"We who bore the mark, felt no anxiety about the shape the future was to take. All of these faiths and teachings seemed to us already dead and useless. The only duty and destiny we acknowledged was that each one of us should become so completely himself, so utterly faithful to the active seed which nature planted within him, that in living out its growth he could be surprised by nothing unknown to come."
Και σε λυπούνται που δεν το 'χεις νιώσει
κι εσύ λυπάσαι που το ξέρεις πρώτος
και που κανείς δεν είχε λάβει γνώση
πως η σιωπή σου ήταν χρόνια κρότος.
κι εσύ λυπάσαι που το ξέρεις πρώτος
και που κανείς δεν είχε λάβει γνώση
πως η σιωπή σου ήταν χρόνια κρότος.
Σάββατο 29 Μαΐου 2010
Μοναδικοί Φίλοι (1)
Αχ, μητέρα και πατέρα...τι να κάνω; Νιώθω πως έχω χάσει πάλι τον δρόμο μου....Μου μιλάνε τα ζώα, μου μιλάνε τα δέντρα και τα φυτά, αλλά εγώ δεν νιώθω τίποτα..έχω χάσει κάθε επαφή...και με εσάς και μες τον κόσμο, λες και ξαφνικά όλα άλλαξαν δίχως να με ρωτήσουν. Αχ, πείτε μου τι να κάνω..πείτε μου, νιώθω, ή καλύτερα είμαι σίγουρος, πως έχω χάσει για άλλη μια φορά τον δρόμο μου... Δεν μπορώ να ακούσω ούτε καν τους ακολούθους σας, ούτε καν εμένα. Πείτε μου κάτι, κάντε κάτι, ένα σημάδι...
Δευτέρα 24 Μαΐου 2010
Όνειρα (1)
Ονειρεύομαι
μέρη που μάτι ανθρώπου δεν έχει ξαναδεί
Ονειρεύομαι
τόπους που το όνομά τους είναι άγνωστο
Ονειρεύομαι
ζωή δίχως φόβο και κακία, δίχως δάκρυα, δίχως πόνο καρδιάς
Ονειρεύομαι
μια εποχή όπου τα όνειρά μου δεν θα θρυμματίζονται
Κυριακή 23 Μαΐου 2010
Necessary to write
It is necessary to write, if the days are not
to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly
of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is
gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over
his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop.
Sackville-West
to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly
of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is
gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over
his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop.
Sackville-West
Παρασκευή 14 Μαΐου 2010
Letter to thy self
Dear me,
It is time at last to talk about some things. I know that the last time we talked was a long ago, as I also know that it is me who should be blamed.
Life recently has changed a little bit, yet I don't seem to change in the parts where it is necessary. I mean, ok, many thoughts or ways of living have been altered and I have gained much experience that I lacked. But some things that I would like them to have gone away, still follow me with an unwanted loyalty.
For example, my loneliness in the crowd. I used to have no friends though now I've made a lot. Yet that doesn't seem to make me feel that I belong somewhere. It's still the same feeling; a slight pain in my heart when I see the others enjoying themselves... no... no... it's not that. Ok, I admit that in the past I was jealous but now I am aware that they are alone too. Most of them are miserable, trying in vain to belong somewhere and fool themselves. But it's not possible for anyone not to realise the truth one day; we are born alone, we love alone and we die alone. And that is because it is very difficult or even impossible to feel exactly what the other is feeling.
So, you see what I am trying to explain? I do not know. Even when everything seems to go along and that I am protected with many ways, something inside me keeps being afraid of the change. As if I'll lose everything and I'll have to make my heritage from the beginning. But what is that heritage that my soul is so afraid of losing? Only ghosts, shadows from the past and feelings of fear and pain. Decay of the soul, that is what this heritage is!
