Who I'd like to be

All my life I've had these deep struggles with some aspects of who I am. Although I love myself (I think, I hope) I've also always been hopelessly upset with some aspects of my self, always wanting to be someone else.

Two specific examples deserve some elaboration.

I'm a hopeless shopaholic of the most ridiculous kind. I own millions of clothes and shoes, and I keep buying constantly. I like expensive things, and I also have a propensity of buying the same thing in slight variation over and over again (I think this latter is called Repetitive Shopping Syndrome or something like that, you know owning 10 million black t-shirts, grey skirts etc). I go to the shops once a week easily, also buying online at a good rate on top of that.

However, I've always wanted to be frugal, live with less, be philosophical and not care for material things. I like reading, I believe in education and I am annoyed when people judge others based on looks or other superficial things. Especially now with what is going on in Greece, I have this profound feeling of guilt as I keep spending money on shit, while my family, my friends have very very little money to live by.

My other characteristic is that I am the anti-poker face. My face always betrays what I really feel about people, situations etc. This is especially apparent in meetings much to the despair of my boss. I cannot hide my feelings, and as I often say, I have no diplomatic bone in my body. I say what I think in an awkward and un-polished way that always gets me into trouble.

On the other hand, I've always wanted to be blasé. I've always loved those heroines in the cinema that show no emotions and go about looking unimpressed. My husband is the definition of unimpressed-ness and (bizarrely) I always tease him for it.

When I thought of those two things, I felt very odd. Why have I not yet managed to understand, and accept myself? I like clothes, so what? I know it's not great, and I'd really love to be able to be frugal, but what can I do? It's who I am. I can try to be good and ethical on top of that, not instead of that. These things are not mutually exclusive.

In any case, I don't know how to end this post. I've just be thinking about all these things for a while and wanted to write them down.

Μακρυά κι αγαπημένοι

I can't really translate well the Greek saying on the title, literally translated sounds quite harsh. So, I will first write my post and translate it in the end.

I love quietness in the house. I love waking up, the sun shining through the windows and my husband not being here. (And imagine, I don't even have children). I walk around in something indecent but unsexy, I have my coffee as I want it. Most often I have no music (or at least no radio, but sometimes I play my old and forgotten CDs), and I browse on the net for a while, in silence, wasting time in stupid or mildly interesting things, just sitting there thinking. Today I even picked up an 'essential Shakespeare' handbook to brush up on my Macbeth as we are watching it tonight on the amazing Lyric theatre in Belfast.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, I love him a lot. I am an only child though, and this has shaped my self in a deep way. When I was small, I had to kill millions hours by myself. I had to learn to play by myself. I discovered early on the joy of reading for the only-child, and you would always find me in a corner not making a mess trying to occupy myself. When I was small that was my biggest worry: would I have something to do if my parents took me to place that there were no other children? I always went around with a small bag stuffed with little toys, so that I would never be left 'without something to do'. But as I spent endless hours by myself, this has become a need that transcends all my life. I love people, and I love my friends, but my mental balance depends on having time on my own to rebalance, to think, to do my things, to just be lazy, to not compromise on the music on the CD. Just to be myself. So when my husband started going for runs last year, I loved it. This year, with his new bike he leaves me for hours in the weekend as he cycles up and down the country. He comes back smily, happy, relaxed, with a clear head. Boring, un-sporty me sits at home and just rebalances, whatever makes each of us happy right?

Which brings me back to the title: Μακρυά κι αγαπημένοι, literally we love each other from afar. Not always of course, but for me at least there is always this need to just be without someone, just to sit there thinking, writing on my forgotten and neglected blog. Being 3 years old again, playing with my toys in the corner, regrouping my silly thoughts. 

When in doubt... more Korea

This is the trailer of the new American movie by OldBoy's (and the original Ladyven's of course) director Park Chan-Wook.

It looks sleek and creepy, pity it's American (much as I love Nicole Kidman)...

I posted it here because I have been so lazy and terrible in posting only once in a blue moon, that I am afraid that even the people who would like to follow this blog, would entirely give up on it.

The problem is partly social media: how many of them can one poor person sustain? Now that I've got Twitter and Instagram (thankfully still no Facebook, hurray - but what is to cheer about anyway?) how much can I do with my good old boring blog?

Mind you, I know that blogs are for a different thing, but even more so, how much time can one spend trying to do a coherent, good, interesting post? Anyone can tweet a measly 150-character word-fart (pardon my French) but a blog post should in principle be a bit more thorough...

