Παρασκευή, 13 Οκτωβρίου 2017


‘You begin to liquidate a people,’ Hiibl said, ‘by taking away its memory. You destroy its books, its culture, its history. And then others write other books for it, give another culture to it, invent another history for it. Then the people slowly begins to forget what it is and what it was. The world at large forgets it still faster.’- The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, Milan Kundera

'We are using antiquated categories that make the most explosive social problems of our time wholly invisible to us. The geographical segregation into globalized and unglobalized areas has created a sort of epistemological trap. From the age of social democracy, when class was measured by one dimension, income, we have inherited the habit of assuming political issues will pit ‘the rich’ against ‘the poor.’ But today’s issues don’t. The dividing line on most issues is whether people are being helped or hurt by the global economy.'- Christopher Caldwell.

"Is it possible that, in some parallel life, I could have been a member of her company? To watch them dance—this dance in particular—made me ache to be dancing again. I longed to move like that, to feel the notes of Stravinsky’s dissonant score thrumming through my being, to contract and release and lunge and thrash. It’s a strange dance to crave to perform. It is fear and panic embodied, and also desire and despair. The movement is weighted, gritty, unhinged, and almost animalistic. It’s the very opposite of ballet with its steely grace, its ethereal and composed allure. “I loved to dance because I was scared to speak. When I was moving, I could feel,” Pina Bausch has said." - Pina Bausch's 'The Rite of Spring'


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Τετάρτη, 13 Σεπτεμβρίου 2017

As much as I enjoy using blogspot and as much as it has served as a great tool to externalize my thoughts, feelings, desires and what have you there are some moments that things don’t fit. I need to vent.
There is a sense of heaviness that I can’t explain. There have been times in life when forgiveness was the key and made my heart feel lighter. I wonder why I can’t feel that anymore. I wonder if I need to feel what it is I’m sensing and let me get engrossed with it so that acceptance can come forth. So I can finally feel at peace. So I can forgive. Not sure if forgiveness comes before feeling at peace though.
I feel mad at myself for not forgiving as easily as I used to and it makes me wonder who I am. I feel as if I have lost parts of myself. I know this is a part of life. I know that your twenties are supposed to be the years when you figure things out and that you’re not supposed to have everything put together etc.
This year has been the shittiest, toughest, most eye-opening year of my life. This is what scares me -how whenever I feel a negative emotion or have a negative thought, my automatic reaction is to make it positive and perhaps less ‘’real’’ than it actually is so as to bear weight off its impact – maybe to take away the power it has over me. I think that is it, essentially. 
It is about wanting to have power over negativity and it is so emotionally and physically draining. When I try to immerse myself into doing other activities to take my mind off things, I don’t deal with the situation head on. When I do deal with the issues that upset me, I end up feeling worse, being unproductive, not taking care of myself, smoking more which leads to an unbreakable cycle of neglect.
I need to take some time for myself, to heal. So this is basically me saying I will be away for a while but I will hopefully be back online at some point in the future when I feel ready.

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Τρίτη, 29 Αυγούστου 2017

As believers bow down to show their respect to their god
They externalize their appreciation to their almighty deity.

As a lover bows down, hands on their partner’s chest
They take a position of sanctity, of chaos and humility.

As their fingers gently trace their lover’s skin
They softly admire the fragility of their desires.

The embodiment of curiosity,
The power of movement,
The beautiful eeriness of silent stares and swift, uneven breathing.

Let these be part of our rituals of belief and life
To feel the other, to extend our senses
To grow and mature through pain. 

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Πέμπτη, 24 Αυγούστου 2017


Yesterday I went to see a show at the summer theatre we have in my home town. People – young and old – gathered to experience something new, to relive their youth, to enjoy the night breeze under the influence of old melodies. While the songs were being performed, the movies from which they were taken from played in clips in the background on a large screen.

My Mom advised me to bring a shawl. She was right (I just chuckled in my mind). She was so cute. She kept on whispering in my left ear about different characters we were watching on the screen but also about the musicians who were honouring their guests with their presence and talent. Some of the actors had passed away; for others she admitted to them being a heart throb back in the day (herself being a girl who contributed to and participated in this phenomenon).