I do not know... I can't tell yet. I believe that I still need much more time and experience in order to be able to oppose all of my demons. I may be protected but at night, especially during the night, my defenses get weaker, my self, and that means you, gets weaker. And they penetrate my skin and reach my innocent heart that cannot stand this world. I may be in my puddle, I may sometimes feel jealousy or hatred, but my heart still beats like it used to when I had nothing to worry about. It still sings the same forgotten melodies of innocence. At least I've found a perfect way to hide my heart and play dead to the outside world. You see, it is essential that sacrifice 'cause only by doing that you may one day have a slight chance to fit in.
So my self, I write to you this letter in purpose of asking you your opinion on these everyday fights that I'm giving and to ask for your precious aid and guidance.
Looking forward for your reply,
with true love Shadowcain.
It is time at last to talk about some things. I know that the last time we talked was a long ago, as I also know that it is me who should be blamed.
Life recently has changed a little bit, yet I don't seem to change in the parts where it is necessary. I mean, ok, many thoughts or ways of living have been altered and I have gained much experience that I lacked. But some things that I would like them to have gone away, still follow me with an unwanted loyalty.
For example, my loneliness in the crowd. I used to have no friends though now I've made a lot. Yet that doesn't seem to make me feel that I belong somewhere. It's still the same feeling; a slight pain in my heart when I see the others enjoying themselves... no... no... it's not that. Ok, I admit that in the past I was jealous but now I am aware that they are alone too. Most of them are miserable, trying in vain to belong somewhere and fool themselves. But it's not possible for anyone not to realise the truth one day; we are born alone, we love alone and we die alone. And that is because it is very difficult or even impossible to feel exactly what the other is feeling.
So, you see what I am trying to explain? I do not know. Even when everything seems to go along and that I am protected with many ways, something inside me keeps being afraid of the change. As if I'll lose everything and I'll have to make my heritage from the beginning. But what is that heritage that my soul is so afraid of losing? Only ghosts, shadows from the past and feelings of fear and pain. Decay of the soul, that is what this heritage is!
I do not know... I can't tell yet. I believe that I still need much more time and experience in order to be able to oppose all of my demons. I may be protected but at night, especially during the night, my defenses get weaker, my self, and that means you, gets weaker. And they penetrate my skin and reach my innocent heart that cannot stand this world. I may be in my puddle, I may sometimes feel jealousy or hatred, but my heart still beats like it used to when I had nothing to worry about. It still sings the same forgotten melodies of innocence. At least I've found a perfect way to hide my heart and play dead to the outside world. You see, it is essential that sacrifice 'cause only by doing that you may one day have a slight chance to fit in.
So my self, I write to you this letter in purpose of asking you your opinion on these everyday fights that I'm giving and to ask for your precious aid and guidance.
Looking forward for your reply,
with true love Shadowcain.
Κυριακή 2 Μαΐου 2010
Κληρονομιά των Φαντασμάτων
"I don't wanna be the girl who has to fill the silence...
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth"
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth"
Και να σου! Κάτι συμβαίνει την στιγμή που η ζωή σου έχει γεμίσει με το Λευκό Σκοτάδι και που νομίζεις πως όλα θα είναι τα ίδια μέχρις ότου να 'φύγεις' μακριά. Κάτι συμβαίνει τότε που θαρρείς πως ελπίδα δεν υπάρχει και όλα αλλάζουν.
Τι συνέβη ρωτάς; Πες πως βρήκες τον δρόμο για να βρεις τον εαυτό σου. Ξέρεις πως είναι μεγάλος και δύσκολος, μα τουλάχιστον γνωρίζεις πως ξέρεις που βαδίζεις πια. Σε τρομάζει η αρχή, σε τρομάζει η αλήθεια που θα πρέπει να αντιμετωπίσεις κάποια στιγμή, αλλά γνωρίζεις επίσης πως το έχεις ανάγκη. Έχεις ανάγκη να ξεφύγεις από όλα αυτά που τόσο καιρό έχεις επιτρέψει να σε κυνηγάνε. Και επίσης γνωρίζεις πως μπορείς, με κόπο πάντα, να τα αλλάξεις όλα.
