I'M NOT TO TALK ABOUT SUNDAYS

I don’t think it’s necessary to portray the way this day of the week appeals to me… I don’t want to refer how depressing it used to seem like when I was a school-boy and how all this have changed… Cause if you really think about it, Sundays should be a blessing and not the saddest day that for the most of the people actually are… Many get the “Sunday syndrome” which means that you feel awful because after a busy week you don’t have a thing to occupy your mind or your body… Well, I don’t get along with that view, at all… I deem that on Sundays there’s usually plenty of time to waste guiltlessly... Sundays are about drinking coffee, reading the papers, and having lunches with the family, wearing your track-suits and your slippers all day long and watching horrible shows on the telly or going for a walk with your friends or something…. Of course all those are in valid only during the winter time cause when it’ s summer, Sundays are all about sharing a few cocktails with friends on a beach….
But as I already pointed in the title … I didn’t want to be referred on Sundays but in something that happened yesterday… As I was driving back home I sort of hit a pigeon with my car… I more or less felt sorry for that cause I don’t drive for very long time, just a couple of months actually, and I’m not the spreading-terror-on -pigeons type of guy … I cherish the thought that it wasn’t my fault cause the pigeon was just walking on the road and I thought it would eventually fly, as it should, but it didn’t… Aren’t the birds supposed to fly instead of walking careless in high-speed roads? On the other hand, as I later thought about it, it may was deaf or something and it couldn’t perceive me coming towards to it… But if that is true, I don’t want to be a “finger of the nature” that clears pigeon-society from the incapable ones…

YOU CAN'T STOP ME FROM SUING MYSELF

I was looking to the Greek-English dictionary the other day and one of the words that randomly crossed my eye was the word masturbation… Who needs a dictionary for that…? Anyway, apart from masturbation there was also given an alternative word for the same meaning; the synonym was a compound word: self- abuse. So, do these two words have the same meaning? Masturbation equals self-abuse?
Conclusively,does that give me the right to sue myself for being repetitively self-abusive?

SO NAKED IN EVERYONE'S EYES

In Brazil they dance in their Gs…
In U. S they trick or treat…
In Greece they celebrate… in general…
In all the other parts of the world I don’t know what they do but I’m sure that they have their own special ways to honor the Halloween spirit… They parade and… and…? Anyway, you got my point…
For most of the people it’s the time of having nonstop fun, getting out of control and enjoying yourself as mush as you can! Well, not for me… Some people can’t stand the Xmas for several reasons. On the other side, I can’t stand Halloween! Not because people get dressed in funny costumes and pretend being something different than what they really are… Absolutely exquisite things to do… It’s just that it reminds me that I disdain the fact that these days, it becomes more and more common, people being afraid to show their true selves during the rest of the time… And it’s a disgrace that nobody seems to bother about that anymore but we just take the situation for granted…
I’m going to declare in this point:
Ladies and gents, the truth is naked! Our true selves are naked! We are neither our posh-labeled nor our “basket-orientated” outfits… If we do not show who we really are, then people will never really get to know us… They will just keep misunderstanding us with our adopted covers… Besides, it’s not so hard to just sacrifice some of our so hard-earned statuses….

4000 WORDS AND A DOZEN MORE

the park...


the back yard...


snowy fields...


snowy trees...

SIBLINGS

my sister...

me...

EVERYBODY CAN BE POETICALLY EXPRESSED SOMETIMES

I’ve thought a lot about whether posting this poem of mine or not, and I feel like I need to explain myself. Allow me that clarification, cause every guy who is not a poet for a living, or even a poet at all, feels kind of bizarre if he reveals this hidden aspect of this…expressive nature of his.
Well, this poem is the only one I’ve ever written although I’ve wrote some song lyrics in the past, however I guess that doesn’t count! (...I like that I can be lead to arbitrary conclusions like the one above, cause it’s my blog anyway and I can do this…!)
It actually… came out of me about five years ago when I used to live in a different city than the one I live today, where I was studying. If you’re wondering the source of the inspiration, I’m telling you that I do too, cause I don’t remember being involved or visioning erotically anyone back in the time I wrote it… Just my imagination…
Here is the scenery description: my sister, a friend of ours and me were in home and my sister was sleeping in her room. So, what do two guys do on a lousy Sunday afternoon when they are fucking bored? Did you say they watch football on TV? Of course you did! Stop being that detrimental! The right answer is that they actually do write a poem! To our defense, the conditions were ideal… This means, foggy-wintery-rainy-hypotonic atmosphere outside; melodic music inside and lights almost switched off. There were probably some candles on as well, but I guess I shouldn’t mention this because that just goes way too far and it’s a huge stroke for our virility. When the writing came to an end we were like…
-“man, what did you write?”
-“oh, that’s good (meaning that’s crap)”
-“yeah”
-“let’s go out now and hit some beers (meaning let’s go out now and hit some beers)”.
Anyway, that’s pretty much how I wrote this poem and now you got the chance to have a nosy glimpse on it or even to comment on it if you fell like...

