“We live in but a shadow of the real”

Assume that you’re brokenhearted. Again and again and again and again. But you refuse to talk about it, you don’t wanna talk about it (only God knows how much you’re thinking about it, though). And you move on. But,… do you really move on?

I hope so, but wouldn’t be so sure. Because, not talking about it means not facing it. For example, when I feel frustrated, I pretend that I’ve say a monologue in a theatre play, where I take any thought that crosses my mind outta my chest. It’s very effecient to me. Once I got so emotionaly charged by my thoughts, that I sat on my bed with force and broke it. But then I was alright.

Because not-talking-about-something that kills you… it kills you. It’s like covering the dust on the floor with a carpet. The others and you may cannot see it, but it remains there, no-one cleans it up. It’s like getting injured, but instead of going to the nearest hospital to heal yourself, you cover the wound with a jacket, thinking that you can magically make it, that it’s not important. You do that with plenty of your wounds. Sometimes you even get hit on already injured body parts. Do you fucking have to end up in a wheelchair to realise that this is not good?

You’re wearing this armour that protects you from the world, but this armour keeps the poison in your skin, as well. Anything bad that’s behind that armour cannot be casted away. So, it stays inside of you, harms you, eats you up from the inside. Why do you have to suffer like this, can you please tell me?

It’s like having a tooth that aches and going to the dentist to take it out of your mouth, but unreasonably not telling him/her which that tooth is. Your soul, your feelings are as important as your vital organs, it’s an organ, too.

Of course and it’s very hard to find someone that you can trust. Someone that is strong enough to carry your anchors with you. Someone that is patient enough to give you the medicines that can finally make all this shit go away. I know that you’re scared. But, maybe that’s why friends exsist. Just take a look around. Close your eyes and think. Who feels like a real friend to you? Who do you know that whatever you tell them, they won’t say a word, they’ll keep your secrets like they’re sacred? Who do you think that really loves you? Who do you love, as well?

Turn to this person, to those people. You won’t be weak if you do. You won’t lose your dignity. The opposite; you’ll be honest and brave enough to admit that you’re human, that you’ve got feelings. Why are you hiding from the light so desperatey, dear, when there are so many ways that can take you out of your Hell? It’s maybe because the darkness drags you down. But it’s not late. It’s never too late to escape from this misery. Because now  you’re the victim. Desolated and helpless.

Only take a look around, there are people that can make you feel like you never did before, that won’t just heal you, but also teach you how to not get hit ever again.
It’s not a dream, this is not bullshit.
Believe me, I’ve been through it.

Or just stuck and melt in misery and hiding. Your life, your rules.

I Might Be Wrong

17.04.2012

I know that I’ll regret posting that journal and I don’t know if I will do it; the previous sentence is the beginning of more than 20 un-posted journals. However, I never know how my mood’ll be, so I have to always write it and have some peace of mind.

I’m wondering sometimes what I am doing here. What do I want from my life. Why I am breathing. Why I am wasting skin. If I will ever do something worthy. Something that represents me. But, most of all, I’m wondering about the value of love in this life (it’s irrelevant with the rest of the questions, but I didn’t know how to begin the subject).

We all wanna be loved, somehow. Even if we pretend that we don’t care, deeply we do. A lot. And I’m not only talking about falling in love (even if this is concidered to be the highest form of love), but also love among family and friends.

I mean, the 60% of the psychological issues that people on this planet carry are caused by the love that a mother forgot or didn’t want to give to her child. And most of the psychological problems are likely to be caused in childhood and (then) teenage years.

Another percentage of 30% of the pshychological issues is caused by an unrequited love that a kid went through at teenage years. There was a 17-year-old dude in my country that shot and killed some of his classmates and teachers a few years ago. He did that when the girl that he was in love with turned him down. She was his only hope to be happy, but for how long? Oh, I forgot to say that after the killings, he fatally shot himself, as well. What a miserable way to die! Only for wanting some affection.

Simple reasons cause extremely complicated problems. They breed dominos.

There are billions of songs, thousants of movies, noumerous books that about love. There are even “How-To-Do-Something” guides that tell us how to make ourselves adorable and this is some proof about the significance of love around the world, finally.

[I’m listening to Radiohead’s “True Love Waits” right now. Even if I can’t make out most of the lyrics that the singer sings, the melody is very inspiring for this subject]

But, how exactly do we want to be loved? Many people confuse the phrase “I love you” with the phrase “I’m in love with you”. They feel the latter, but their mouth says the first one. This is wrong. Falling in love is temporary. That kind of love (which is called “eros” in greek) lasts only for two or three years. Maybe even less. But the other kind of love is that matters the most.