This is not a time for being thorough, though. This is the time of being shallow, quick and epidermal.

Back to twitter then... 

Korea forever

Kim Ki-Duk's "Pieta" won the Golden Lion in Venice.

Apparently it's the story of a lonely man who is approached by a woman that claims she is his mother that abandoned him when he was a child. The story that ensues looks very much like a Greek tragedy.

"God, have mercy on us" finishes the trailer.

What is it about Korean cinema and archetypical tragic plots? I am sure someone could do a phycho-social study on the Korean psyche and tell us the answer. For me, watching their painfully tragic movies is quite enough.

Growing up, moving on

I will be 34 soon. It's a bit scary, I think. Sometimes I feel that it's not true, that it's some kind of mistake. A couple of years ago someone asked me how old I was and I instinctively replied '19'. And I meant it.

Last year was an odd year, bad things happened, at work, with 'friends' etc. But at the end of the year I felt that I was better, I felt that I had moved on from many things.

Every year, I feel the new problems coming, I can see the challenges ahead. It's hard being older, it's hard trying to be sincere, trying not to hide, trying to behave as one should.

But I guess this is the good side of growing up: by growing up you're also moving on.

And that can only be good, 34 years and all. 

Photos

Coming back home, at least for me, often entails getting distracted with old photos. I just spent a good hour looking at ancient photos that made my heart jump. Most of them were badly taken, out of focus pictures taken at times of family bliss. In them, I managed to see myself extremely thin (it doesn't even look like me), drinking a beer from a tin (I don't drink beer anymore ), hugging people I don't even know existed, hugging ancient boyfriends and hanging out with friends that I don't see anymore with their boyfriends that they broke up with in what feels like the last century.

I saw my parents young, or at least younger, my mum with a killer bikini body I never knew existed, and no lines in her face. My father young, with a beard, like I've never seen before. I also saw people that have died, and I saw them happy and alive. I saw my old pets, most of them dead, when they were young pups having their pictures taken constantly, the novelty factor not having work off (we got. A dog!!)

Sometimes it made me feel unreal as if all this wasn't me: I couldn't remember myself, the people, the place, anything and there I was laughing away, wearing clothes that I don't recognise and sporting terrible haircuts I wouldn't want to be seen dead in.

Some other times, though, my heart jumps: a picture works like an electric shock and I go back to the time and the place, I am back there, wherever there is, transported back in time. I am back being my 15 year old self, sporting a terrible haircut and clothes I don't recognise, posing for the camera, being on top of the world.

On a personal note

In Belfast, it's raining. Heavily, falling on my windows, as if it is October. But it's June.

In Greece, the conservatives are into government, with some ex-socialist losers and an opportunist small "left-wing' party that will soon go to the footnotes of History. Not "the radical left", because if it was up to them we would be out of the Euro apparently. Whatev.

In Greece again, but in the whole of Europe, neo-nazi movements are on the rise. Prominent figures note that last time the world had an austerity agenda, nazism rose. But people don't listen. Perhaps they didn't get the 'history repeating' memo? Should we give them a copy of Thucydides's Historiae? As if...

But life goes on, you know? I am leaving for Greece tomorrow. And no matter what is wrong with my country, I really want to go back and spend a month there. I want to spend a month in the heat, feeling myself again. And then get married. That's right, I am getting married this summer. I am usually working like an idiot, having no time to stop and think, but this year I will take it easy, go to Greece for a month, tan like a motherfucker and be a bride!

So, in the immortal words of the amazing Robyn: Konnichi wa bitches! Have a good summer, go to somewhere sunny and forget the woes of the world. it will all be ok, as long as there is sun...

First they came for the communists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.


(Martin Niemöller)

More and more often in my life, I find myself thinking about the above poem. These days I've been thinking about this because of how I feel of the way Greece and the Greek people have been treated by the western media. In a poignant article, economist Yanis Varoufakis tries to set the record straight. Essentially, he criticises the way the BBC have misrepresented the Greek election as a fight between a Pro-Europe group and an Against-Europe group. Don't get me wrong, there have been many many excellent analyses of the Greek crisis in foreign media, and you can have a look at some here, here, here and here (courtesy of my friend, Captain Red, as I like to call her these days). 

My estimation, which is not a very well-informed one admittedly, can only be summarised in the poem above: be careful who you don't fight for, fellow Europeans. Greece is a corrupt country with a lot of problems, but these problems are not the reason for the crisis. They just contribute to it. When the euro collapses, and the bubble of the Northern EU countries bursts, they won't have anyone to blame but themselves, because they chose to blame Greece for everything that was wrong with the EU, without realising the truth behind the problem. Then, though, it will be too late and truly there will be no one to speak out for them. 

