It's been a while...

 ...hello world, 

Are you listening? 

...hello world, 

Are you there? 

...hello world, 

Do you care? 

Who am I,

Do you remember?

Who have I been,

all this time?

Do you know,

what happened to me? 

Trapped in between

Νοιώθω πως ζω σε ένα σύμπαν παράλληλο της πραγματικότητας. Κάπως έχω απαγκιστρωθεί από το τί είναι πραγματικό και τί όχι. Ίσως νοιώθω ότι έχω χάσει τον εαυτό μου μέσα στην καθημερινότητα μου..


Βρίσκομαι σε μια πόλη που δεν με ικανοποιεί, σε ένα σπίτι που δεν μου αρέσει και γενικά σε μια κατάσταση κάπως άβολη ψυχολογικά. Γράφω πτυχιακή και νοιώθω συνέχεια στρεσσαρισμένος.

Το πόιντ είναι, αγαπητοί, ότι φτάνεις σε σημεία στα δικά σου σημεία αντοχής και δοκιμάζεις την ελαστικότητα του εαυτού σου μέσα απο την ησυχία ενός κρεββατιού και μιας τηλεόρασης και αδράνειας.

Βρίσκομαι στο σημείο καμπής. Ή θα σπάσω από την πίεση, ή θα χαλαρώσω.

Και όλο αυτό το συνοθήλευμα και η εναλλαγή συναισθημάτων και ψυχολογικών καταστάσεων με κάνει να ξεκαθαρίζω θέματα και προβλήματα μου, με έναν τρόπο ίσως βίαιο για την ψυχολογία μου. Εξοθώ τον εαυτό μου στα άκρα πριν ασχοληθώ ουσιαστικά. Είναι κάπως παράλογο, μιας και πριν πίστευα ότι έχω μία σχετική αυτογνωσία και μια σχετικά καθαρή αυτοεικόνα. Και όμως, αυτή τη φορά η αυτοεικόνα μου καταρρίπτεται και ξαναρχίζω από την αρχή σχεδόν χωρίς πυξίδα. Σαν να μην αναγνωρίζω τον εαυτό μου του παρελθόντος και σαν να μην μπορώ να συνδεθω συναισθηματικά με το παρόν. Τέλειο ε;

Πολύ συχνά έχω την αίσθηση οτι κάνω τσαπατσοδουλειές και γενικά δεν είμαι λεπτολόγος στα πράγματα. Ίσως είναι κάτι που κληρονόμησα από τον πατέρα μου. Ίσως και όχι.

Anyways, ήθελα εδώ και πολύ καιρό να μοιραστώ τις σκέψεις μου, κάτι που παλιά έκανα πιο συχνά. Δεν ξέρω καν αν το διαβάζει κανείς αυτό, λολ. 

Thank You!

Thank you vegetables,
for you are humble,
and humble you die,
for me to survive.

Thank you soil,
for you are strong,
and humble to grow,
all plants and trees.

Thank you animals!
for you sacrifice,
all that you have
for me.

Thank you animals,
for you say goodbye
to your kids and family
for me to live another day.
Oh, how I treasure this day.

Thank you water,
for you keep me flowing
by flowing through me.

Thank you rivers, and lakes and sun,
for you are everything,
I want and need.

Thank you sun,
thank you guitar,
thank you love.

UDK

You cannot tell me if I can study or not UDK Berlin.

You cannot judge if I sacrificed my whole life for design.

You cannot tell me how to live my life.

My heart wants what it wants.

If I want to be a designer, I will be a designer, either you want it or not.

Maybe not in you, but somewhere else. I'll find my harbour.

Maybe one day, you will be insignificant, and getting rejected from you will not mean anything.

Maybe one day, life will seem much better far away from Kleistpark.

Let me tell you this.

It is not over. It's never been. You fucked me up and made feel worthless, but you are nothing but another school.

I am better.

I am me.

I am here.

And I will never give up.