Because eros is filthy, egoistic. It’s greedy, jealous, incomplete, insecure. Hurtful when there’s no responce to it’s desperate calls. I’ve fallen in love, I’ve been through all of it’s dirty stages and I’m glad that I did.

Everything that hurts becomes a lesson. But a lesson is not common for everyone; it doesn’t depend only on the teacher, or the lesson itself, but also on the student. Because the lessons that life teaches us are do-it-yourself, self-taught. Eveybody learns something different and consequently, not all of those lessons are right, because not all of those conclusions are based on any kind of logic (there are 2 kinds of logic: the logic of the mind and the logic of the heart. Heart’s logic obeys to odd rules).

When you fall in love for the first time, it’s like being reborn. Everything that you know must be forgotten, your sight of the world is wrong. Now you go and see the world from a different light, you make plans for two, you sink into somebody else’s world, too. So when you break-up… I don’t know, the feeling cannot be put into words, I would underestimate it’s size, if I did. There’s a rocky song by The White Stripes called “I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself”. It’s a sweet way to discribe the emptyness after a huge affair, but it’s certainly not enough.

When one say’s “I love you”, I’m not sure if they mean it. I’m not sure if they’ve even felt anything close to this. Those three words describe a state of being very hard to be achieved. Love (and by that I mean pure, innocent, complete, altrouistic love) doesn’t need responce, first and foremost. You’re not suffering when you don’t take love from your loved one, but you’re extremely happy when you give some to them. Love is not jealous. Love is trusting, it never suspects. Love is complete and happy. Love is not posessive. Love is from head to toes independend. Love doesn’t need to be loved in order to exsist. I love you, cause I love you, not because you love me back. Love gives everything and expects nothing but the happiness of the loved one. Love is a sacrifice, wasted or not. Love is a dove. That love is very hard to feel and (especially) to find, believe me. Because it requires many other virtues. It requires the proper amount of self-esteem, of justice, of experience with people, of patience, of wisdom.

But who are usually wise? The elderly. No, that doesn’t mean that the elderly love like the way I described above. I read in a mobile videogame once: “It’s good to grow up, as long as you don’t grow old”. But we seem to only be growing old. We do what adults do, but we’re not adults. Adulthood means one thing to me: to take responsibilities. And also being able to learn about stuff that you shouldn’t learn when you were 12 or 16. There’s a proper time for everything. But, the main core of adulthood is the responsibilities part. Anything else is bullshit. Most adults have forgotten that they were kids, too, once. And most people think that when you’re 18+ you HAVE to lose your innocence. If I told you that you HAVE to lose your soul, what would you do? It’s the exact same thing. When you lose the one, you lose the other, as well, and vice versa.

Anyway, the more I write, the bigger my paragraphs become.

[I haven’t listened to anything for ages. The song stopped, but I didn’t notice or bother to play another.]

[Hmmmm Three Days Grace. It seems like centuries ago since the last time that I listened to them. They’ve got this song called “I Hate Everything About You”. The chorus repeats the previously mentioned phrase, with also adding this well asked question “Why do I love you?”]

I was reading an Agatha Christie book the other day (yeeeaaaars ago) and after the mistery was solved, the main hero (I think his name is Luke) was having a convo with the woman that he was in love with.
“Luke, do you like me now?” she said softly
Luke moved towards her, but she pushed him away
“I said ‘like’, Luke, not ‘love’.”
“Oh, I see. Yes. I like you, Bridget, as much as I love you”
“I like you, Luke” said Bridget. They smiled hesitantly at each other, like children that became friends at a party.
“Liking is more important than loving. It lasts, I want it to last, that what exsists between us, Luke. I don’t want to just love each other and then get married and then get bored of each other and then want to marry somebody else” __________________________________________ .