Racism

How do we go from this:



to this:


Different as they are, they both deal with some form of racism. Real life racism vs. racism in art. The Golden Yawn rep (new term courtesy of my good friend WL) attacked people, women, live on air. He is a neo-nazi fascist, racist to the bone, of the people who go around terrorising immigrants in Greece everyday. I even saw they attacked an israeli journalist, and they they don't like the term 'neo-nazi'



I am in two minds about these people, do we need to see them in TV or not? Norway, France seem to think not. In some countries it is a crime to be a holocaust denier. Some years ago I thought we didn't need to go down this road, I like Voltaire too much "I do not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it." But these days, seeing elected representatives hitting women on live TV, I am not so sure anymore. Perhaps freedom of speech should be somehow restrained and when you are a criminal and speak and behave in a way that society has deemed as criminal and disgusting, then you have no more right to speak. 


You do however have every right to fuck off out of my face. 

The slow win

I hate Facebook, this much I am sure you know. Foolishly I thought I hated all social media (obviously forgetting I am a blogger). I guess I think blogging is not a silly social medium, or something like this.
Last week though I succumbed to the charms of instagram (those filters!). And today I joined twitter... There is no hope for me now, is there?

Missed being Greek

I've been living outside Greece for 10 years now. Seems too much sometimes if you ask me. When I first left I never thought whether that was for ever, or when I would come back. Now of course, my return seems more and more unlikely and doubtful. I live here, I work here, my fiancé is from here. Most probably I will never be able to get a job in Greece anyway.

Financial crisis aside, I often feel out of place when I go back to Greece. People shout a lot. They drive like mad. They smoke everywhere. People put too ugh oil when they cook (whereas I have to count it...) Nothing works properly. And so on and so forth.  These, of course, are stupid generalisations, but I am Greek myself so I can make them, and entirely unapologetically so. My father jokes with me often when I complain, sometimes with a hidden bitterness in his voice "why are you complaining, are you not Greek yourself?"

Sure, I am, I think. but not a real Greek surely, at least not anymore. I have been too bastardised by living in these western lands for so long.

Sometimes however, I miss my Greekness. I want to sing again, I want to dance trashy eurovison songs (Paparizou - my number one, anyone?) and go to μπουζούκια. I want to eat σουβλάκια for dinner in the warm summer outdoors. I want to stroll in the heat. I want to eat καρπούζι till I feel entirely bloated. I want to sweat so much from the heat, that I cannot put any make up on whatsoever. I want to listen to my favourite radio shows in real time. I want to watch trashy and not so trashy TV (Το νησί rules! I found it so late...) I want to know who is big in Greece these days, which songs do kids like. I want to buy Korres stuff from my local pharmacy. I want to go to my local bar and have a beer. I want to feel Greek again, I want to feel myself.

People change. Our lives change. I think I've written it before here in this blog: am I the same person I was when I was 19, living in Crete, listening to stereo nova and reading 01? Maybe. Partly. Maybe not. Yesterday I was dancing to Greek trash in my oh so proper office and it felt so out of place really, it was comical. But I felt myself again, and it was fucking fun.

Can't wait for the summer. 

Gay or European?

God bless Scott Mills. He and Sara Cox are doing Eurovision semi-finals and they're playing the game: gay or just european? You just need to see some of finalists and say whether they are gay, or just... european :-) I love this game, coming from Greece we have a lot of these ambivalent creatures there too.

What do you think about this guy then? He is the guy from Georgia.

And him, the Norwegian effort?

Pictures don't do them justice, look them up on youtube.

My point is that I love political incorrectness. I laugh like a mad do with Timmy from Southpark, and unashamedly so...

Anyway, I am sorry for this brief and largely incoherent effort. I have to return to the semi-finals. A crazy Wham! relic is singing blind-folded 'love is blind'... I will finish my important point about the usefulness of political incorrectness at some other point...

Stuff from the web

Protagon is by far my favourite new discovery, although I'm not even sure it's new. With all the things happening in Greece at the moment, when you live abroad you need a good, thoughtful, interesting and balanced site to see how things really are. Protagon is all that and much more. It is eclectic, it is pluralistic, it is interesting, it has Varoufaki's Modest Proposal for overcoming the Eurozone crisis, it even has my old linguistics professor from the University of Crete. Along with LiFO, it is my main portal of information on the Greek crisis.

