..freedom at last..

He sat once again staring straight ahead..looking but not seeing.. The faces in his head closing in on him the screams getting louder and louder like sirens wailing inside his head.. deafening, driving him crazy.. the faces were pale..pale as snow.. their eyes red rimmed and dark inside..black  like an endless abyss pulling him in.. and there was nowhere to hide..no way to turn away from the ghosts in his head.. He blinked madly again and again trying to shake away the nightmare that hunted him not only in his sleep but in his waking hours..
"I'm not crazy..They're not real" he repeated to himself over and over..
but the ghosts kept on coming their soul ripping screams getting painfully loud until he felt blood would come out of his ears..
now he was cold..he was suddenly so cold despite heat the fireplace close to him was emanating.. like he had suddenly transported into the world of the dead.. and all that he could feel was dread..
He'd never felt such fear in his life..and all he wanted to do was scream.."Help me I'm buried alive.."..
But no sound would come out try as he may.. like his voice was suddenly stolen away.. He shook his head,he pulled his hair and suddenly the images disintegrated into thin air..
He clutched his chest and fought for breath.. every intake more painful than the other.. slowly but surely the view of his window came back and he could see the crashing waves rising and falling like angry white horses in a race..
His breathing had finally returned to normal..so he took a few unsure steps and plopped down on a chair afraid that if he stood any longer he would pass out..
He tried to put his thoughts in order..but even when the faces weren't there they were still in his head.. he could do nothing think of nothing that would erase them from his mind..
They were getting worse every day.. like angels of death that came to take him with them.. they haunted him mocked him from the underworld.. It was like being trapped in a dream with no escape.. Sleep deprived from the constant nightmares and mentally exhausted he just sat there in his worn out old chair staring outside as the waves continuously  crashed in a steady rhythm.. The sky was obscured by dark grey clouds.. the wind was howling.. like it too, was screaming in agony..  big raindrops started to fall like tears from the sky..
And like that he sat.. Again staring..but not seeing.. he didn't know how long he sat there..seconds minutes hours.. time had no meaning at this point.. but when he finally focused outside, it was dark.. he looked around.. the fireplace had gone out only ashes and smoke left.. the room had gotten colder.. but he did not care , he decided.. he would sit there and wait  for them to come.. and this time he would not fight.. he would let them take him at last.. he had no more strength to fight them..
And surely they came.. one by one they clouded his vision again.. only this time they didn't look angry or scary.. they looked sad..as if they new of his decision.. they motioned him to follow and so he did.. he got up and walked toward the big old fashioned door opened it and stepped outside into the cold moist air.. he left it open.. he wouldn't be returning, he knew.. he went down the weather beaten old wooden staircase that led directly to the beach.. the sand was swirling around like a tornado.. he went towards the dark waters and stepped into the sea..
one of the faces came closer.. it was a woman he realised.. beautiful even in her ghostly form with long wavy black hair..an image of her alive  passed through his mind.. her dark hair glossy and perfect falling down to her waist her now purplish lips bright red like roses.. her black eyes a piercing startling blue.. her chalk white complexion a healthy olive shade.. "So beautiful" he thought.. she came closer until he was inches away..she raised her slender hand.. her bony fingers lightly stroked his cheek.. she leaned in and whispered in his ear with her velvet voice "come with me" .. and so he did.. he walked further into the unknown waters..
everything around was pitch black only her greyish figure lighting his path.. the water was now up to his neck.. the waves started coming in an angrier rhythm as if they were impatient to take him away.. he closed his eyes and smiled.. images of his life flashed by like a cheesy romance movie.. memories filling his head.. he wasn't afraid now.. no.. not at all.. he was happy.. so he let himself drift.. let the waves swallow him.. and as he let out his final breath he felt nothing but peace.. everything around him disappeared.. his throat started to burn as the water entered his lungs and his consciousness started to slip away..
His last thought was "Freedom at last"..

Memories..

Memories.. Just scattered memories.. That's all you left me with.. Memories, of a love so strong it threatened to tear me apart.. But.. Oh those memories.. They're so real.. Like day dreams.. I go back to that place in my mind time and time again.. It's like a whole different world.. And like a killer I go back to the crime scene to relive it.. To get that high again.. That high those moments gave me..
I remember every detail you know.. Every single detail.. They're starting to get a bit vague.. It's been so long.. But I remember.. It's as if I can still feel your breath on my neck.. And then your lips.. Placing gentle kisses starting at my collarbone.. Going up to my neck.. And finally sealing my lips with a kiss.. I can still your tender touch on my body.. I can feel you holding me close.. Breathing in my scent.. I can hear those whispered words right from the beginning..
We were on the bed together.. You were holding me tight.. You whispered in my ear.. 'I know that it's not right.. But I'm in love with you..' and you kissed me again.. You held me,until I fell asleep in your arms.. I loved sleeping in your arms.. I felt safe.. It felt like home..
And I know.. It wasn't right.. It was so wrong.. We made mistake after mistake.. Never thinking of the consequences.. Always acting in instinct.. We were so different.. We are so different, we end up being exactly the same.. We fought a lot.. Always arguing 'cause we didn't see eye to eye.. But there was passion behind it all.. Behind every argument.. Every bitter word.. I knew, that no matter how bad it got, no matter how long we went without speaking, in a moment we go back to how we were.. How can a heart get broken so many times and still pull through..? Like a very resilient glass, that no matter how many times you throw it down, doesn't brake.. It barely cracks..
How can memories be the only thing left from this..?? Now you're gone.. But I don't feel like I've lost you.. Am I trying so hard to hold on or are we yet not broken..? At least I know no matter what happens, I still have that place in my mind.. Where I can go and just remember.. Those memories which will last.. Those memories which help me pull through, while at the same time bring back the mind numbing pain.. But I wouldn't change a thing.. Even when it causes so much pain I'd do it again.. Cause you made feel.. I felt that love with all my senses.. It felt so good to be reckless for once you know.. To do something that was wrong yet felt so right.. You know how it feels though don't you..? Remember what you said to me that night..?? 'I feel something so right by doing the wrong thing' .. Funny that's exactly how I felt..
I wont forget your words or actions.. Good and bad.. And I'll remember these feelings.. That as you once again accurately said are completely irrational yet feel so right..
I still love you.. We're not broken.. I never told you.. But I do.. And I'm waiting for the time , when I get to see you again.. And finally.. Hold you in my arms.. Kiss you.. And whisper "I love you".. Sleep in your arms again.. Feel like I'm at home again.. Feel safe..
Take care my love.. Until we meet again..