AND IF

And if the sun will never shine
And if the clouds bring again the rain
I’ll have with me all of our days
The endless love, your shiny face

And if the night delays the dawn
And if I’ll spend my days alone
I’ll keep with me your cordial laugh
Your deepest thoughts, your brightest glance

You walked away just by yourself
Searching for life, searching for help
And here I am in a faceless crowd
And all I see is you, no doubt

Illusions are blowing my head away
Delusions are reflecting all the things I’ll never say
Conclusions are telling I’ll see you some day

Feel the silence, hear the noise
And let the time to make the choice

THE COVER AND OTHER TAKES

It's irrational to have an army of fictional paparazzis running after you and not to have a magazine cover to flaunt about! Even fictional too...

JUST FAMOUS

Here, pretenting being stalked by paparazzi! Be merciful, we're just a bunch of media damaged/alienated kids! Honestly, we had so much fun shootin those... heh


piss off...


we better get out of here...


let me get some...

A HANDY WISDOM

I never collected anything in my life but my sister does. She collects perfume bottles. She’s got a ton of them! She’s kept my mother’s empty perfume bottles, my father’s, hers of course, mine and everyone’s who has the intimacy to ask for his/her empty perfume belongings. Thank god she’s not a cop… She wouldn’t ask for driving licenses and stuff like that but for perfume supplies…
So, I was always surrounded by delicate smells and I was always relating them with the different events that were going on in my life. I never bought a single brand twice, expect one time and each cologne of mine and also some perfumes my sister wears, reminds me of different things. I still remember how my first cologne smells like and I’ve connected it with a time in school when we were protesting for a reason (don’t ask me which) and we literally had conquered the whole place. Innocent years!
There are million other things to think of, like the first time in faculty, the whole atmosphere of two Easters before where I was wearing my dad’s perfume and I loved it and many many others.
All those empty bottles are full of memories! (Well done me, that’s a great poetical sentence!!). So, the times I smell what’s left of them I remember all the great and sometimes ugly (but time make them seem good as well) things I tend to forget.
I can’t say things like "I value perfumes etc for that", they are perfumes nevertheless and that would definitely suck, so I shouldn’t even make an effort, but if I was a brand advertiser I would use the below sentence (sorry, snicky advertoo, I came first). A sentence that came in a moment of great inspiration…

Think twice what perfumes you connect with an event, or even better, what events you connect with a perfume...

I just read the wisdom again and if you really think about it “it’s deep…like my perfume" (God is this ever going to end? I want to think perfumlessly again)

MY BUDDY

My buddy is a girl. It’s so good for a male to have a female pal because besides everything else you get one step closer in realizing what kind of specie they are… If that’s possible…
Specifically, beyond genders, the depicted girl is really intimate to me. I believe there can be friendship between two people of the different sexes if they want to, cause I believe that the importance is not placed in the organ they carry inside their pants (or skirts),but in other factors, such as common sense of humor, common perspective, compassion and understanding. Despite all these, I think that the main element of a successful friendship is lack of competitiveness…
To tell the truth there is a thing we become extreme competitive sometimes: who’s gonna swill faster more beers!

THE WEEPING LIST

When you are experiencing lack of creativity what’s better than making a list. All kinds! Of course we’re not talking about super market weekly shopping lists. Not anything that hollow… So, the following is possibly a common but surely a tried-out list… Films that made you cry your heart out… Nor women neither men. Just movies. So, take my list. Basically, I didn’t really cry with each one of them but they all were definitely good nominees for…
No. 6
Pure A touching movie. English production. A drug-addict mum and her primary matured son who tries to get her out of her pathetic condition.

No. 5
Les choristes A French film. I’d call it the European aspect in the “Dangerous Minds” matters. A teacher tries to discipline with some unorthodox for his times ways some disobedient but talented kids.

No. 4
House of sand and fog. Two great British actors. The same ambition and a tragedy. What else to ask! I was about to cry while I was watching it but my family was around and I felt kind of embarrassed.

No. 3
Dear Frankie. I guess a Scottish production. The same touching motive for a guy. A son and an absent father. It is a bit complicated to describe it any further but it was good.

No. 2
Armageddon. Everybody knows it, I guess. A hint of tear showed up when the previously- stubborn later- self-uninterested father sacrifices his self for his daughter’s good. And universe’s of course. It’s an American film after all.

No. 1
Billy Elliot. The film I really cried. You know, to tell the truth I was desperately trying to find out the film that would make me weep the shit out of me. That film was the one. I liked it because it was not bittersweet in the corny way. Again, a relationship between father and son (such a cliché, I admit) and a big dream/aspiration/opportunity. I definitely recommend it to the ones who are still looking for the ultimate I-need-some-handkerchiefs film.