My Mom spoke about how and when she used to listen to this music; how this music shaped her world. She spoke with such passion and nostalgia and often had tears in her eyes. We held hands under our shawls or held each other by the elbow in between songs. She kept on saying how wonderful the versions were.

It made me think that it is strange that most of the people there were once so young. How they fell in love with these songs, how they cried with heart break at some of the lyrics and they celebrated days at the beach or the mountain or university parties or a simple Sunday afternoon.

It made me realise how much we take certain situations and people for granted sometimes, thinking things will be stable and unchangeable. How very wrong we all are. How fragile our lives and egos are. How we want to fight this virus of ungratefulness – but it’s tough.

It’s tough because I realised that it’s only when we have peace that we can be grateful, forgiving, honest and truly live in the present – of course, same applies the other way round. When did it become so easy to tell white lies? When was the turning point that we thought that not sharing the ultimate truth is better? For what, for ‘what ifs’? Probably. Probably what though?

Who really cares about you not getting into the course you wanted? Who cares that you dropped out of high school/college etc? Who cares about you not getting the job you dreamed about? Who really cares that you separated from your significant other because you cheated? Who cares that you had quarrels with your family? Who cares about the fact that you put on or lost a lot of weight? Who cares you quit your job to travel or to start getting into something completely different?

Everyone is interested in others to an extent as it is in our nature (?) to live in a community setting and live with certain but apart from your news being the main topic of conversation and interest – then what? Do we really feel our time and energy is appropriately used when we participate in these conversations?
I wonder how much more liberating it would be to let go of these expectations that we all have in one form or another.
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Παρασκευή, 18 Αυγούστου 2017

Δευτέρα, 14 Αυγούστου 2017

You'll Never Know


You’ll never know about the boy who fought with the coppers and got sentenced instead of his younger village friend in a football match.
You’ll never know about the Mom of four who once broke down many years ago when an old family friend asked her when she was going to finally get pregnant while she thought she could not conceive.
You’ll never know about the man who forged being ill in order to avoid his army service.
You’ll never know about the girl who slept with her past innocence, only to wake up to cover her shoulders.
You’ll never know about the plane tickets the woman booked to see her lover and never made it to the airport due to unforeseen circumstances.
You’ll never know about the man with the cane of pinned locations, ready to discuss each and every one with the most meticulous manner.
You’ll never know about the sacrifice a father has made to see his children scarcely but support them constantly.

You’ll never know these stories but they are all around us.
We are sometimes so fast to judge others that we forget they are made up of a plethora of stories; sad and merciful but ecstatic and inspiring too.

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Orphan Black Finale

I am saving myself from watching the last episode of Orphan Black. Promised my sister to watch it with her by distance because I have often watched the episodes without her due to her busy schedule (and my lack of self-control with anything Orphan Black related but let’s not get into that!).

I have seen some snippets here and there, some gifsets and interviews. Perhaps delaying myself from watching the last episode, subconsciously, leaves me the opportunity to have the power to end this wonderful journey on my terms.

What can I say about this masterpiece? What can I first touch upon, I really do wonder. I started this series because of a gifset I had come across of Cosima and Delphine kissing in season 2 in the new lab. Back then, I started watching it because 18 year old me was primarily excited to come across anything LGBT related. Little did I know what an impact this series will have on my life, the formation of some important relationships and my outlook on life, on science, on (bio)ethics, on autonomy, on consent, on love, on the meaning of family (biological or chosen) and the multitude of these expressions.

I can sincerely say I grew up with Orphan Black. It changed and matured me in ways I never expected a mere piece of art to do so. Because at the end of the day, Orphan Black is art. It touched and still continues to touch so many viewers, it made people question the ethics behind science; it made people question the dynamics of sexuality and identity; it made people come to terms with what evil and power can do when disguised in the form of authority figures – be it in science or corporate environments.

I identified with many of the characters; with their weaknesses, their stubbornness, their sassiness, their humor. I cried when some of them reunited – be it lovers or family. I was challenged mentally and emotionally with every episode.

This is what I will keep from this amazing show. Regardless of the fact I am known to have an obsession – I do not remember every detail, every face or name of it but the sentiment and wonder it offered me is enough to last me a lifetime. 

That, on its own, is worth the world.

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