I had to learn to live the good life by myself and this costed me valuable time. Time I'll never regain ever again. Precious time.
High school was even worse. But that time I grew up and I realised I had to do everything on my own. I had to create the world I want to live in. So I took a deep breath. I took loads of them. And I tried to get deep into artistic projects. Painting my feelings out, expressing my mind over music over words and on people, on walls, on paper. I created powerful pieces of Art. I created myself the way I wanted and I still am. I am moulding my body and mind into this almost perfect piece of endless art in order to express all those ideas outside this brain full of energy.
Every day as long as I can remember in high school I would draw another piece of thought outside my mind, into a paper into a person. Some where jealous, some where admiring what I was doing, most of them were ignorant. But I managed.
As studying became harder and I had to focus on my exams to come I fell in love. Firstly with a long haired boy with deep blue eyes, afterwards with a drummer and then with a soul close to what I am. Three times of pain and disturbed feelings. But I managed as well. I accepted the feelings and outgrew them. I turned the pain and  the anger into flowers in a piece of paper. I started running and running and watched my body change. I tried to forget those 2 and keep going with the third. Still am. Finishing exams was hard as well but I tried to meet as many people as I could, I tried to dream as much as I can for the future to come. I gave everything i owned inside and out to those two and some more and I watched as my soul divided into pieces of self that were extracted from me and given to them. Lost pieces. Thank God I am still young and I can grow new ones. Or else I wouldn't survive. The last sex was painful, not physically but emotionally. I betrayed every piece of myself and regretted every moment of my life I wasted on that action. I was sick, I was in pain, I was sad.
But then this moment came. This moment of loneliness accompanied with a cigarette, this pink juice, the wind, the bees, the grey ground stones of my frond yard, the music in the air and for once after a long time I felt better. I feel better and I am starting to feel like myself again. Like a new self. A better one, a stronger one. A somebody somehow wiser, improved, once again observant of the beautiful world that hugs me every time I look around.

Soul explosion

I’m imagining myself exploding. Me scattered into a million billion pieces. Small pieces of myself that every person I’ve met and will, will behold. Small pieces of flesh and soul that people take away from me every time I open up. Little pieces with cracks on them cause I ain’t a perfect person. A sinner, that’s who I am. And my scattered pieces, I hope they’ll do you good to all of you people that dared to take one with you.

The one regret in life

Summer is full of surprises. Full of mystery. And a bunch of adventures await out there for you to take over. Explore places, find yourself in the most uncommon places with the weirdest people. Trying your luck with food, art. Travel and unlock the hidden mysteries of an island. Be free by being naked on a beach and explore your sexuality. 
Well sometimes its more than that. It is about having your eyes and ears open for what you really want, and finally take it. Be the master of your own mind and body and quit temptations. Be free by being in love with one person. Be content by letting yourself fall into someone else's arms for the first time in your life. 
Social media and the world nowadays is all about finding yourself by being alone. Friendship is the one and only value worth fighting for. Well, let me agree to disagree. 
Summer may be the first beginning of a young soul and the gate to self exploration and of course all the wilderness but..
Don't let yourself to regret meeting again that one lovely soul you met at the most bluest sea... The one soul that has the loveliest green-grey eyes. 
Don't regret for not settling for one moment. 

NOstalgia

Something about the old days. I can't say they were good, so no good old days. But I can say this:
I was in love back then. A drummer, a heartbeat, a very short period of time of many heartbeats, loads of texting, smiling, teasing, laughing. Music, my ears were full of music, melodic, stoner mostly, good and bad quality, i deeply didn't care because it was his music, our music. Not anymore but its ok. Our 'ours' is no more, my mind goes back to those days and feels still the same feelings, the same aches, the odd wild looks we shared-maybe I am exaggerating now but it's still ok for me to do that-.
I was in love, I still am in this moment in my dreams. This is why I love my dreams, becaue I can be anything. I can be in love. 

mirror mirror on the world

Αντανακλάσεις. Βρίσκονται παντού. Αντικατοπτρίζουν ίσως την πραγματικότητα. Ρεαλισμό. Το κοινώς αποδεκτό και γνωστό. Ίσως όχι αποδεκτό αρχικά ή εν τέλει, αλλά ξέρετε για τι πράγμα μιλάω. Αντανακλάσεις. Εικόνες, ήχοι που πέφτουν σε μια επιφάνεια και επανέρχονται με την ίδια συχνότητα στα μάτια μας, στα αυτιά μας. Τώρα θα απορρήσει κανείς πως μπορώ να τα λέω όλα αυτά. Δεν είμαι φυσικός, είμαι όμως μια πολύ καλή παρατηρητής. Και αυτό που βλέπω είναι η αλήθεια. Ή τουλάχιστον έτσι μου είπαν. Εσύ και εγώ δεν είμαστε τίποτα άλλο παρά μια αντανάκλαση του φωτός. 

Και πηγαίνουμε προχωράμε, συνεχίζουμε. Ταλαντωνόμαστε μέσα στις συχνότητες του κόσμου όπως μας δίδαξαν οι γονείς, οι δάσκαλοι, ο ίδιος μας ο εαυτός. 

Η ευτυχία όμως δεν είναι εδώ. Είναι εκεί πέρα, εκεί έξω.Είναι το ειπωμένο αδύνατο και το πεταμένο αύριο ενός δηλωμένου πανεπιστημιούχου. Είναι η ευκαιρία, της ευκαιρίας που πέρασε, έκατσε, έφυγε.

Και εσύ τώρα με όσα διάβασες φύγε, και κυνήγησε το αδύνατο.