This is something that you have to check before getting married. Still, I’m not sure if this is what that Three Days Grace song means. To explain what I mean, I’ll give you as an example a song called “I Hate You” sang by Sick Puppies. The chorus of this song says “I hate you when you’re gone / I hate you turn me on / I hate the way I need you and I don’t know where you are”… So, the singer obviously doesn’t hate the person that abadoned him, but the whole situation that he’s stuck into (according to the latter line). He may hate the person, too, but only after years of suffering, when he’ll finally identify his pain with them. I mean, there are people that hate the rain. So, they say “I hate the rain”, they don’t say “I hate the clouds, that cause the rain”. They hate the result. It’s rare for many people to hate the cause of their suffering or pain, even if they should, because that cause can also bring the solution. [I’m not sure if this paragraph says anything correct, not really]

So, what that Three Days Grace song [which is relevant, because it speaks about love] wants to say is “Why the fuck do I love you, when you hurt me like that?” Which automatically leads us to the thought that it’s a “breaking-up-but-still-being-in-love” song, for the reasons that I mentioned before. Yeah, like you needed all this analisation. Duh, I just made it official. I proved it. It became clearer in my mind, anyway.

I don’t know why I am even analysing that song; it just happened to appear before my eyes. It’s got beautiful music, I have to say. I also like that line which says: “But, I haven’t missed you, yet ”. All I know is that when hating lasts for a long time, it becomes an illness. Love doesn’t.

[I think that I love Norma Jean. There are not many artists that I love. I think that I love music, too. Music has a feminine sex in Greek language. I think that I just found my all-time girlfriend!]

I named this journal after a Radiohead’s live album, which includes the “True Love Waits” song. It reveals a big truth. Our theories, our beliefs, our ideas, our whole little world might be wrong. Never gain the confidence of certainity. Yea—

“There’s no end to the love you can give…” (“Delilah” by The Dresden Dolls)

No no no no no! I’ve got a better quote to close this journal:
”Fuck a girl and she loves you. Love a girl and she fucks you ” - Anonymous
GOLDEN RULE! :D :D :D

WELCOME TO GREECE

                                                      19.05.2012

I’ll try to remain calm during writing this post, I swear, even though I know that… how possibly can I do that?

So, let’s talk about Greece (maybe with some refferences to my hometown, too). So,  Greece’s messing up the entire European financial system right now, isn’t it? BUT. The problem with this country, with my country I mean, ain’t financial. It’s moral. It’s mental. If Greeks didn’t have the way of thinking they have now, they wouldn’t act like they do. Stealing and cheating. Of course, the fact that most Greeks steal doesn’t mean that every Greek steals, but the problem remains.

[Right now, by the way, I’m listening to Carly Comando’s piano song called “Everyday”, which I find very inspiring to write;  it’s like a theme song, all these years that I’m listening to it]

Most citizens in this damn country blame our politicians. That they’ve stolen unbelievable amounts of money (true), that even now that they’re supposed to be tryin’ to “save” Greece they’re stealing even more (true - the elderly live with 250 Euros per month and our fine politicians buy cars that cost something less than 10.000.000 Euros… I mean, please), but…. but… but…. but… WE‘ve elected those suckers, people! Yes! And don’t push that arguement that they fooled us and shit, because us Greeks are many many things, but we’re definitely NOT idiots. We got into the “big party” because we wanted to. Now it’s time to pay for partying with money that weren’t our own. And our politicians reflect  our nation. We deserve them (appart from the already mentioned minority, naturally).

So, I’ve got this question in my head all the time: if any of those people -including me- who are blaming right now the greek government had the chance to be elected as anything, a minister, a major or anything else, would they not steal money from their own country? Everybody that’s protesting right now has a benefit to make out of this protest; nothing is being done because of our “altrouism”,I’m sorry, but this is the truth. We don’t have a common goal. That’s why our protests go down the drain; everyone wants to lead, everyone wants to get the best piece of flesh. Oooooh, yeah.

We’re living through a masquaraded dictatorship; TV Channels, newspapers, radio stations say what they get payed by politicians to say (by distorting some facts or not even revealing them), there’s no actual control, the police sees gangsters destroying private properties (and I’m suspecting that they get payed by the government itself to destroy) and they do absolutely nothing!  Of course, this is not happening randomly; THEY WANT US TO FEAR! Oh, but fear who? ANYONE! In dictatorships people usually know who the “enemy” was: the dictator and all the people around him, right? Now the goal is to fear everyone, to not trust even your own shadow, because anyone can get the job that you’re asking for, anyone can kill you so that they’ll survive… Isn’t it frightening to fight an unknown or invisible enemy? And when we see everyone as a potential threat, how can we trust them? We desolate ourselves, we’re not truely united (this fear is reinforced by the rising rates of murders and robberies, too - HUNGER HUNGER where are you?!).

