When the sun chased the rain away

I love my country’s sun because it casts away gloomy thoughts and saves me from cloudy dreams and melodies. The sun warms up my pieces and makes my heart smile. Behind its warmth and shininess, lies this miserable fog that I keep most of the days away. Yet this paradox occurs and it feels like it always has done.

I long these far away trips, that end up in countries, dark and cold. I find comfort in relapse and at first, I enjoy it so much that I forget why I liked the sun in the first place. But suddenly when I realise what they’re drawing on the surface, I always rush to book my ticket back home. And I usually manage to be on time for my departure. And every single time, I watch out of the window as the plane is taking off. I wave goodbye to the coldness but I feel so broken hearted because I already know that I’ll miss it so much and I’ll regret my decision to go back.

Some people decide. Others let life decide for them. Some sleep on the ground, other find uncomfort in their comfortable beds. So here’s to you, my shiny blue sea and here’s to you my wonderful fog. I might see you again, but I’m not sure where I’d choose to stay.

 

Ae Fond Kiss

by Robert Burns
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears   I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, naecheerfu’ twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.
 –
I’ll ne’er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy;
But to see her was to love her;
Love but her, and love forever.
Had we never lov’d sae kindly,
Had we never lov’d sae blindly,
Never met—or never parted—
We had ne’er been broken-hearted.
 –
Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace. enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears   I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee!
[This indistinctive whisper caresses the ear of the sleeping girl, 
poems and wines and fears all mixed together in a very end, 
Kind shall be the lips that kiss one’s eyes goodbye 
Though deep might be the cries 
which covers these days with lies.]

les marionettes

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Η επισημότητα περιττεύει όταν οι καταστάσεις αφορούν θέματα καρδιάς, μωρό μου. Έχει χαθεί πια ο πόθος των λέξεων. Έχει χαθεί η σπίθα της στιγμής και η υπόνοια της εμπνεύσεως. Η παιδικότης πια έχει γυρίσει το κεφάλι κι εμείς έχουμε απομείνει στην ίδια σκηνή με τις κουρτίνες ολάνοιχτες και το κοινό απών.

Συνέβη αυτή η παραδοξότητα, πάλι, ξανά. Μου εδόθη αυτό που ποθούσα και με βασάνιζε η απουσία του και τώρα δεν ξέρω πώς να το αρνηθώ. Σαν τη φωτιά που προσπαθείς να ανάψεις με τις τσακμακόπετρες, και προσπαθείς προσπαθείς μετά μανίας, να αποδείξεις πόσο καλά γνωρίζεις τι θα πει δημιουργία, και όταν δεις αυτό την σπίθα να πετάγεται και να επέρχεται η καύση, δεν μπορείς πια να σταματήσεις εκεί που είχες βάλει αρχικά τα όρια. Και το δάσος καίγεται. Από το δικό σου χέρι.

Χαίρε δημιουργέ! Η καταστροφή πάει χέρι χέρι μαζί σου.

Κοιτάζω τις κόρες των ματιών σου, πόσο εύκολα διαστέλλονται. Ξαπλώνω πάνω στο στήθος σου για να ακούσω πώς ουρλιάζει η καρδιά σου. Χορεύει σε ρυθμό πρωτόγνωρο. Σε σκουντώ κάθε που παραμιλάς στον ύπνο σου σε μια γλώσσα ανοίκεια. Δεν ξέρεις να την μεταφράσεις για να φτάσει και στα δικά μου αυτιά. Ούτε όμως και προσπάθησες ποτέ.

Το σπίτι όπου αγρυπνώ είναι μεγάλο και μυρίζει νοτισμένο ξύλο. Δεν μου αρέσουν τα παράθυρα δίχως θέα. Ποτέ μου δεν τα άντεξα. Εσένα δεν σε νοιάζει, παίρνεις το παράθυρό σου μαζί όπου κι αν πας. Σε βλέπω από την μέσα πλευρά του, με τα παντζούρια τα σφραγισμένα. Σηκώνομαι κάπου κάπου, παραμερίζω το χέρι σου από τους ώμους μου και κλείνω την πόρτα πίσω μου. Βρίσκω τα κρυμμένα σου τσιγάρα ανάμεσα σε όλα όσα χώνεις αδιάφορα στα ντουλάπια, παρατημένα κι αυτά, και σου κλέβω ένα. Το καπνίζω ολόκληρο, τραβώντας αργά κάθε τζούρα, κοιτάζοντας από το παράθυρο του μπάνιο τους γείτονες που μόλις έβαλαν τα παιδιά τους για ύπνο. Παρατηρώ αυτή την τελετουργία σχεδόν κάθε βράδυ. Πώς η μητέρα σκύβει πάνω από την κούνιfdaa6804a03ee91a339ef77318cd86adα και κάνει να φιλήσει το περιεχόμενό της. Μετά σηκώνεται, τοποθετεί το βιβλίο που κρατά κάθε βράδυ στα χέρια της, στο ίδιο εκείνο σημείο της μικρής κρεμ βιβλιοθήκης, σβήνει το φως και τραβά την πόρτα πίσω της ως να γείρει.

Το φως στην κουζίνα του κάτω ορόφου παραμένει ανοιχτό, καθώς οι παιδικές ανάσες πλημμυρίζουν το επάνω δωμάτιο. Η μητέρα βρίσκει τον πατέρα να καπνίζει κι εκείνος. Χαϊδεύει τον ροοστάτη και στο ημίφως που δημιουργείται, αρχίζουν να γαμιούνται σιωπηλά, κάνοντας τις σκιές τους να χορεύουν στον απέναντι τοίχο, σαν τις μαριονέτες του Κισλόφσκι. Εάν κατέβαιναν τώρα τα παιδιά και τους έβλεπαν, θα κοιτούσαν με την ίδια ανίκητη προσοχή. Τι παράδοξο να είσαι χειριστής μαριονετών. Σε κάνει να νιώθεις πως ίσως και να μπορείς να ελέγξεις ακόμα και τη δική σου ζωή. Ως που να δεις εκείνο το γνώριμο βλέμμα να μην κοιτά την ιστορία που πλέκεις με τα χέρια σου, μα κατευθείαν εσένα τον ίδιο στα μάτια.