Like A Candle

I was watching your back. What have I done to deserve something like this? I always thought that loving someone with all your heart was enough but it appears that i was mistaken. All I ever wanted was you and now you are so close to me  yet, so far. You was walking away and I could not even move. My heart and feet were frozen. I was trying to speak but it seemed like I was unable to speak. What happened? How did we ended up like this and when? Dont take the light away, please. Why dont you just come back here, we can find a way to make this whole thing right. We messed up, I know but you dont have to feel guilty about anything that you have done throughout our relationship. Dont worry, I love you just the way you are anyway. These words were never spoken though... I was just watching you walk away. You was so beautifull although you turned my life to a living hell. That hell was my motivation though, I loved you from the beginning till the end. I was never afraid of this mountain in my way because you taught me how to climb and get through everything. You taught me so much, even though you was younger than me.

The wind was hurting my face and you was still walking away. I was trying to reach out for you but my body would not move. I wanted to grab you and kiss you but you wont even look at me. "Come on" I was thinking, just turn your head and look at me! What happened to you? Why did you changed so much? I was wondering what was going on inside your head, that little, pretty head that i never managed to understand. Let me approach and cure that chaos inside you. I promise I wont hurt you, the only thing I want to achieve is your happiness, I swear..... Please, dont leave. Can't you see that I am sad? Dont you love me anymore? In every step that you were taking, the darkness in my mind was closing in. The light was fading away and I felt a dark, cold grip on my hand. My feet started to shiver and tears were dripping from my eyes.

You turned your head in an attempt to look at me and you took me by surprise when i noticed that you were crying too. I never understood why u were crying. Dont you see that you are my salvation? I need you in my life so I can smile, like I did when I first met you. I need you to be alright, you are the only one I can trust. Suddenly your little crying face, got a twisted expression..... You were smilling. Why the hell would you smile at a time like this...? Your eyes turned from cute to blank.

That moment I realized. You were faking....All this time that I was giving you everything I had...you were faking every single thing......

And just like that.....

The candle light was extinguished by the darkness.

Love & Corruption Ending Part

As I said, he mused. Dumbass. As I read the text message on his Smartphone, hope again arose in my heart and I felt that maybe, just maybe, my husband could work on handling his illogical and quite manic behavior. And although the letters on the display to me only looked like meaningless lines and dots invented by some long bearded Greek guy years ago, the meanings of those letters meant the world to me. They meant peace, children and stability. These words meant hope and love and passion. Dear Mark, you may have received an incorrect mail this morning that you need to delete. In it, an unknown hacker claims that city funds, aimed for withdrawal, originally favor the university alumni. The mail is a spam and shall be regarded only as junk-mail. The mayor, in fact, is going to raise the financial assets that benefit our campus and its staff. So, dont worry and dont reach for your gun. Not today or any day. Have a nice Sunday, Mark, and thanks for good work. Ishaan. I saw Marks boss in my minds eye, his long Indian moustache twitching and his nougat skin glowing in the morning sunlight while he wrote the mail in the comfort of his own home, hoping to give Mark enough willpower to overcome his choleric outbursts. Ishaan Gupta had been chosen as University Principal because of his intellectual capabilities and capacity, but also because of his adept way in helping people and inspiring them to do good things and inspire other people. Mark gazed into my eyes, his inner uneasiness subsiding like a storm coming to a rest. We said nothing to each other, not with many words anyway. All that had to be said was that he knew he had been wrong about the mayor and that he had to control his violent temper in the future. As the Sunday morning slowly turned into a Sunday noon, we kissed, stood up, walking through our living room into a still darkened bed chamber. Once in there, we undressed and made passionate love, rediscovering the symbiosis of nuptial bliss. Doing so, we realized that all the revolutionaries had been wrong. The Hippie Generation had been right. Making love and not war was the right way to go. If physical or spiritual, love certainly was the answer. In fact, I believed then and there, laying there in my husbands arms, feeling his gender thrust inside me and intensely explode his semen into my body, that there was no such thing as physical love. Love, always spiritual and always tender, answered every one of my inquiries. This inquiry had almost conjured up eternal hell. It brought me heaven. And the gun that lay on the living room table belonged far away from our grasp. Mark had experienced a quick anger based on a false piece of information and he would have made himself a criminal because of that information. That didnt happen. Our guardian angels stopped that from happening. In fact, we had been saved. Could love beat corruption? We could only wait and see. We were making love and that was all that mattered.