On a more personal note, welcome to blogosphere diasoil, aka d/a! May your days be creative and plenty.

And finally, a new Greek magazine Ough, with interesting alternative stuff and a translation facility.

Life is continuously hard but being well-informed is crucial.

PS. Have a look at Tsipras's Guardian and NYT interviews. As a friend says, clearly people abroad take him more seriously than people within. But isn't this the Greek curse from the times of Socrates and Aristeides anyway (no comparison intended of course)? 

To hope or not to hope?

To hope or not to hope?
That is the question...

Excellent photoshopping courtesy of my friend, the ginger elephant. 

(Πηγή αποτελεσμάτων in.gr)

Πάρτε νά'χετε ολοι σας.

Πάρτε και δεύτερες εκλογές τον Ιούνιο και δώστε στον Τσίπρα την εξουσία να δούμε αν μπορεί να put his money where his mouth is, που λέμε κι εδώ στα εξωτερικά.

Άντε και να δούμε, λέτε να ξυπνήσει η χώρα από τους εφιάλτες του Πασοκ και της ΝΔ.

Quotes for an election

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous- Almost, at times, the Fool. __________________________________________________________ This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.

Watch till end, find the symbolism

The beast

17 December 2010: a man sets himself on fire in the middle of Sidi Bouzid because he is humiliated. Pushed to the brink by financial struggle and corruption, he ends his life in a spectacular public way. The world pays attention. Arab Spring has started.

4 April 2012: a man shoots himself in the middle of Syntagma square in Athens. It is morning, broad daylight. He is a pensioner. He writes that he feels humiliated and wants to end his life with some dignity. Apparently he has no financial debts per se, but he feels pushed to the brink nonetheless.

Suicides have risen dramatically in Greece during the last couple of years. Does anybody care?

Is there ever going to be a Greek spring?

Quo vadis?

Broken Britain vs. Greece on the brink

On the one hand, there is Greece: for two years now media have covered the crisis in Greece in an unsympathetic style, secretly blaming the South European lazy ethos for all the doom and gloom. If you watched the despicable "go Greek for a week" Channel 4 program, you know what I am talking about.

Recently however, the insightful coverage has prevailed and even more so it has uncovered the unbelievably harsh reality of living in Greece amidst this crisis.

The Guardian reports that HIV and malaria are having an eerie comeback in Greece due to the deteriorating health system.

It also reports that Athens children are too hungry to do sports.

If this is the picture of a lazy nation that got what it deserved, then I don't know what to say.

On a more positive note, global post reports on a rising grassroots movement in Greece that is aimed to tackle the failing system, and has brought some type of social synergy back to the Greek society.

It's easy to think that all of this is "far away", and does not concern us happy hard-working Northern Europeans. We pay our taxes, you say, we are not like the Greeks. But then, where did all of this come from?



Plan B protests and sings:

We've had it with you politicians
you bloody rich kids never listen
There's no such thing as broken Britain
we're just bloody broke in Britain
What needs fixing is the system
not shop windows down in Brixton
Riots on the television
you can't put us all in prison!

Oi! I said Oi!
What you looking at you little rich boy?
We're poor round here, run home and lock your door!
Don't come round here no more, you could get robbed for
real (yeah) because my manors ill
My manors ill
For real
Yeah you know my manors ill , my manors ill!

So, we really need to think about easy and shallow generalizations long and hard.
What did Greece do wrong? How can we fix it?
What did Britain do wrong? How can we fix that?

I have no answers. All I know is that this is one problem, not two and whoever thinks otherwise is simply fooling himself.

Classic

Just got a taxi to the airport (hallow Belgium) and I finally met the ultimate classic taxi-driver, Greek stylee here in Belfast.

He gave me an analysis of the financial crisis, complete with conspiracy theories about free masons and who controls the federal reserve bank in the states. It was awesome. He said people need to stop paying taxes and we need to bring those bastards down! He also said he lives in the country and grows his own vegetables because soon there will be a time when a potato will cost 100 pounds.

Priceless, I tell you!

And you know what, he could very well be right, I am not taking the piss, it's just that I haven't met such a stereotypical specimen of a taxi-driver since I lived in Greece.

And I had missed it greatly.

New old

Amazing song.
How can something so old sound so new?
Am I the only one who thinks that this sounds like a forgotten duet between Sting/Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush?

False dichotomy

My life's convictions have been shattered, suddenly on a Saturday night while watching Star Trek. I was sitting there, waiting to be bored and instead I was so so surprised that I was enjoying myself, so surprised indeed.