Never.

Alone, but not with you

Trapped in this cage,
you put me into.

Feels like hell,
but in color.

Tastes
of resentment
and bitter. 

- 

Mum, they don't like me,
the way you made me.

Mum, they don't love me,
the way you shaped me.

Mum, they go away,
like you did,
when I was only 3.

Mum, they don't accept me,
no one ever has,
not even me.

you?

Mum, I lost him,
because I didn't believe
that I deserve him.

Mum, you taught me,
that love is what you see
and I was always in the dark
for you.

Mum, I'm fat.
Mum, I'm failing.
Mum, I'm getting old.
Mum, you never gave me a chance,
Like you never gave one yourself,

Mum, I can't stay in this room,
with you.

I need to breathe,
the air of freedom,
I've craved since I was 16.

Mum, one day I'll break the shackles,
and see your prison
from afar.

You don't deserve me.
But you deserve peace.

I just can't stay,
here,
next to you,
while you're dying inside.

Mum, you'll be disappointed in me,
but it won't be the first time. 

Mum, I am a flower.
And you hid the sun.

You never let me grow,
You were afraid of what I would 
turn out to be.

Mum, blame it on me,
But set me free.

Sunday

My life is not interesting anymore. I have lost any kind of will to live and do something. Everything feels purposeless. I don't know how I will go on.

Yoga Afterpost

Soon enough I'll live somewhere else.

Soon enough I'll have a lot of money.

Soon enough I'll have you.

Soon enough I'll be somewhere else.

Soon enough I'll have peace.

Σε έχασα, Βασίλη.

Νοιώθω πως δεν με ξέρω πια,

τελευταία δεν ειμαι ο εαυτός μου.

Σε έχασα, Βασίλη. Και ποιός ξέρει πού θα σε συναντήσω.

Berlin

Your comfort zone is fake
Your comfort zone is fake
Your comfort zone is fake
Your comfort zone is fake
Your comfort zone is fake
Your comfort zone is fake
Your comfort zone is fake
Your comfort zone is fake

Everything is fake
The way you portray things is fake
People are fake
Food is fake
Everything is fake
Unless you make it real




What if I start today doing the things my soul craves?

Moritz

I'm glad you finally found someone that can accept the love you have to give.
You know I couldn't.
I pushed you away because I hate myself
I actually think I'm terrible sometimes
I grew up thinking I'm terrible
People told me I am terrible
My parents told me I am terrible
School told me I am terrible
Society told me I am terrible
Until this message was saved into me

I became terrible
I started seeing myself as terrible

There was a time that I loved myself a bit more.
That's when I met you
I thought it could be different
I could be loved
and I let you love me for a while

But that all became too much
Ghosts from the past came back to haunt me
and tell me that I'm terrible
Voices in my head saying that I don't deserve you
Or your love
And I pushed you away

We only receive the love we think we deserve,
and I thought I deserve zero

I knew you would go away to love someone else,
A voice inside me was hoping for that
so that I don't have love anymore
so that I'm back to what I know
being terrible
That's well known; it's safe

Why do I miss you?
Because you were the only person that showed me
that I can be loved
for the first time in my life.

I know there might come others,
who knows?
but you were the first,
and I will never forget that.

A part of me wants to wait forever,
Until you're back,
Moritz.

The first person that ever
dared to love.
the little scared snail in me.

And another part of me,
wants to save your memory
in a treasure box,
and move on.

I'm wide awake!

You

This text is from the 6th of July 2014. It was a draft on my E-mail. I decided not to change anything on it and post it the way it was originally written, even though some things might have been a bit over the top. 

"Sind wir wirklich mutig genug gewesen?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYCOg-yglNM

(Pause)

It’s 6:13 AM.

I want to write you so much,

(Do I take the blame for everything that happened?, Am I the bad guy the went away for no reason?, Is this how you justify it to yourself before you go to bed every night?, Is this how you boost your ego?)