Και ενώ αρχίζει η ψυχή σου να νιώθει αγαλλίαση, σε πιάνει πανικός!
"Κι εγώ μετά τι θα έχω;" αναρωτιέσαι. Και δικαίως το κάνεις μιας και τόσα χρόνια, που κλειδωνόσουν μακριά από την ανθρωπότητα με μοναδικούς συντρόφους τα φαντάσματά σου και την φρίκη της μοναξιάς, έχτισες μεγάλη κληρονομιά.
Και σου δίνεται η επιλογή να την κρατήσεις ή να πορευτείς δίχως μία, παρά μόνο αν μπορέσεις και δημιουργήσεις από την αρχή μια καινούρια.
Χάνεις την κληρονομιά των φαντασμάτων σου! Χάνεις τους αιώνιους εχθρούς και φίλους σου! Χάνεις την δικαιολογία της μοναξιάς σου. Πως θα αντέξεις να ζήσεις με αυτό που τόσα χρόνια ονειρευόσουν; Πως θα αντέξεις να ζήσεις δίχως τον φόβο που σε μεγάλωσε; Πως;...
Μα κανείς επιτέλους δεν μπορεί να βρεθεί σε λίγη ηρεμία; Και κατά πόσο η ηρεμία είναι το ιδεατό; Αυτό να αναρωτηθείς πρέπει πρώτα. Πριν ελπίζεις και εύχεσαι. Διότι οι ευχές είναι επικίνδυνες...
Πέμπτη 22 Απριλίου 2010
Don't look down (1)
"Don't look down
Don't look into the eyes of the world beneath you
Don't look down
You'll fall down
You'll become their sacrifice"
Don't look into the eyes of the world beneath you
Don't look down
You'll fall down
You'll become their sacrifice"
Οι άνθρωποι, ή τουλάχιστον αυτό που ονομάζουμε ανθρώπους, διότι ακόμα δεν έχω ξεκαθαρίσει αν η έννοια άνθρωπος είναι ένας δύσκολος στόχος που λίγοι έχουν φτάσει ή είναι μία πτώση, λένε ψέματα. Είναι κακοί. Αλλά γιατί; Γιατί; Μόνο να φάνε, να χορτάσουν τον εγωισμό τους και τα ένστικτά τους κι έπειτα τέλος. Η απληστία και η κακία του 'ανθρώπου' θα μου μείνει ένα αιώνιο ερώτημα, σαν αυτά που φοβάσαι να σκεφτείς μην τυχόν φανείς αδαής. Αλλά μέχρι και ο πιο παντογνώστης, είμαι σίγουρος, θα βρισκόταν σε αμηχανία.
Ο άνθρωπος είναι ένα καρκίνωμα. Ένα καρκίνωμα δίχως γιατριά. Του δόθηκε η Γη, του δόθηκε η αγάπη της φύσης και όλη αυτή η ομορφιά, μα ήθελε κι άλλα. Πάλεψε με θεούς και δαίμονες και τα απέκτησε. Αλλά ήθελε και άλλα. Δεν του έφταναν τα πρώτα του όνειρα, ήθελε να φτάσει ακόμα πιο ψηλά. Αλλά όσο πιο ψηλά ανέβαινε και ανεβαίνει τόσο πιο κάτω πέφτει. Έχασε τα πρώτα του 'δώρα' κι όμως συνέχισε να ζητά κι άλλα.
Κατηγορούμε τους 'Μεγάλους Αδερφούς' για την κατάντια μας, αλλά δεν γίνεται να μας ξύπνησαν τόσο σκοτεινά αισθήματα. Όταν βλέπουμε να σκοτώνουν ανελέητα για λόγους...μηδαμινούς, όταν βλέπουμε να πληγώνουν και να βασανίζουν και ταυτόχρονα να νιώθουν ικανοποίηση, τι να πω εγώ; Μα σάμπως κι εγώ δεν είμαι άνθρωπος; Δεν κάνω λάθη, δεν καταστρέφω εμένα και τους άλλους;
Ο άνθρωπος, επίσης, έχει την τάση να κάνει το θύμα και τον ανήξερο σε διαφορετικές και παρόμοιες καταστάσεις.