I was raised to believe that things are black and white in a certain way: people are either clever or stupid, not good or bad; books are either artistic or pop, not good or bad and so on and so forth. Now of course I listen to trashy music and watch shitty films and enjoy them, but I thought this was just my guilty pleasure. An old friend once told my that cheesy music is cathartic, and I believed him, but didn't ask why.

Still, I know in my bones that there is a difference between the entire current UK top 40 and "like a prayer". But how can I explain it, if my only tools are: posh vs. pop? And then it hit me that this is a false dichotomy. There is no such thing as deep vs. pop literature, everything in life is either GOOD or plain BAD.

Star trek is a pop movie, but it's a good movie.
The Carnage is not a pop movie, but it's a bad movie.

Madonna is pop but it's good pop (most of the times).
Vivaldi is not pop (well, maybe), but it's good music still.

This is the distinction in life: are you or are you not good in whatever you do? You lay the rules (of your genre), whatever they are and then you can follow them (in a good, inspired, or even profound way) or not.

If you don't follow the rules that you set, no matter how naive or simplistic they might be, then your (artistic or other) artifact will forever and always suck.

Over and out,
an enlightened Lady V

The new boring

La petite bourgeoisie, how boring really...

Don't we all know it, that the middle class sucks?

We educate ourselves to mask our working class roots.

We dress up nicely to hide our stumbled fingernails.

We speak politely to disguise our animal instincts.

Polanski's new movie, with its excellent cast and interesting (if somewhat far-fetched) script tells us, once again, what we knew all along: that people are animals, and middle class people are animals in disguise. Like the pigs walking on their back two feet and wearing clothes in the animal farm.

What I particularly disliked about the movie (apart from the fact that it was boring) was that it was so naively transparent. Its intentions were extremely clear from start to finish. This movie very simply wanted to tell us that politeness is skin deep, it disguises the true nature of man. But this was so banal, so common and so clear that I really could not even concentrate.

Quel dommage!

Gavin Hewitt@BBC

The President of the European Commission Jose Manuel Barroso has declared: "I think all Europe has now the eyes on Athens." Europe's leaders are waiting, drumming their fingers impatiently.

Yet Athens is a city of false deadlines. They are made and discarded casually. Yet again today there is an expectation that the leaders of the coalition will agree to a raft of austerity measures and so pave the way for a second Greek bailout.

The text of an agreement was finalised last night. It sets out where the extra spending cuts - amounting to 3bn euros - will fall.


Protesters see the culture of austerity as of German design
Lurking in the wings are the accountants of the troika: the IMF, the EU and the ECB. These officials are consulted at every turn; they determine whether the cuts, which will affect the lives of ordinary Greeks, will satisfy the creditors.

It is a horse trade between those who will shortly be accountable to the people at election time and those who will never have to face the voters.

The outline of a deal is clear. The largest spending cut of 1.1bn euros will most likely be in health care.

There is undoubtedly waste in the system but I visited a hospital near Piraeus two days ago that had a shortage of syringes, dressings and basic drugs. A doctor told me his salary had already been cut by 35% in the past two years and he expected a further 20% cut.

Local government funding will be reduced. There will be a 20% cut in the minimum wage but annual bonus holiday payments in the private sector may escape.

If a deal is done today - and expect some last minute haggling - it will be described as historic. The leaders of France and Germany will praise the responsibility of Greece's politicians.

In reality, like bailout mark 1, it will buy time. The spectre of a messy default in March will have been removed. There will be a huge sigh of relief in Brussels.

It is wise, however, to be cautious. Any agreement will still have to be voted on in the Greek parliament. Secondly there is the question of whether the deal will go far enough.

The IMF has insisted that Greece's debt to GDP ratio must fall to 120% of GDP by 2020. With private investors taking losses of up to 70% on their investments, Greece's debt mountain should be reduced by 100bn euros. Then there are the spending cuts.

But there might still be a shortfall - perhaps by as much as 15bn euros. Eurozone governments may be asked to fill that gap and some countries will baulk at reaching into their pockets yet again.

If all that is done - what are the prospects for the real economy in Greece? It is expected to shrink by 3% this year. Businesses are closing by the day - 65,000 have gone. Unemployment is close to 19%.

I spoke to a gold dealer. In just one store between 25 and 30 people a day come in to sell their jewellery. There are now scores of such places.

It is just one barometer of a country hurting. Greece is in recession while further cuts are being insisted on. There is a distinct possibility that the Greek economy will continue its decline upsetting all calculations. It will continue on international life support whilst money flows out of the country and the best and brightest head for Australia and Canada.