Το τσιγάρο μου σώθηκε και σέρνομαι πίσω στα λευκά μας σεντόνια. Εσύ καταλαβαίνεις πως επέστρεψα, δίχως να ξυπνήσεις ολότελα, μα με καλείς να χαθώ στην αγκαλιά σου. Χαϊδεύεις τα μαλλιά μου και βυθίζεσαι ξανά στα όνειρά σου. Κουρνιάζω στη ζεστασιά του κορμιού σου και κλείνω τα μάτια. Λίγο πριν αποκοιμηθώ, ακούω ένα κοράκι να κράζει έξω από το ανοιχτό παράθυρο. Εμείς πάντοτε θα είμαστε σαν δυο μαριονέτες. Κι ας ξέρουμε να δίνουμε τις ομορφότερες παραστάσεις, γνωρίζουμε πως όλα είναι αλήθεια μονάχα πάνω στη σκηνή.

[photography: Ralph Gibson]

Arrival of the birds..

We’ve woken up as two birds. Neither he nor I ever understood how this metamorphosis happened or even where it took place. We just slept, one warm body crawled inside the other one, and it seemed like an eternity passed and we woke up when the sun was rising. Only to find wings where once our hands were twisted together. Can it be that we’ve woken up in a dream within a dream?

This flesh, once covered in skin, now is covered in feathers. You, in black and me in white, creating a perfect balance in nature. The male and the female body disappeared and this imaginary transformation doomed us in a great hell and also in the same heaven where once Adam and Eve reigned among all creatures.

Our hearts still warm on the inside, our smiles still frigid cold on the outside. Seems like nothing has changed. But our hands disappeared and now we cannot touch each other’s bodies. I long now for what it has been lost. I long for everything that was stolen. I stay silent. I open my wings, only to unfold the new version of my self. And I fly away..

We are two birds. Doomed, always to fly away.. For eternity.

You carry on and look away, feeling less everyday..

When you are not here my heart aches with pain from a healed wound. But then again, when you’re here my wound opens and bleads without an end. I remember sometimes how beautifully we were dancing by the sea, how your hand was waving back at me and how cold your hands were because your heart was warm with love for me. Mine were always warm like my heart. Oh you silly girl you were young and a child back then.

What is time and what are we now? Time passes feelings grow stronger. But there’s a point with no return, when you’re heart has nothing left to say. And I am spending all my evenings gazing at the sea, wishing to the night to hide my sorrow and smile at me. Searching for a star to whisper my wish, though I know luck won’t help me.

Every nightfall comes and goes. And my heart grows emptier with every sunset. I wish I could stop time at that moment I was trembling or even fast forward these moments that all they do is simply causing pain. I could give all I had for you once upon a time. But now our fairytale is transforming to a black ghost flying at this tender night. And Goya is smiling towards us from his grave, and my heart feels like it’s been ripped out and devoured from an evil face.

And how I long to disappear. Pack my things and leave this place. Leave my memories beside my letters. Every goodbye comes with pain and every letter I had written was full with crave. But now the sun has long set for us. And my tears are flying away. Some bitter smiles and a childish voice reminds us of who were. And the world seems so different now that we’re not the same.

I though I understood it. Once upon a time..

I thought I understood it, that I knew it. That I knew this feeling that could make your heart trumble of both desire and deprivation. But no, I had no idea. I had not a single idea that this feeling I once read in an old, worm-eaten book, stucked in a dusty library could acually be so much different in reality. That it could actually exist. 
It’s like you have in front of you someone that is very close to you and he has been quite a big part of your life. And at that moment that he asks you what he is to you, you stay silent. You froze. You cannot utter not a single word, you cannot make the slightest sound. All your thoughts are ready to burst out amid tears and laughter. Your heart loudly pulsates underneath your chest and you’re feeling an acute pain that you’re trying to bare. You want so much to admit that you’re staring into the eyes of your other half but you still have so many defences, so many fears. You’re not pure and you cannot touch the pure soul you have in front of you though you want it so much. 
You just have to say one thing. One important thing. One word is enough. You just have to say that this thing you have in your heart, this passion, this tendency, you are afraid that you’ll never get rid of it. That is never gonna faid away. That will be stuck inside your body, inside your soul, for the rest of your life. Because it’s always there. Unstoppably. And that makes you so sad and so afraid. You sad of happiness because you can actually understand it now. It’s like a miracle that you know at some point will end as soon as it fullfils it’s purpose. And you’re glad you had the chance to see magic in front of you but you are so sad of the fullstop that is coming to get your magic away. 
I thought I understood it. Not really though. It’s far greater and bigger than I could ever imagine. I didn’t realize it would be able to tear me apart and at the same time it puts all my parts together again. Even better. Each time that it’s tearing me apart I am reborned even better. I couldn’t realize anything about life. I could only see the gory bits of me. And now I still see them and I know it’s too late to find away to push them away. It’s the halves that halve you in half. But now I am a different person. Now I can see also by other side. I can see my face smiling and I like the brightness on my face. And I didn’t know any of this until it was too late. Until you asked your question and I understood the real answer. Now I’ll never be able to forget it.. 

And I almost through my writing could actually express the pure happiness I feel deep down in my soul..
Or, maybe not today. 
Nevermore.. 

Shhhhhh….

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