Έχε χάρη που είμαι κουρασμένος και δίχως όρεξη να γράψω... μα θα το συνεχίσω κάποια στιγμή......
Τετάρτη 21 Απριλίου 2010
Forget-Me-Not (William McGonagall)
A gallant knight & his betroth'd bride,
Were walking one day by a river side,
They talk'd of love, & they talk'd of war,
And how very foolish lovers are.
At length the bride to the knight did say,
'There have been many young ladies led astray
By believing in all their lovers said,
And you are false to me I am afraid.'
'No, Ellen, I was never false to thee,
I never gave thee cause to doubt me;
I have always lov'd thee & do still,
And no other woman your place shall fill.'
'Dear Edwin, it may be true, but I am in doubt,
But there's some beautiful flowers here about,
Growing on the other side of the river,
But how to get one, I cannot discover.'
'Dear Ellen, they seem beautiful indeed,
But of them, dear, take no heed;
Because they are on the other side,
Besides, the river is deep & wide.'
'Dear Edwin, as I doubt your love to be untrue,
I ask one favour now from you:
Go! fetch me a flower from across the river,
Which will prove you love me more than ever.'
'Dear Ellen! I will try & fetch you a flower
If it lies within my power
To prove that I am true to you,
And what more can your Edwin do?'
So he leap'd into the river wide,
And swam across to the other side,
To fetch a flower for his young bride,
Who watched him eagerly on the other side.
So he pluck'd a flower right merrily
Which seemed to fill his heart with glee,
That it would please his lovely bride;
But, alas! he never got to the other side.
For when he tried to swim across,
All power of his body he did loss,
But before he sank in the river wide,
He flung the flowers to his lovely bride.
And he cried, 'Oh, heaven! hard is my lot,
My dearest Ellen! Forget me not:
For I was ever true to you,
My dearest Ellen! I bid thee adieu!'
Were walking one day by a river side,
They talk'd of love, & they talk'd of war,
And how very foolish lovers are.
At length the bride to the knight did say,
'There have been many young ladies led astray
By believing in all their lovers said,
And you are false to me I am afraid.'
'No, Ellen, I was never false to thee,
I never gave thee cause to doubt me;
I have always lov'd thee & do still,
And no other woman your place shall fill.'
'Dear Edwin, it may be true, but I am in doubt,
But there's some beautiful flowers here about,
Growing on the other side of the river,
But how to get one, I cannot discover.'
'Dear Ellen, they seem beautiful indeed,
But of them, dear, take no heed;
Because they are on the other side,
Besides, the river is deep & wide.'
'Dear Edwin, as I doubt your love to be untrue,
I ask one favour now from you:
Go! fetch me a flower from across the river,
Which will prove you love me more than ever.'
'Dear Ellen! I will try & fetch you a flower
If it lies within my power
To prove that I am true to you,
And what more can your Edwin do?'
So he leap'd into the river wide,
And swam across to the other side,
To fetch a flower for his young bride,
Who watched him eagerly on the other side.
So he pluck'd a flower right merrily
Which seemed to fill his heart with glee,
That it would please his lovely bride;
But, alas! he never got to the other side.
For when he tried to swim across,
All power of his body he did loss,
But before he sank in the river wide,
He flung the flowers to his lovely bride.
And he cried, 'Oh, heaven! hard is my lot,
My dearest Ellen! Forget me not:
For I was ever true to you,
My dearest Ellen! I bid thee adieu!'
Then she wrung her hands in wild despair,
Until her cries did rend the air;
And she cried, 'Edwin, dear, hard is out lot,
But I'll name this flower Forget-me-not.
'And I'll remember thee while I live,
And to no other man my hand I'll give,
And I will place my affection on this little flower,
And it will solace me in a lonely hour.'
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