Saturday, September 27, 2008

La Jetée

This is the story of a man marked by an image from his childhood.

Nothing distinguishes memories from ordinary moments.
Only later do they become memorable
by the scars they leave.

He often wondered
if he'd really seen the image
or just invented that tender moment
to counter the moments of maddness
to follow.

Now he only waited to be executed,
with a memory of a twice-lived moment in time
somewhere inside him.

He ran toward her.
And when he recognized the man who'd trailed him from the camp,
he realized there was no escape out of time,
and that that moment he'd been granted to see as a child,
and that had obsessed him forever after...
was the moment of his own death.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Tale 52

The story I'm going to tell, is not my story.
It's a story whose end, leads to its middle
or in some point of its beginning.

Penelope, sometimes I'm not me.
I mean I'm not the one
I would like me to be.
It's like sometimes
things make you...
things lead you to be something...
while you wish
you were something else.
I want to stop that eventually.
I want to be me.
Even for a little moment.

Sunday, September 21, 2008


Ειναι ενα καινουριο τετραδιο.
Θελω να γαμιομαστε σαν ζωα για τον υπολοιπο χρονο.
Μα αυτο καναμε και πριν
απλως δεν το ειχαμε ορισει.
Η απουσια του, αυτο δεν ειναι ορισμος;
Μην ξεχνας, ειμαι μεσα σε ονειρο
οταν σε πληγωνω.
Ακομη κι αν δεν εισαι εκει,
παλι το νιωθεις, ετσι δεν ειναι;
Ισορροπια πανω σε αορατη κλωστη.
Αμφιβαλλω, σε χανω...
Ποια ειναι η αλλη επιλογη;

Nude by skeros

Wednesday, September 10, 2008


She lied, sir. She has always lied.

I don't think she ever spoke a word of truth.
But when she spoke, I believed her.
I couldn't help it.