Love & Corruption (Short Story) Part 2

Silly,Mark screamed again and I jumped. I heard something heavy drop on what mustve been the gun being thrown on the living room table. Josie, that guy is cutting funds for culture and education so often that we soon will not have no money to educate our young with. We wont be able to keep all the departments running. Damn hypocrite. Mark rushed out on the balcony and I felt a stinging pain in my side as he stood beside me. His anger scared me. His intensity became too overpowering for me. He stamped his foot on the balcony floor; he banged his fist on the railing, frothed at the mouth and breathed heavily. I took one long look at him, examining his ill will and suddenly I had the sensation of looking at a lunatic. I couldnt take him seriously. One thought crossed my mind and I glanced back at that Colt .45 lying on the dark brown table. Without further ado, I rushed into the living room and away from the balcony, setting my half full coffee cup down on the table in the process. I didnt wait. I picked up that heavy and really dangerous thing; let it rest in my hand, very much realizing that this weapon was the cause of so much ill will and so many calamities. The click was subtle and as I checked the gun for bullets I saw there were none there. Not one single bullet in that damn thing. Mark still stood out there and probably knew that I was checking that weapon. He still stomped his foot, bashed his fist, frothed and breathed heavily. I know, Josie. No bullets. No damn bullets. The bullets are in the safe in my office. I have never used them. I wont, either. I'll sell the darned thing. Im just a chicken, a yellow-belly that has no other agenda than blowing his fuses. Damn it, I am just a loud maniac with no guts. The gun lay cold and senseless in my grasp, such a neutral object the cause of so much pain. I lay it back on the table, walking out in my slippers and my bathrobe onto the balcony again. I exhaled, my breath coming out in spurts. He had called himself a coward. I couldnt believe it, but that was good news. Very good news. Mark had now stopped stomping, bashing and frothing. A sad and resigned posture came over him as he shuffled over to the balcony table and sat down. I remained standing where I stood, looking at him and from time to time glancing over my shoulder at the gun that lay there on the living room table. To me, at the time at least, it seemed poignant that the gun lay there on the table unloaded and that he had been waving it about like crazy a moment ago. I remembered myself reaching for the kitchen knife and stabbing it around like crazy in the empty and lonely and hot air after a horribly bad business meeting. I sighed, looking at the man I had married out of love. How I had admired him and still admired him. His wit, his brains, his spirit was an inspiration. How difficult he also could be. Why are you so intense, Mark? I took his hand, caressed it, lift it and kissed it. He looked at his own hand with the remainder of my damp kiss. I left my hand lying on his lap as he withdrew his hand in irritation. I dont know. Maybe I am just a dumbass.? I shook my head, laughing cynically to myself more than to him. No, just intense. Mark looked out onto the forest that lay close to our apartment. His eyes searched the skies for clouds. I could see that he desperately wanted to understand what was happening and why he reacted this way. I wish I hadnt opened my mailbox. You found the mail from the university in the internet just now? He nodded. I was so angry I felt like killing someone. I caressed him again. That wouldnt solve anything. That would certainly eliminate the bad guys. And turn you into one.? How so? Every revolution in history has ended in a crisis. Mark looked up at me, baffled, still slumped over like a monkey in his depression. Whats revolution got to do with this? Our eyes met. It was an intense gaze, a familiar gaze that astounded me. Rather quaint, rather honest, rather open, rather hopeful, rather expectant. Everything. I paused, waiting. Then I spoke, knowing I had to because he wouldnt. You wanted to kill the mayor just like the peasants of Paris wanted to kill Marie Antoinette in 1789. But ten years later, Napoleon came and crowned himself emperor and turned back the clock. It was as if nothing had happened and thousands of people had died for that nothing. The same thing happened in ancient Rome. They killed Julius Caesar because he wanted to make himself a dictator. What happened? Mark looked at me with that open gaze of his. No anger there anymore, he was obviously keen on calming down. His death eventually gave birth to the empire Rome. So the opposite of what they wanted came true. Just like in France. Revolutions are pointless. Mark looked out into the morning sunrise. That happened in the Soviet Union, as well. I never thought of that. I laughed. It surprises me, you being a historian and all. I mean, the Russian Tsar Regime tumbled by the communist hands because they hated the absolutism. But come on, what happened made it worse. Communism turned into a worse dictatorship than anything the Tsars ever could have come up with. KGB, Illuminati, Bilderberg, Skull and Bones, Mark said. We have to fight oppression and corruption somehow. I shrugged, closing my eyes in a kind of soft and resigning gesture. We have to find other ways to raise awareness. I dont know how long we sat there watching the sunrise, but I really felt like we were experiencing the peaceful rest after a storm. At least until Marks cellular phone started making noises. A series of small bleeps emerged and I was left there on the balcony hoping that he wouldnt take the gun in his hand and go into the office in order to get the bullets. I prayed, oh, how I prayed for his safe return without the gun. My heart pumped my blood quicker and quicker around my veins. I saw myself divorcing my husband because of irreconcilable differences. In actual fact, I would be saving myself from having to deal with his anger, even if it was just rage that was directed at others. But Mark returned happily to the balcony, not with the gun but with his Samsung Smartphone. That made me laugh. My husband came back not with a gun, but with a phone. He was smiling from ear to ear.