I don’t want to write down 

Now it’s already 6:29 AM.

I know I need to go to bed. I need to go to sleep and forget you. Forget the problems we had. Forget the times you left me in the past. Forget the times we had to work things out.

Moritz. I don’t think I have ever loved another person so much in my life as much as I have loved you. You’re connected straight to my heart, you suck on my emotions and feelings.

I’m tired of coming back to you. I’m tired of calling you. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of keeping the hope alive. The hope that we will change and “us” can work.

You know, you know it so well, how you went away from us twice in the past. You know how I called first both of the times, telling you I LOVE YOU, I want you back. Giving a chance to us. Giving a chance to you to see what you’ve had lost. Giving a chance to me to appreciate you more.

I felt so many times that you never really liked me. Up until recently, up until some months before our break up, I couldn’t feel honesty coming from you.

I tried for more than a year. I tried so long before I went away. 

That last year, you know you were emotionally fucked up. Right after Christmas. And until the summer.

I wanted to go away for so long. But I kept trying. Trying for us. You & me, together.

I wanted to go away right before the summer. But I didn’t. I gave us a shot. I gave us my land, the gift of my world. I gave you a chance to see better who I am. To understand how I grew up.

I was brave for us. You were brave for us, coming home to my folks.

I can’t believe it’s already been a year since we were making plans to go to Greece. I can’t believe, I’m still writing to you. I can’t believe I loved you so much, that you left such a big scar on my soul.

How did I love you so much? Why did I love you so much? Why do I feel that I need to help you?

You don’t need help. You don’t need to go into your forest. You actually don’t have a forest. That is my story. That was my imagination. That is my way of coping with things. That was how I tried to show you, a way to approach your problems. But thats not yours. Nothing is yours. Not even me. Not even my feelings. Nothing will ever be yours, you can’t have a part of my soul. Even if I come back to you a thousand times, most of them were out of pity. Or insecurity. But not love. Not majestic love. CAUSE YOU NEVER LOVED ME MORE THAN YOURSELF. YOU WERE ALWAYS MORE IMPORTANT TO YOU. YOU COULDN’T SEE PAST YOUR EGO.

I should had left you the first time, when you ditched me for your Masterarbeit. ;) I would have saved us so much drama, and myself two years of mediocre sex."

Thanks for reading!

I wanted to write a post,
thankful to all the people,
that took the time to read the blog,
throughout these 8 years. :)
in good and bad,
writing has never failed me,
and since I normally dont have a place for thoughts,
(I wouldnt really trust a notebook)
this has been my place,
my peace of mind,
a really good friend.

Thank you!

Water can: you

People grow;
people mature;
people learn from the past;

but we don't.

And you'll tell me this story is old,

these things have been told already,

life is nice now.

Life is what you want it to be .
Life is what you make out of it .
Life is about your courage, is about your strength.
Its all about your balls.

The violence, the emotional violence,
the pain that staggers,
it's there to remind you,

as you grow,
and mature,
and learn from the past,
that it will always be on the notepad of your thoughts,
printed as a watermark.

It's in the whispers of your childhood,
in your favourite toy,
in the few memories,

it was printed out with your very own tears.
Always there to remind you.

Family portrait,
inexistent life,
Death as you can imagine it,
different ways, different days,
life is unexpected,
your brain freezes,
and unlocks.


Painful days,
memories of the past,
things you can't let go of,
screaming,


All this, all this love,
could be easily resolved,
if your rapist comes and says,

this is love and now I understand.

But he doesn't and probably never will.
She won't even think about it.
She shouldn't think that far.
He's not programmed this way.
Only in a way that says,
Love is food or toys,
Love is what I give to your hands,
Love is what I could give you, nothing more,
Love is not thinking about you,
Love is thinking about me,
and myself
and me
and me.
Not you.