Much of the political class in Greece argue that the country has no alternative.

Either the people accept this deal or they will face the chaos of bankruptcy. A majority of Greeks accept that argument reluctantly. The risk, however, is that this deal ushers in ten years of austerity that will break Greek society.

Yesterday - in torrential rain - there was a protest against the new spending cuts. On the steps of the parliament they burned a German flag. Certainly in Greece - and perhaps in Italy and Spain too - the culture of austerity is seen as of German design.

If the bailout only delivers more pain then the blame will fall on Germany - as the Italian Prime Minister Mario Monti has hinted.

This week has witnessed an extraordinary sight - a German chancellor openly taking sides in a French election. She justifies this on the grounds that we are all European.

The President of the European Council Herman Van Rompuy has defended her. "We have gone through such a huge crisis," he argues, that "we are looking to each other in a different way than before".

"What we are currently going through is... the Europeanisation of national political life," he added.

It is an interesting observation from an official always worth listening to although the voters - as far as I know - have expressed no interest or support for "the Europeanisation of national political life".

It underlines what some regard as the most dangerous legacy of the eurozone crisis - the sidelining of democracy at both a national and a European level.

Does she still got it?

You fucking bet she does!!!!


Madonna for president for ever (even if the new song sucks bit)....

The rain

What do you feel when you listen to the falling rain tapping away on the window?

I feel relief.
I feel that everything will be clean and shiny after that.
I feel lucky that I have a warm house to cosy into and listen to the falling rain.

I feel like making a cup of coffee and reading magazines.

Good morning...

And remember, tomorrow is a new week and lousy January will be over for another year.

Grow up

The sole purpose of this post is to make me feel better. I always felt that writing is therapeutic, so now is the time to put this to the ultimate test.

I've always been a good girl, I hate confrontation, and very often in order to avoid it I even lie. If a friend invites me to dinner and I don't feel like going, I might lie in order not to say to the other person "I can't come, because I don't feel like it". Society seems to like this, it's calling these excuses "white lies" or something. But they are shit, mostly because they make people weak, stupid, avoiding confrontation at all cost. So when you actually have to confront something, you cannot because you are not able to, you have never done it.

I have a manipulative person in my life, who has managed to manipulate me into a role that I do not want to assume.

Initially, I could deal with this, because I can deal with everything seemingly, I just grin and bear it.

I now find myself into a situation where it is impossible for me to function, because the role that I am forced to play is not feasible anymore.

The only answer to my problem is to confront this person and explain that I cannot do this anymore. This is the only possible, logical and right thing to do. Yet, I am finding it hard. Why?

All my life, whenever I had to do something like this, I shied away from it, I took another road. I stayed silent and waited for the problem to disappear. Sometimes this worked, sometimes it didn't.

This time, this is definitely NOT going to work; the manipulation is too big.

So I have to speak up. Will I do this?

You fucking better believe I will. Because, maybe now, at the age of 33, it is (maybe; just maybe) the time to finally grow up.

Grow up.
Speak up for yourself.
No one else will.

My dog died

My dog Mourgos died.

He ate poison and died.

Who does this to animals? I don't care why people leave poison around, if it's for fucking foxes or whoever eats their chickens or whatever. You can't do this period. Fucking assholes. I hate them all.

We've lost so many animals like this. Suffering terrible deaths, poor dogs.

This is not a normal country, when nothing works and no one behaves like a civilized person.

Not so much...

it's the movie everyone is talking about: silent but powerful, it is winning awards (including Cannes, Golden globes etc) and is the biggest favourite for the Oscars.

I was very intrigued, and went and saw it on Sunday. Great movie, fun and moving, but nothing to get one's knickers in a twist about, I think. The story is a cliché, done amazingly in the far superior Sunset Boulevard, what remains is the novelty of watching a silent movie in the year 2012. Great acting and recreation of an era, great dog even but really, why the hype?

It's really all been said before... And of course art repeats itself all the time, but no need to do it in such a way...



I;m ready for my close-up Mr de Mille.
Immortal line, immortal movie.

The new year

The new year that came- 2012, leap year. Lucky? Who knows...

The red earth, with crops. Potatoes.

Does it make us feel safe? To have potatoes around.
At least we can eat that, one might think.

Greece is bleeding. People are sad, depressed, frustrated. Confused.

The fear is everywhere. Where is the optimism? Is there any left?

Who knows...

But it's the new year, this must count for something.