Love & Corruption (Short Story) Part 1

I feared for my life. I had to admit that to myself. It wasnt so much that I had not seen him angry before, it was only that I now saw him waving that gun around and screaming like a maniac. Sure, my intensity also knew no bounds and I could also be seen waving my hands about and shouting. But I would never grab a gun in rage, especially not here at home and especially not in front of Mark. I didnt even know why we had the damn thing here, anyway. Mark and I had often been seen screaming at each other at such a loud volume that our neighbors threatened to call the cops on us. Mark's boss, Principal Ishaan Gupta, had once told Mark that if he controlled his temper he had a promising career as an Egyptologist ahead of him. Not only did Mark inspire his students, he also assisted in plenty excavations and that gave Mark an extra advantage as a lecturer. He could tell the students more about mummification and more about archeology because he had had first-hand knowledge. But with his short temper as intense as it was right now, blowing his fuses was easy and the principal of the university threatened to fire him if he didnt calm down. So, here I was, the balcony door open and wind in my hair, clutching my coffee cup and watching my husband clutching not a coffee cup, but a Colt .45, ranting and raving like a criminal because he wanted to go kill the mayor. That bastard, he screamed, he cut the funds the history department has been receiving for years. We need those damn funds. We need education in this country. The world is going down the tubes as it is. Without education the world is lost. I will go to that frigging maniac and I will pull this trigger in his face and splatter blood all over his million dollar Armani suit. I will blow his brains out. Those last words rang out past the open balcony door and onto the empty Sunday street. A dog barked, a gust of wind ruffled my hair and I felt a tear rolling down my right cheek. The edges of my mouth twitched. I stuttered, wondering if the words I wanted to utter would help him calm down or force him to actually take closer action and really go through with it. He wont be in his office today, I whispered. If you want to shoot him, you have to find out where he lives or wait until the morning. But I wont visit you in jail, dear. Mark looked at me with those wide open and crazy eyes of his. I saw those wheels in his head turning, the cogs clicking like crazy along with the trigger. I tried to decipher if there were bullets in that gun. If not, I could go up to him and take away the gun. He was not angry at me, but I wouldnt be taking any chances. Youre scaring me, Mark, I said, taking one step out on our balcony. I lift my coffee cup to my unmade morning lips, Revlon yet a stranger to them and LOreal yet a mystery to my tired cheeks. The coffee was strong, infecting my heart and making it thump hard in my chest, so hard that I felt it beating in my throat. The coffee didnt help either, but I felt my coffee-addiction soaring to new heights as I held it to my cute and decorative bosom. That odd feeling of an irregular heartbeat caused by overpowering stress now completely dominated my existence. Mark would never hurt me. That much was sure. But his finger on the trigger could easily slip and turn a difficult situation into a catastrophe. I took a deep breath and spoke to him, my head glancing over my shoulder. Mark, put the gun away. There is no need for nonsense like that. You cant change anything by being silly.

A time for letting go..?

When do you know when it's time to let go..? Is it the moment when your heart is broken, shattered, but you can still feel the piercing pain in every single piece..?
When do you realize that you're losing yourself trying to hold on to someone else.? Is it when you look into the mirror and don't recognise your own self..?
You just wake up one morning and wonder.. What have I done to myself..? You just wake up one day and feel..nothing.. you feel empty.. Shoud you panick..? Should this darkness make you fear what you have become..? No.. you're contempt with the emptiness.. It's like a painkiller, numbing the ache deep in your chest.. It doesn't hurt to think about it anymore.. You go through your memories in a robot like way,  reluctantly trying to figure out which one will bring back the mind numbing pain that leaves you breathless.. But it doesn't come.. No.. this time it doesn't come.. you've been burned way beyond the third degree..
The days pass.. you think you've let go.. you stop thinking about it as time goes by.. you stop thinking all together.. you think it's done and over.. The worst has pass.. You start trying.. to put your life that was left in ruins back together.. You laugh again.. It feels good.. Strange at first.. Like the muscles on your face were frozen because they hadn't been used for so long.. But you can feel it.. the colour coming back to your cheeks.. the energy coming back to your seemingly tired body.. there's still a hollow place in your chest though.. were your heart used to be.. you ignore it as best you can.. Going about your everyday life as if nothing has happened.. you back to your usual schedule.. you start going out.. You've perfected the art of suppression and denial.. Before you realize it, months have past.. You've lied to yourslef for so long, you think the lie has turned into the truth..
    But reality always hits you hard and fast.. He's  back..  It's been so long.. you panick.. you tendery prod your memories, testing for any pain.. you feel the numbness subsiding.. there's a slight ache.. your heart, which has been silent for so long picks up a beat and starts beating rapidly.. He's here.. you repeat again and again in your awestruck mind.. he's back.. but no.. no..you feel nothing.. yu stll feel nothing.. you try your hardest to convence yourself that nothing has changed.. his back in town not back in your life.. For how much longer will you keep lyng to yourself though..? Your suddeny torn in two.. you want to see him.. you want to touch him one more time.. but.. no.. you can't.. if you do you'll unravell.. you know it.. all that you've held in for so long will burst out , like the rivers that flood and burst through the damm..
It's inevitable though.. of course you see him.. He's part of your life.. Your in full blown panick by now.. Your trying deperately to protect yourself.. You can't feel that way again.. You avoid eye contact.. Those eyes.. those eyes will be the and of you.. those eyes look right through to your soul.. you know that.. and he can't know.. he can't know what he did to you.. you don't want to hurt him.. you don't want him to see..
You realize then and there. you hadn't let go.. all those feelings have been there the whole time.. lingering.. they're still there.. all the love and devotion.. still there.. untouched.. unchanged.. It takes one look.. one kiss.. you're back where you started.. you're losing him again but you're trying desperately to hold on.. you know now.. it will never go away.. this feeling.. but the pain is nearly gone now.. he makes it all go away.. this time he goes.. you say goodbye with a smile on your face.. wait until he's gone until the tears spill out.. but in a way you are content.. you take a deep breath.. the air has changed.. you can taste it on your tongue..Now a new chapter starts.. You have to choose.. do you want to close the book..? or keep on writing.. it's your choice now..
And you just sit and wonder.. Is it time for letting go..?