You; the one in need,
you the one in need of nurture,
and love,
and understanding,
and focus,
and acceptance,
and all these things that make you human.
And not a toy.
Not a dog.
Not a spiderman figure.
Not the greatest grades in school.
Not food.
Nothing.

But a yes.
Yes.
Be, what you have to be.
And yes Im gonna love you.
For what it takes and gives,
in sickness and health,
in good and bad,
in trial and error,
in normal and abnormal,
in pain and in pleasure.

Dear Dad,

Your face doesn't exist in my family portrait,
Not as family,
maybe as something else,
but not as dad.
There is no version of your love,
There is no version of your care,
There is nothing,
You gave a big, fat nothing,
I realise it, the more I talk to you,
Inadequate,
Same old you, same old (now) me,

You planted a flower,
and never watered it.
You planted a seed,
and never nurtured it,
You planted a life,
and never too care of it.

You are not the owner of this plant,
The owner of this plant is the soil,
the rain,
the people passing by that watered here and there,
its about me,
dry leaves,
fungus,
and I still blossomed,
blossomed so nice that people passed by,
and found me,
and saw me,
and took me from your soil and put me else,
where I could be myself,
and make flowers,
You never liked flowers, dad.
They were too gay for you.
Well guess what, I'm gay.
My flowers are fucking gay.
And because of my malnutrition,
Ill always be weaker,
Unless I give a lot,
unless I give my whole strength,
to blossom,
to survive,
to live.

Rain. I don't need your water.
I can't drink your water,
I can't drink your poison.
I have grown without it.
Wouldn't do it now.

One day I'm gonna say: I love my job
One day I'm gonna say: I love my face

One day I'm gonna say: I love my sad

Distracted

Will I ever make my dreams come true?

What are they?
When are they ours?
When are they borrowed?

How is life in its simplest form?

How can you convince a complicated mind to think in a simple way?

Why don't I ever like my hair? Or my glasses?

How is life post-this -my shoes are never comfortable- thing?
Great?
Boring?

How about me checking out your brown bumm?

How about you getting decent education?

How about me hating my job?

And my habits? And my laziness?

When am I happy with myself?

Dear diary,
I haven't written to you in a while. Seems like we are lost in a vicious circle of hopes and freedom.

Berlin has been good. Berlin has been healing. Berlin has been a step forward. Berlin has been this big realization. This big jump to the unknown.


We've lost it all. And looked for it, looked for something new, something excitingly not dramatic. The miracle of living (on your own terms).

There it is, I see it. The poison. Neglect. I'm taking it off of my wounds, I'm squeezing it out. Will I need to cut my arm to survive? Will I need to sacrifice a part of me on the way to the other side?

Moments like this, I bring Hedwig to my mind and her memorable quotes.

I'll love you forever Hedwig.

Need some warm milk, and honey, and camille. 

Who knows?

Stars fading,
but I linger on dear,
still craving your kiss.......





και μια μέρα ξυπνάς,

και περιμένεις,

αυτό που νόμιζες δεν ήρθε ποτέ, δε θα ρθει ποτέ,



πώς; αντίδραση;


η ζωή είναι απρόβλεπτη.



οι ευκαιρίες τελειώνουν,
εκεί που τις αφήνεις,
όχι εκεί που σου λένε οι άλλοι.



ΟΧΙ.


ε και;


στο χέρι σου είναι να κάνεις το όχι - ναι,
το ξύλο βροχή,
κτλ.


λοιπόν,
σήμερα,
θα ανοίξω το γραμματοκιβώτιο μου,
και θα δω το όχι μου σαν ναι,
και τα ξύλα σαν βροχή.



και μετά θα έρθω σπίτι για coffee & tv.


so we can start over again.

and if we don't behave, we'll be hoping down on one foot, looking through one eye

Αγαπητέ μπαμπά,
τί και αν με απορρίψεις; ξανά; πόσο πολύ θα αλλάξει αυτό που είμαι;


τί είναι η αγάπη;

τί ήταν

ο Γιώργος,

ο Αντώνης,


ο Moritz ;

ένα υποκατάστατό σου;

η ανάγκη για επιβεβαίωση οτι ακόμα μ'αγαπάς,
ακόμα και αν δεν το έδειξες,
σχεδόν ποτέ,
όταν μεγάλωνα.