BEING SIXTEEN AGAIN

Last night I thought about visiting my grandma. We have a special bond together plus I feel terrible when I know that she spends so much time just by herself. Especially, now that it’s winter time and she has to stay in home for days without going anywhere from fear of getting cold or something. She’s…plenty… years old, you see.
Well, as I was saying, I was about to get in when to my surprise I heard her laughing and talking and laughing again. Of course you’re gonna say that this fact is not weird, at all. I agree but it’s kind of weird when you are on your own, don’t you think? So, I thought that probably senility was right beside me. That means “by her door”. I questioned myself, isn’t it kind of late for a plenty-year old lady to have an imaginary friend? Because there are only two certain things in this planet when it comes to the imaginary friends topic. When a small kid talks to one of them then it’s imaginative but when an old lady does then she’s probably started dating Mr. Alzheimer!
Thankfully, my grandma wasn’t an additional name of this seducer’s long seduced list; she was just talking on the phone! Of course, the phone! There’s always a phone! How could I forget those evil machines? When she hang up, she told me that she was talking with a friend she had lost contact with for about forty years but they had incidentally crashed again each other recently.
Yeah, that’s good! My nana is not senile, she just feels sixteen or fifteen again and she can have her “girlfriends” as she did in the past! She still has the right to goof around for hours on the phone for as much as she wants!
- Nan, what do these three olives do in your water? And why it is on a martini glass? Don’t tell me you’re having a martini…
- It is called “dry”, you ignorant moron

ALMOST LIKE SEX

Something weird happened few days ago. It was the news time and I was having the TV on but it was on “mute”, so I couldn’t really figure out what they were talking about. You see, I simultaneously was trying to read but I couldn’t help but notice that all the people who were part of the news broadcast, were beaming like they all had sex the previous night! I don’t mean all together but separately. I hope, at least…
Overcoming that, I kept on reading (yeah, I read with the TV on) and when I changed the channel (I do that too) I noticed the same (I had sex last night looking) thing again. So, I increased the volume to see if I was just mad or if something else was happening. To my surprise the "hot new" of the day was the government reformation. It was the thing that media people were waiting for such a long time and I assumed that everybody was so excited it actually happened that they were feeling kind of horny by the proceedings! The fact itself intrigued my curiosity and here is what I suppose the next best beaming factor or maybe even equally considerable beaming factor compared to sex for some job owners:
Singer- his/her single hits directly No1 in US and UK charts
Record company owner- his/her singers hit directly No1 in US and UK charts with no promotion expenses at all
Soccer player- scoring in the 4th minute of delays
Teacher- non warning math test to the class he loathes and every student fails
Striper- when he/she finds a forgotten buck in his/her undies while scratching you know his/her what the morning after the show
Weatherman- when he’s the only one caring an umbrella in his bag a sunny summery day and it eventually rains
Model- when the press informs her that car accidents have been increased since the day her new campaign posters have been placed all around
Female porn star- when the director says "cut"
Lawyer-the moment he/she says "objection, your owner"
Although for most of people it’s not a job: an unhappy wife- the moment subsequently her husbie’s sentence "I come"


WONDERING

How do you become the guy who fires the gun so the 100meter athletes begin to run and how do you call that job?

INAUGURAL

Hello world web users! Hello to everyone who accidentally or not, happened to stumble on this site. Well, I became a blogger but the truth is that I don’t know yet what kind of things I’m going to post here. Many people I know have created blogs and I thought why wouldn’t I? Even thought, I acknowledge that I’m not like the wisest man in the universe and our planet can go on revolving brilliantly without my splendid posts as it did before. Well, blogs are usually e-diaries and I’m totally fine with this (who would care anyway even if I wasn’t) but I want this blog to be something different simply because I’ve never felt before in my whole life the urgency to write down what’s going on into my microcosm.
Don’t get me wrong with this diary thing. Either way, I have a great enviable relationship with diaries. But just with other people’s diaries. You see, when I was in high school I used to read my sister’s. It was fine but my complaint was that she had never mentioned me in any of them (she had wrote two back then). I had reached to a point where I was feeling kind of what we call “the invisible man”. It took me some time, much more money and a lot of corporation with my amiable shrink to admit that I am actually “substantial”! Anyway, my shrink didn’t help me also to stop the annoying habit of sneaking into other people’s lives by reading their diaries. It’s just that my sister one day…just like that…just stopped writing. That’s a shame sis, cause you were so good in that! I mean, where all that imagination was coming from? All I’m saying is, I used to know what was going on in her life that time and none of the events was as spectacular/awful/paradox/unprecedented as she was describing them!
Sister I’m just trying to be funny! You know that I love you! You see, you never wrote anything about me in any of your diaries and you are the star in my opening post! That’s what I call unselfish love!
That’s all for the time being, bye to every one reading this, update you later

PS for the ones who didn’t get it, that whole shrink thing meant to be nothing but a cute joke. I may be a little bit crazy but I can control myself perfectly! Still, at least