Love Is Not Eternal

Τίποτα δεν κρατάει για πάντα, το ίδιο ισχύει και στην περίπτωση της αγάπης. Πώς περιμένεις δύο σπίρτα να είναι αναμένα μια ζωή; Τι σόι οφθαλμαπάτη είναι αυτή; Είναι όμορφη όμως και ζείς μέσα της. Είναι ρομαντικό να πιστεύεις σε κάτι τέτοιο. Να πιστεύεις πως η στιγμή που βλέπεις κάποιον και σταματάει ο χρόνος, που νιώθεις πως τον θέλεις και τελικά καταλήγεις μαζί, θα κρατήσει αιώνια.
Πως θα έχεις ένα συναίσθημα που σε κάνει να πετάς για μια ζωή. Θα χαμογελάτε μαζί, θα τραβάτε τα δύσκολα μαζί και θα ξεπερνάτε κάθε εμπόδιο μαζί. Ο κόσμος σου φαίνεται σαν στιγμηότυπα απο φωτογραφική μηχανή. Η κάμερα της στοχεύει μόνο στα σημαντικά. Κόβει τα αρνητικά και όταν τα πράγματα δυσκολεύουν, με ένα κλίκ βγάζει μια καινούρια, χαμογελαστή φωτογραφία. Φταίει και η κοινωνία όμως...Αχ, ρομαντική κοινωνία. Μας έμαθε πως ο έρωτας και η αγάπη είναι αιώνια πλάσματα. Έρχονται μια μέρα και μένουν. Γιατί υποτίθεται πως ότι μένει, αξίζει. Σίγουρα όλοι μας έχουμε έναν φίλο ή φίλη, που έχει αυτήν την υπέροχη σχέση, που δεν τσακώνονται ποτέ και έχουν ένα τηλεπαθητικό επίπεδο επικοινωνίας απο άλλον πλανήτη.

Ζηλεύεις..Παραδέξου το. Εσύ, εγώ, όλοι μας ζηλεύουμε. Αναρωτιέσαι...Εγώ γιατί να μην το έχω αυτό; Γιατί δεν συμβαίνει και σε μένα; Τι κάνω λάθος; Πολλές ερωτήσεις, με μια απλή απάντηση. Δεν κάνεις τίποτα λάθος. Είσαι μια χαρά. Μια σχέση βασίζεται στους συμβιβασμούς και τις υποχωρήσεις που είναι διατεθιμένος να κάνει κάποιος. Δεν ξέρεις τι κρύβεται απο πίσω. Οι μόνοι που ξέρουν είναι αυτοί που είναι μέσα σε αυτή την σχέση. Το ένα μέρος, μπορεί να κάνει υπερβολικούς συμβιβασμούς για να ευχαριστήσει το μέρος Νο2. Να αναπνέει και για τους δύο. Να ζεί και για τους δύο. Να χαμογελάει και για τους δύο. Όλα αυτά όμως μαζεύονται και το επερχόμενο ΜΠΑΜ, δεν το σταματάει ούτε ο Μπάτμαν. Και μετά τί; Μετά.... πέφτει ένας τεράστιος κουβάς βροχής, πάνω στα δύο σπίρτα και σβήνουν για πάντα. Δεν υπάρχει σωτηρία. Δεν μπορούν να ξανά ανάψουν με κανένα τρόπο. Η κοινωνία βέβαια, βάζει για άλλη μια φορά το χεράκι της και χώνει την μύτη της μέσα στις σχέσεις, με έναν universal όρο που λέει: Όταν αγαπάς κάποιον, μένεις μαζί του.   

Μίζερος, στεναχωρημένος, σε χάλια μαύρα.