τί ήταν τα ξενύχτια μου μπροστά από τα βιβλία;
ένας τρόπος να σε αναγκάζω να μου λες "μπράβο";
χωρίς να γεμίζει το στόμα σου
χωρίς ψυχή.

τί είναι αυτό που με κάνει και φοβάμαι το κρύο; να βγω στο χιόνι χωρίς παπούτσια;

πότε μου έδειξες οτι το να είμαι εγώ, θα με κάνει ευτυχισμένο;

έφτασα 24 και όμως ακόμα ψάχνω, ψάχνομαι, σκίζω το πορτραίτο μου κάθε λίγους μήνες, προσπαθώ να βρω ποιά φωτογραφία ταιριάζει καλύτερα δίπλα στις δικές σας.

Και όσο το βλέπω,
και όσο τα βλέπω,
και όσο πονάω σκίζοντας με,
και ράβοντας με ξανά,
τόσο πολύ καταλαβαίνω,
οτι δίπλα σου δεν υπάρχει χώρος μπαμπά,
δεν υπάρχει χώρος για ανάσα,
κατάπιες όλο τον αέρα εσύ,
έπνιξες και τη μαμά.
τη ζωή, μια ζωή, δύο ζωές.

Άν μπορούσα να στα πω κατάματα,
θα σου λεγα,
ντροπή σου,
μόνο αυτό.
Δεν περίμενα τίποτα παραπάνω,
από ταπεινή, φτωχή, αγάπη.
Γαμημένα συναισθήματα,
όχι δώρα.

Εμένα, το δώρο που ήθελα να μου είχες κάνει.
Εμένα, ως άνθρωπο,
Εμένα, ως οντότητα,
Εμένα, ως σύνολο,
Εμένα, ως πόδια και χέρια με δύναμη,
Εμένα, ως αγάπη,
για μένα
και για τον κόσμο
και για τους ανθρώπους

Εξήγησε μου πώς θα σε σκοτώσω μέσα μου,
πώς θα γίνει το φάντασμα σου σκιά,
πώς θα σταματήσω να σε ψάχνω,
απο δω και από κει,
εκεί που δεν καταλαβαίνω,
εκεί που δεν νοιώθω.

εκεί που πάντα νοιώθω,
ότι κάπου χρωστάω,
αγάπη,
λες και δεν έδωσα ότι ειχα,
3 φορές.

αυτή λοιπόν είναι,
η απαρχή,
της αγάπης μου.

words can't bring me down

 this story
this story
this boy
this story
this boy
this story
this story
story
story
story
story of my
story of my






let's say you get born in a family in the suburbs
έτσι είναι τα παιδιά που μεγάλωσαν στα μελίσσια
και πέρασαν τα 3 πρώτα τους χρόνια στον Πειραιά

before you know it, your addiction hits
before you know it, your addiction hits
before you know it, your addiction hits
before you know it, your addiction hits

before you know it, your addiction hits

η ψυχοσύνθεση βαριά

κανείς δεν καταλαβαίνει κανένα

και ξαφνικά

φως

μαγικό

εκεί για σένα,

άπλετο

μαγικό



είμαι όμορφος αλλά ποτέ δε θα είμαι αρκετός
είσαι όμορφος αλλά ποτέ δε θα είσαι ικανός
είναι όμορφος αλλά ίσως τα καταφέρει



δίνω ευκαιρίες μόνο σε τρίτους

αυτό το τραγούδι ειναι φάλτσο
φάλτσο
φάλτσο


γιατί είμαι όμορφος, ότι και αν συμβεί

και μετά το γαμήσι που λέγεται ζωή