Consequently, we trust those guys with the fat asses and the ties. “WE will save you” or “You should trust US, if you want to see better days!” they say. Yeah, right. And we vote no-one, just because there’s none of them who’s not corrupted. THEN DO SOMETHING, YOU DUMBASS [I told you from the very first sentence that I won’t control myself, my apologies]!!!
I was talking with a guy the other day (one of those that think that they’ll impress me with their cultural opinions and then I’ll fall in love with them - Jesus Christ and my dear Lord) and he told me that “I choose to obstain”. Alright, but “Why?” I asked him.
“Because I don’t want to be responsible for electing our country’s future stealers” he replied with confidence.
Oh, what an amazing way of thinking! Marry me NAO! If you don’t want responsibilities, then kill yourself or just stop complaining, because a country’s leadship needs someone RESPONSIBLE and HONEST!
[It’s getting worse, I know]

[Now I’m listening to “Lost In Paradise” by Evanescence; I don’t know if it’ll help me, but I’m hoping that it’ll calm me down a little bit :/]

[It didn’t. Even though it’s a very beautiful song, it’s not appropriate for this job]

[“Going Under” by the same band is much more aggressive. I like it.]

“You’ll be responsible anyway. Either for voting or for not voting” I replied, just to passionately continue “because if you, and others of course, won’t vote, you’ll leave this country to the mercy of them and their fanatic voters, who earn money from the whole prossess”.

He didn’t know what to say. So he kept on his opinion: “Obstaining is a way of protesting, you know”.
That drove me even crazier. I can’t remember how I was looking like; I was definitely talking way too faster than usual (that guy has the tedency to rudely interrupt me, so I started talking faster so that I could complete my thoughts) and I was probably yelling at him. The whole Central Square must’ve turned around and looked at me.

[Now the microphone goes to White Lies and their song “Unfinished Business”. There are those lyrics in this song “You’ve got blood on your hands and I know it’s mine” — aaaww I love this song!]

“Pericles said somewhere that people who don’t bother to waste their time with politics aren’t peaceful and quiet, but useless” I ended up telling him.
Maybe that was a bit harsh, but I felt like waking him up. He’s daydreaming even more than I do.

I’m listening to “Not For Want Of Trying” by Maybeshewill sometimes and I’m thinking that this guy that’s speaking is a prophet. The movie that this speech was taken from ain’t very new, I think. We protest through Facebook, MySpace and Skype, we are the Couch Potato Generation (I don’t consider myself as someone better), we only care about how we look, what others will think of us, and consequently we care about our epidermic personality and now about our personality itself. Like someone else with fight for us, like mommy and daddy will make a phonecall and everything will be cleared up. Hah.

[Now it’s Blackfield’s turn with “1,000 People”. Wow strange playlist tonight. “But I wanna die in this moment, I wanna die” or “No way to understand why I’ve become the way I am” —> Jesus, it’s so beautiful!]

I don’t know, I’m fed up. And I’m not the only one. Lazarus, my Ancient Greek and Latin teacher, also is.

[Jesus, I just can’t stop changing songs so quickly! Excuse me for interrupting the journal subject so often. I’ll listen to Marilyn Manson’s “Coma Black” a couple of times, I promise]

So, Lazarus is on the edge of breaking down lately. This year’s class is 1000% disapointing. He can’t comminucate with most of the students. Like I can. Last Saturday we were writing a History exam on everything we’ve learned. So, the week before the exam only two (2) out of eleven (11) students came to the everyday classes: Margaret and me. And on Saturday only three (3) of the nine missing people came to sit the exam. This is not just tragic, it’s not just ironic, it’s infuriating. And their excuses are much more enraging. Lazarus even got ill when this shit started happening. I don’t think that both of them happened at random in the same period. Maybe the second enworsened the first. I don’t know.

As I’m reading what I’ve written so far, I realize that I’ve mentioned the word “money” about 4 times (with other forms, too). Well, no surprise: this is a post about Greece’s awful financial state. Well, it still bugs me. “Money” is a word that I barely use, even in my daily conversations. Why is it bothering everyone so fucking much? It’s just some piece of paper.

Besides, none of the goodies that money can buy with follow me afterdeath. Only my love from and towards others. Whatever we do, how ever we will end up, in the end love only matters. J. K. Rowling wrote a bunch of Potty books that in the end they are undoubtly a hymn to love.

Show the love that you feel before it’s too late. Life’s too small for hide and seek.

Among the wreckage, love will be the only living thing, trust me.