Μένεις εκεί, να κοιτάς κάτι που αγάπησες και να ζείς στα παλιά. Να παίζεις ξανά και ξανά το ρεφραίν του αγαπημένου σου τραγουδιού, ελπίζοντας σε ένα θαύμα. Σε μια τεράστια φωτιά που θα ξανά κάνει τα σπίρτα να ανάψουν, με μία φλόγα πιο δυνατή απο ποτέ. Φοβόμαστε το τέλος. Το τέλος μιας σχέσης, το τέλος μιας σελίδας, τον θάνατο. Δύσκολα συμφιλιώνεσε με κάτι τέτοιο. Δύσκολα το αφήνεις και λές: "Δεν πειράζει, τώρα τελείωσε". Προσπαθείς και προσπαθείς, να βγάλεις φωτογραφίες με ραγισμένο φακό. Βγαίνουν ακόμα χαμογελαστές και όμορφες (όσο μπορούν τουλάχιστον), αλλά και πάλι....Μια μικρή ρωγμή είναι στην μέση της φωτογραφίας. Μήπως είναι καιρός να αφήσεις τον παλιό φακό σου στην άκρη;  Να χαμογελάσεις για τις στιγμές που πέρασες, τις φωτογραφίες που τράβηξες και να τις βάλεις στο άλμουμ σου, έτσι ώστε να τις θυμάσαι και να νιώθεις όμορφα ή θα συνεχίσεις να τραβάς, μέχρι ο φακός να σπάσει και να χάσεις ότι πέρασες, οτι στιγμή έζησες σε λίγα δευτερόλεπτα;

Λυπάμαι..

Λυπάμαι..Λυπάμαι που δεν μπορώ να νιώσω αγάπη  τώρα πια. Λυπάμαι που δεν περίμενα να σε γνωρίσω καλύτερα. Να γνωρίσω τον πραγματικό σου εαυτό. Λυπάμαι που δεν ήμουν ποτέ αυτό που άξιζες. Λυπάμαι που δεν θα ξανά ακούσεις ποτέ την λέξη αγάπη απο μένα. Λυπάμαι που δεν μπορώ να σου πώ πως, είμαι ερωτευμένος μαζί σου. Λυπάμαι που έκανα το λάθος και σε άφησα να με ξεσκίσεις. Λυπάμαι που πήρες κάθε κομμάτι μου μαζί σου, όταν έφυγες. Κάποτε είχα καλοσύνη, αλλά όταν καταλαβαίνεις πως ο κόσμος γυρίζει γύρω απο τα ψέματα άλλων, όταν δεν θέλεις να είσαι απλά ένα πιόνι, όταν φτάνεις σε ένα σημείο που σιχάθηκες να σε εκμεταλεύονται για τα δικά τους συμφέροντα, όταν σε πατάνε κάτω λόγω της καλοσύνης σου τότε, γίνεσαι και εσύ ίδιος και χειρότερος με αυτούς. Γινεσαι ίδιος και αρχίζεις να τους τρώς..Έναν, έναν, χωρις έλεος. Αλλά αυτό, τρώει και εσένα. Σε τρώει σε τέτοιο σημείο, που σταματάς να νιώθεις εμπάθια. Λυπάμαι που υιοθέτησα το lifestyle του ψέματος και της δολοπλοκίας. Λυπάμαι που ό,τι κακό και να γίνει, αντι να κάτσω να νοιαστώ, βάζω την δικιά μου μάσκα και γελάω ψυχωτικά, σαν να μην με νοιάζει. Λυπάμαι που τώρα έγινα ο θύτης γιατί βαρέθηκα να είμαι το θύμα. Λυπάμαι που έγινα σαν εσένα. Λυπάμαι που χρησιμοποιώ ανήθικες μεθόδους, για να εκμεταλεύομαι ανθρώπους, έτσι ακριβώς όπως μου έμαθες. Λυπάμαι που εκδικούμαι όποιον μου φέρθηκε άσχημα, αλλά δεν αγγίζω εσένα. Λυπάμαι που δεν με νοιάζει πια η καλοσύνη και αρκούμαι στην δική μου ηθική ικανοποίηση. Λυπάμαι που έγινα κενός....Αλλά πιο πολύ απο όλα..

 Λυπάμαι που δεν λυπάμαι για τα παραπάνω.

Το Μεγάλο Καταστροφικό Φινάλε

Προφανώς και θα επιβιώσεις μέσα απο αυτήν την φυλακή. Πάντα επιβιώνουμε. Έχουμε την θεική δύναμη να μαζεύουμε τα κομμάτια μας, να τα δένουμε με σελοτέιπ και πάντα μα πάντα, όσο σπασμένοι και να είμαστε, συνεχίζουμε και προχωράμε μπροστά. Με πραγματικό χαμόγελο. Ένα χαμόγελο που θα μπορούσε να χωρίσει ηπείρους, ένα χαμόγελο που θα σταματούσε κάθε πόλεμο. Με τα χέρια μας σφιγμένα για να μην τρέμουν, για να μην δεί κανείς πόσο πραγμάτικα σπασμένοι είμαστε, βαθιά μέσα μας. Πάντα όμως φοράμε μάσκα. Δεν φοράνε μόνο οι άλλοι. Μην βγάζουμε και την ουρίτσα μας έξω. Όλοι οι άνθρωποι, ψεύδονται. Λένε ψέματα για διάφορους λόγους. Γιατί θέλουν κάτι, γιατί χρειάζονται κάποιον, γιατί θέλουν να κερδίσουν κάτι ή απλά επειδή έτσι έμαθαν.
Ο σκοπός όμως σε αυτή την περίπτωση, δεν αγιάζει τα μέσα. Μπορεί ένα ψέμα να είναι αθώο αλλά δεν παραμένει ψέμα. Δεν λέω πως είμαι τέλειος και πως δεν έχω πεί ποτέ μου ψέματα. Έχω πεί και μάλιστα μεγάλα. Αυτό που θέλω να πώ όμως, είναι πως στα μάτια του άλλου, μικρό ή μεγάλο, το ψέμα είναι απλά ψέμα. Πληγώνει, κοροιδεύει και χειραγωγεί. Τα ψέματα αυτά, φέρνουν καταιγίδες και τυφώνες σε μια σχέση. Άκρως καταστροφικά φαινόμενα που είναι αναπόφεκτα. Τυφώνες θα έρθουν πολλοί. Κανείς δεν είναι τέλειος και πόσο μάλλον μια σχέση μεταξύ 2 ατόμων. Το τέλειο δεν το αγγίζει, για να μην πώ πως ούτε καν το βλέπει. Παρόλα αυτά, όχι μόνο μπορεί να το δεί, μπορεί και να το ξεπεράσει. Αυτό προϋποθέτει βέβαια, δύο ώριμα άτομα που ξέρουν τι θέλουν και είναι διατεθιμένα, δίχως δισταγμό να μπούν στο μάτι του κυκλώνα.