Κορμί που ξανάνιωσε

Ο παράξενος άνθρωπος υποκύπτει στην παρουσία μιας ευγενικής και αιθέριας ψυχής. Ότι παραξενιά και να έχει, ότι κουσούρι και να κουβαλά η ψυχή του παραλείπεται, παραγκωνίζεται και εμφανίζεται έκπληκτα η δεκτικότητα, η απαλλοτρίωση και η επανένωση του εαυτού του με την αγάπη, τον ερωτισμό. Όλα αυτά, με την εμφάνιση της αιθέριας ύπαρξης. Της τρέλας του νεανικού ιδεώδους, και της προσπάθειας προβολής ενός κομματιού του εγώ που πολλές φορές χάνεται πίσω από την κούραση, την αιώνια κούραση που επιβάλλει το αλλοτριωμένο σήμερα και η βαρετή ύπαρξη της έννοιας της δουλείας, της δουλειάς.

Ο άνθρωπος αυτός λοιπόν αφήνεται στα νεανικά και γεμάτα ένταση και πάθος χέρια που κάνουν το κορμί να ξανανιώνει, να ξανά εμπνέεται, να ξαναζεί πιο δυνατά από ποτέ. Να υπάρχει πιο δυναμικά από ποτέ έτοιμος για μια νέα αρχή, για τον αέρα της αλλαγής που τόσο καιρό υποτιμούσε. 

-Άννα  

γαλάζια φλόγα

Μια μπλε γαλάζια φλόγα

μορφή στο απέναντι παράθυρο

χιόνι απαλό στο στήθος

τα μαλλιά ξαφνικά βρεγμένα

και η μπλε γαλάζια φλόγα έσβησε

ο καφές έτοιμος...

Ποεμ

Και όχι, τα συναισθηματικά είναι τα επαναστατικά

Και τα κρυφά είναι τα συναρπαστικά.

A quote

I believe in the human interaction with the universe,

something i call luck.
 -Anna

"Once upon a calm night"

Μια νύχτα περασμένη στο ρολόι του χρόνου, βρισκόμουν στην παραλία με μια άλλη χαμένη ψυχή.

Με ρώτησε τι θα ήθελα να κάνω στη ζωή μου. Εγώ, χωρίς να το πολυσκεφτώ απάντησα: "Θέλω να γίνω καλύτερος άνθρωπος".

Τώρα αυτές οι λέξεις με στοιχειώνουν και με ακολουθούν καθημερινά, κι ας μη πέρασε πολύς καιρός από τότε..

Καιρός, χρόνος, σχετικές έννοιες που επινόησε ο άνθρωπος για να γνωρίζει και να υπολογίζει άλλες έννοιες. Εδώ, το μόνο που ξέρω σίγουρα για αυτή την έννοια που ονομάζεται "χρόνος" είναι οτι, πρώτον στα ανθρώπινα μάτια περνάει σα μια αστραπιαία βροντή δίχως να το καταλαβαίνουν. Δεύτερον, πολλές ψυχές αδιαφορούν για τούτο το φαινόμενο (τον χρόνο) χαραμίζοντας έτσι τις ζωές τους σε άσκοπους περιλογισμούς και πράξεις.

Τρίτον σα θεϊκή έννοια δεν υπάρχει. Ένας δημιουργός του σύμπαντος, η ενέργεια, δεν εξαρτάται απο τον χρόνο παρά μόνο το αντίθετο. 

Πώς γίνεσαι καλύτερος άνθρωπος όμως; Τι σημαίνει η λέξη καλύτερος; 

Ορθό ή μη...

Επομένως, στο ερώτημα "ποια ιστορία πρέπει να διδαχθεί στο σχολείο" η απάντηση δεν μπορεί παρά να είναι "ποιόν κόσμο θέλουμε" και άρα βαθύτατα πολιτική. 

_Από άρθρο του Ηλία Μαδεμλή από την εφημερίδα "Το Βήμα" (18 Μαρτίου 2007) 

Ιστορία και αντικειμενικότητα δεν υπάρχει τελικά;

Ιστοριογράφος αυστηρά κάθετος στην υποκειμενικότητα υπάρχει; 

Θυμάμαι κάποια στιγμή στο γυμνάσιο που κάναμε ένα αρχαίο κείμενο του Πολύβιου, αρχαίου ιστορικού-μπορεί να ήταν και κάποιος σχολιαστής του δε θυμάμαι ακριβώς- το οποίο υποστήριζε οτι ένας ιστοριογράφος και ιστορικός θα πρέπει να αντιμετωπίζει την ιστορία τελείως αντικειμενικά για να προσδώσει στο κοινό του την αλήθεια των γεγονότων και όχι να προπαγανδίσει το κοινό. 

Ένα χρόνο αργότερα ο καθηγητής που δίδασκε τα φιλολογικά στην τάξη άλλαξε και τέθηκε το θέμα της ιστορίας ξανά στην τάξη. Εγώ πίστευα ότι ο ιστορικός πρέπει όντως να είναι απλός παρατηρητής και αναπαραγωγός απλών γεγονότων αλλά ο καθηγητής νευρίασε με αυτήν μου την άποψη. 

Ένας ιστορικός, μου είπε, δεν ήταν και δε θα είναι ποτέ αντικειμενικός με τα λεγόμενά του.

Πάντα θα υπάρχει η νότα του προσωπικού του πιστεύω μέσα στο κείμενό του. 

Ορθό ή μη, η παραπάνω πρόταση ισχύει.