The story I'm going to tell, is not my story. It is the story of someone, who is telling a story which is very similar to his own. The dream I will remember, won't be mine. It's the dream of someone who remembers a dream, that is very similar to his own. I think of stories I like to make stories. To tell them. I know this must sound like the dream of little Iasonas. What will he be when he grows up. When I wake up, it'll happen again. It'll start all over...
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Friday, October 03, 2008
Three times
Saturday, September 27, 2008
La Jetée
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
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.
Yourself.
I want to stop that eventually.
I want to be me.
Even for a little moment.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Dialogue
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;
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Carmen
I don't think she ever spoke a word of truth.
But when she spoke, I believed her.
I couldn't help it.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Thirst
Νιωθει και παλι σαν παιδι, θελει να ανακαλυψει τον κοσμο.
Καποιες φορες ζηταει απο οποιονδηποτε να παιξει το ρολο του γονιου.
Να του μαθει πως ειναι ο κοσμος, να απαντησει σε ολες τις ερωτησεις του
περιμενει τις απαντησεις χωρις ανασα.
Σαν ενα μικρο παιδι, που πιστευει οτι κι αν του πεις.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Αναπνεω
Ειναι εκεινη η απιστευτη στιγμη που στεκεσαι εκει κι απο πανω σου μικρα αγγελακια χορευουν και πλεκουν το πεπλο τους μονο για σενα... λες και υπαρχεις μονο εσυ στη γη.
Ειναι εκεινη η στιγμη που τα αστερια κανουν παρεες στον ουρανο και μιλουν για σας... μονο για σας... Και μας βλεπουν και μας παρακολουθουν... και κρυφογελουν μαζι μας... γιατι σκεφτομαστε... Με την λογικη... κι αυτα γελουν μαζι μας γιατι ξερουν το πλανο που εχουν καταστρωσει για τον καθενα μας, για μας... και γελουν γιατι ξερουν οτι στο τελος το πλανο τους θα μπει σε πρωτη λειτουργια.
Τοτε ειναι που τα αγγελακια αγγιζουν την ακρη των τακουνιων σου και σε κατευθυνουν σε εκεινον... οτι κι αν λεει το μυαλο σου... Το μυαλο σου αδειαζει, σε εκθειαζει, αισθανεσαι μονο το καλοκαιρινο αερακι να γλυφει το μαγουλο σου... και πας και περπατας σαν υπνωτισμενη. Ηρεμη ομως και μεθυστικη.
Οι αισθησεις σου εχουν ανεβει. Κοιτας τον κοσμο και δεν τον βλεπεις. Μυριζεις αρωματα που οι γυρω σου δεν μυριζουν. Οι λαμψεις απο τα φωτα σου αρεσουν οπως δε σου αρεσαν πριν... και προχωρας.
Και να τα αγγελακια και παλι. Και τα αστερακια εξακολουθουν και γελουν μαζι σου...
Συνομωτουν... και τοτε ειναι που πιανουν το δαντελενιο σου εκρου πουκαμισο και του τιναζουν τη χρυσοσκονη πανω του και τα ματια σου γυαλιζουν τοσο ωστε να γινονται ακαταμαχητα, τα μαλλια σου σαγηνευτικα και το χαμογελο σου ακαταμαχητο... κι εκεινη ακριβως την ωρα που σε βλεπει μονο εκεινος και υπαρχεις μονο εσυ για εκεινον, τ’ αστερακια ριχνουν τη μαγικη τους σκαλα και του ψιθυριζουν στο αυτι
‘Ερωτευσου την... ειναι ο ερωτας μπροστα σου. Κοιτα την. Ειναι δικη σου’
Σ' αγαπω
Αναπνεω
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Angels
They've created an image of everything.
They expect images to allay their fears, fulfill their dreams,
provide their pleasures, satisfy their longings.
Remember how simple it once was?
We would appear to them and put words into their hearts.
We could say "Fear not, I've come to proclaim".
Monday, June 30, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
A ray of sunshine
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Faraway
Οταν ενας αγγελος κατεβηκε στη γη, ειδε αυτο:
Each one creates his own world within his own vision and hearing.
He remains a prisoner in it.
And from his cell, he sees the cells of others.
They, humans, are confined by what’s visible, Raphaela.
Only what they can see matters. It’s all they believe in.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Wings
a time to every purpose under heaven.
There is a time to be born
a time to die
a time to kill
a time to heal
a time to weep
a time to laugh
a time to seek
a time to keep silent
a time to speak
a time to love
a time to hate
a time for conflict.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
At the Arctic Circle

This is where the Arctic Circle runs.
There the sun won´t go down in the summer.
That´s the midnight sun.
I wish I were born without a tongue,
that way I would have an excuse.
I'll wait here as long as it takes. I wait on the greatest luck in my life.
I have known a lot of different kinds of luck.
Luck runs through my life like a continuous thread.
It's good that life passes in circles. But mine consists of one circle,
and not even a complete one.
The most important is missing.