Όπως έχουμε πεί όμως, τίποτα δεν διαρκεί παντοτινά. Μερικές φορές δυστυχώς, βγαίνουμε μόνοι μας απο τον τυφώνα. Αιμόφιρτοι, χωρις ελπίδα. Μετανιωμένοι που μπήκαμε εκεί μέσα και ρισκάραμε την ζωή μας για κάποιον άλλον. Είναι όμως τόσο κακό όσο φαίνεται; Πολλοί ίσως να πούνε ναί. Έχω μια διαφορετική άποψη όσο αναφορά το συγκεκριμένο θέμα. Ναί...Ξέρω πως ότι γράφω είναι καταθιλιπτικό αλλά τα πάντα έχουν μέσα τους, μια μικρή αχτίδα ήλιου και ελπίδας.
Το φώς δημιουργεί σκιά. Το απόλυτο σκοτάδι είναι ένα ψέμα και η ηλιόλουστη μέρα, είναι απλά η απουσία αυτού του ψέματος στην ζωή μας. Δεν μπορούμε να αποφύγουμε πολλά πράγματα. Μα μπορούμε να τα δούμε απο μια εντελώς διαφορετική όπτική γωνία. Μια νύχτα κόλασης, μπορεί να μετατραπεί σε μια νύχτα εμπειριών και αυτο-συλλογισμού. 3+1=4 αλλά 2+2=4. Τα πάντα είναι οπτική γωνία. Είσαι εσύ με την καμερά σου. Πρέπει να βρείς τις σωστές γωνίες, έτσι ώστε να φτιάξεις την ταινία της ζωής σου. Θυμίσου όμως, όσο αυτό και αν μας πονάει. Είμαστε οι σκηνοθέτες. Εμείς βγάζουμε τους κανόνες, εμείς διαλέγουμε τους κεντρικούς ρόλους της ζωής μας, όπως επίσης και το θέμα  της. Μπορεί να θέλεις να είναι τραγωδία αλλα να έχει καλό τέλος, η το αντίθετο. Να αρχίζει όμορφα και να τελειώνει όπως μόνο εσύ ξέρεις. Όπως και να έχει, ο σωστός σκηνοθέτης θα αποτύχει και θα μάθει. Στο τέλος, μέσα απο όλους τους τυφώνες και τα λάθη του, θα τελειοποιήσει το αριστούργημα του και πίστεψέ με. ΟΛΟΙ ΘΑ ΤΟ ΔΟΥΝ! ΣΕ ΟΛΟΥΣ ΘΑ ΑΡΕΣΕΙ! Για αυτό κανόνισε να είσαι εκεί στο φινάλε της πρεμιέρας σου. Να ακούσεις τα ασταμάτητα χειροκροτήματα των φίλων, των εχθρών, των πρώην, τών καλών και των κακών. Το φώς δημιουργεί και καλές και κακές σκιές. Το αν θα κόψεις απο το πλάνο σου τις κακές ή  αν θα τις κάνεις να φαίνονται πανέμορφες απο μια άλλη οπτική γωνία, είναι δικιά σου επιλογή. Θα επιβιώσεις όμως. Πάντα επιβιώνουμε. Για αυτό κανόνισε. Κανόνισε να είσαι εκεί στο φινάλε.

Love And Other Drugs

Πίσω στο θέμα αγάπης. Καλό μήνα κιόλας. Επιτέλους έπιασε λίγο ζέστη. Άνοιξη μπαίνει και μαζί της, τιτιβίζουν πουλάκια, ανθίζουν λουλουδάκια και άλλα πολλά τέτοια. Η άνοιξη είναι η εποχή του ζευγαρώματος και του έρωτα. Tί είναι όμως η αγάπη; Πάντα πίστευα πως είναι μακράν, το καλύτερο ναρκωτικό EVER. Ένα συναίσθημα, που ριζώνει για τα καλά στην καρδιά σου και σε κάνει να νιώθεις διαφορετικά πράγματα, κάθε φορά που κοιτάζεις αυτόν που αγαπάς. Μερικές φορές νιώθεις δυνατός, με ένα βλέμμα του/της, μπορείς να κάνεις τα πάντα. Πάς κόντρα στον καθένα που στέκεται εμπόδιο στον δρόμο της αγάπης σου.  Βράζεις μέσα σου, πετάς στα σύννεφα, χαμογελάς και κάθε μέρα, είναι καινούρια μέρα, γεμάτη όμορφιες και ενδιαφέροντα πράγματα να ανακαλύψεις. Η αγάπη έχει τεράστια δύναμη. Μπορεί να κάνει ακόμα και τον πιο μαύρο και μίζερο άνθρωπο να λυγίσει. Να φέρει χαρά στα χείλη κάποιου που είναι δυστυχισμένου. Μιλάμε για τρελή μαστούρα. Θυμίζει κάτι σε, LSD ή οποιοδήποτε άλλο ναρκωτικό, το οποίο σε κάνει και βλέπεις οπτασίες και οφθαλμαπάτες.
Μια άλλη μεταφορική ιστορία για να συγκρίνουμε την αγάπη, σε κάτι ποιο ανθρώπινο, είναι αυτή του περιστεριού. Η αγάπη είναι σαν ένα περιστέρι. Αυτό το περιστέρι, περνάει απο πάνω σου συνέχεια και σε κάνει κυριολεκτικά ΣΚΑΤΑ. Την εκατοστή πρώτη φορά που θα περάσει, αντί να σε κάνει χάλια, σου δίνει ένα μπισκότο. Άχ.....Αυτό το μπισκότο. Είναι το καλύτερο μπισκότο που έχεις φάει στην ζωή σου ολόκληρη. Και το όλο θεματάκι μπαίνει στο repeat. Δεν λέω, μεγάλη μαγκιά να υπομένεις, να ποντάρεις και να συμβιβάζεσαι, αλλά σκέφτεται κανείς τα side-effects του ναρκωτικού αυτού;

Πως είναι να νιώθεις πως, όλος ο κόσμος είναι δικός σου και ξαφνικά να σου καίνε τα πάντα;
Πώς είναι να νιώθεις όλος ο κόπος σου και οι αξίες σου να καταπατούνται, μέσα σε διάστημα δευτερολέπτων;
Πως είναι να νιώθεις ο ίδιος άνθρωπος που σε αγάπησε, τώρα να σε έχει προδώσει;

Νόμιζες πως ήξερες τι είχες απέναντι σου, πως θα τελείωνε κάποια στιγμή, αλλά όχι έτσι. Και αυτό το γαμώτο, τρώει τα σωθηκά σου και το μυαλό σου. Μάσκες πέφτουν, και η μεγάλη σκοτεινή κουρτίνα της σκηνής που νόμιζες οτι πρωταγωνιστούσες ανεβαίνει και η αλήθεια αποκαλύπτεται. Νόμιζες πως ήσουν ο πρώτος, ο καλός, αυτός που είχε τον πρώτο ρόλο και τελικά; Κενό. Το βλέμμα σου, η ψυχή σου, η καρδιά σου, βλέπεις ό,τι έχεις φτιάξει με ιδρώτα να χάνεται μπροστά σου. Είσαι απλά, άλλο ένα πιόνι στο παιχνίδι του, απαγορευμένου. Ένα μικρό στρατιωτάκι που προχωρούσε μόνο μπροστά, όταν το διέταζαν. Χωρίς επιστροφή, χωρίς γυρισμό, απλά μπροστά, με παροπίδες στα μάτια για να μην βλέπεις δίπλα σου και να χαίρεσαι που τρώς τα άλλα πιόνια, ελπίζοντας πως στο τέλος, θα πάρεις την προαγωγή που αξίζεις και θα γίνεις μεγάλος και τρανός. Πήρες μέρος σε μια τραγωδία, ενώ νόμιζες πως είναι ρομαντική κομεντύ. Πως στο τέλος, θα είχες το happy ending σου ό,τι και να γινόταν. ΜΠΑΜ! Έρχονται και τα side-effects. Κομμένα φτερά και η πτώση σκληρή. Το κοπλιμέντο: "Απο τον παράδεισο έπεσες;" δεν φαίνεται τόσο όμορφο πια. Γιατί όταν γεύεσαι τον παράδεισο, δεν υπάρχει επιστροφή. Εθίζεσαι στο συναίσθημα αυτό. Την συντροφιά, το άγγιγμα που έκανε το σώμα σου να ανατριχιάζει ολόκληρο και να αισθάνεται ρήγος να το διαπερνά, μέσα απο την σπονδυλική του στήλη. Τα βράδια γίνονται αξημέρωτα και οι όμορφες αναμνήσεις, γίνονται κολασμένοι εφιάλτες. Οι τύψεις και οι ερωτήσεις σε τρώνε όπως τα σκουλήκια το πτώμα. Η ζωή σου ολόκληρη αρχίζει και διαστρεβλώνεται. Τί είναι αλήθινό; Τί  είναι ψεύτικο; Τι εννοούσε πραγματικά και τι όχι; Όλο σου το είναι θολώνει και βλέπεις τα πάντα, πίσω απο έναν ραγισμένο καθρέφτη. Τον χτυπάς και φωνάζεις για βοήθεια. Χρειάζεσαι κάποιον να σε βγάλει απο αυτή την φυλακή, που στην αρχή φαινόταν όμορφη και στην συνέχεια έγινε ένα κλουβί 2 επι 2, αλλά κανείς δεν σε ακούει. Τα πάντα είναι ηχομονωμένα και η κάθε προσπάθεια σου είναι μάταιη. Το μόνο που απομένει είναι να κλειστείς στην γωνία σου και να προσπαθήσεις να γυρίσεις με την φαντασία σου στα παλιά. Τότε που περνούσες καλά, που η γή υπήρχε κάτω απο τα πόδια σου, μπάς και σωθείς απο αυτόν τον εφιάλτη και τελικά επιζήσεις.