Σάββατο, 25 Ιουνίου 2011

Μονόλογος #2 (To Hamlet)

You wake up at 5 a.m. for no apparent reason. Your brain decides you don’t need that precious extra rest so, what the hell, “let’s wake ‘im up”.

You look outside the window. The world is still, silent. Like someone took a picture of it and put it in its place. And suddenly you feel that someone did the same thing to you. That you’re just a three-dimensional picture, captured and forever enslaved in the hands of a god-photographer with bad taste. A photographer who plays with you like an infant with its dolls, moving you and battering you around.

You look again outside the window. The world seems like it’s been separated from its colors. Like someone stole the reds, greens and blues and locked them somewhere safe, far from the grasp of colorblind madness. Like someone made a movie about the world so damn sad that all the yellows, magentas and cyans wept and bled and, ashamed, turned to white and black and gray.

You look outside the window. Again and again and again. You see a dying world and you suddenly realize you’ re seeing it through the eyes of a dying man. “No more games”, you say to yourself. “You’re a big boy now, no more games”. Even if every god damn molecule of your body wants to let go. Let itself flow through the colorless, damp lights of the silent city. Be one with the atmosphere, inhale light and exhale happiness.

But it’s almost 6 a.m. and soon your fellow humans will ruin the sweet sadness of this giant photo of your city. And you feel just fine, so gloomy and so blue that you’re actually liking it and your lips are forming a strange smile. So, let’s not ruin that. Time to sleep. To sleep; perchance to dream.

Τετάρτη, 22 Ιουνίου 2011

Μονόλογος #1

I light up a cigarette.

I feel the smoke filling my lungs.

It burns.

It burns and I feel happy.

Never give up, it's such a wonderful life. It's that song. I've stopped believing in songs a long time ago. A lot of them remind me of things I no longer wish to be reminded of.

I watch the horizon. I watch the sun. I don't care if it's going up or down. It's all a sunset to me.

And suddenly, BOOM, she pops in my head, an unwanted thought in an already crappy day. Your least favorite party- crasher.

I still carry her picture with me though. It lasted longer than us. I knew it would.

Sometimes I think about her all the time. Sometimes I think it'll all be over. Sometimes I think tomorrow may just be a lil' bit better.

And sometimes..

Sometimes I think about killing myself.

It doesn't make me sad. Either way, on a universal scale the world wouldn't give a damn if I disappeared tomorrow. I'm just a tiny, microscopic splinter, clinging on to the edge of our so-called existence.

But sometimes I think the only thing I'm clinging on to is my sanity.

Because, we don't exist. This world does not exist. Nah-ah. Somewhere, there's a big pile of brains, dreaming of life, of this world.

A big, ugly pile of brains, just sitting there in perfect harmony and dreaming of our world, like God woke up one day and decided to play a bad joke on all of us.


A big, ugly, sticky pile of brains.

That's me. And that's you. And that's all of us.

No matter how true the world seems, no matter how painful or joyful it may feel, it's not there.

Can't be there. Must not be there.

And there she goes again, trying to barge into my mind. Funny, how a person's absence can feel so present.


Sometimes I think about killing myself. Maybe I've even tried, once or twice.

Maybe I'll try again.

But for now..

I feel the smoke filling my lungs.

It burns.

It burns and I feel happy.

It burns and, for a second, just a single second..

I feel alive.

Μια (παλιά) σταγόνα αίμα.

(Πιο παλιό από παλιό. Ήμουν μικρός τότε.)

Εστιάζω στο κενό.
Τα μάτια κοκκινίζουν και πρήζονται.
Τα πνευμόνια ρουφάν θειάφι και φτύνουν πόνο.
Στο στήθος ένα βάρος γνωστό, αν μπορούσα θα το άφηνα να με τραβήξει στο μίζερο λάκο που το τραβά η βαρύτητα.
Πόδια κουρασμένα απ'τις βόλτες της ματαιότητας, τσιμεντένιες μπότες και θάλασσες δίχως τέλος.
Δυο μάτια γεμάτα φως και αθωότητα.
Φώτα και αθωότητες χαμένες που μου θυμίζουν δυο μάτια.
Τα φώτα αυτής της πόλης.

Ερωτεύτηκα μέσα σου, Σαλονίκη.
Αγάπησα μέσα σου, Σαλονίκη.
Μίσησα μέσα σου, Σαλονίκη.
Μίσησα τον εαυτό μου που σ'αγάπησα, Σαλονίκη.

Γι' αυτό θα φύγω μακριά.
Κάπου που ο αέρας δε θα είναι θειάφι, κάπου που δε θα με στοιχειώνει ό,τι όμορφο έχω ζήσει.
Κάπου που η ψυχή μου θα αδειάσει απ'τα θλιβερά ποιήματα.

Φτύνω αίμα κι αναμνήσεις.
Το κεφάλι μου σπάει σε χίλια κομμάτια.
Για μια στιγμή, βλέπω το είδωλο σου στα θραύσματα του καθρέφτη.
Για μια φευγαλέα, ακίνητη στιγμή στο χώρο και στο χρόνο, σε βλέπω, όπως τότε.
Με όλη τη χαμένη αθωότητα σου.
Κι έπειτα τα κομμάτια του καθρέφτη, κι εσύ μαζί, γίνονται ένα με τη σάρκα.

Ανοίγω τα χείλη για να φωνάξω.
Θέλω ν'ακουστώ μέχρι τα πέρατα της γης, θέλω ο πιο ξέγνοιαστος άνθρωπος να ακούσει την κραυγή μου και να γεμίσει
η ψυχή του φρίκη, έστω για μια στιγμή.
Ανοίγω τα χείλη, μα δε βγαίνει ήχος.
Δε βγαίνουν λέξεις.
Τα χείλη τρέμουν.
Η γλώσσα γεύεται μια σταγόνα αίμα.

Θέλω να σε καταστρέψω, για να μην αλλάξεις ποτέ ξανά.
Θέλω να σε καταστρέψω, για να μην με καταστρέψεις ποτέ ξανά.
Θέλω να σε καταστρέψω, για να δω, έστω για μια στιγμή, εκείνη τη χαμένη αθωότητα στα μάτια σου, κι ας χαθεί μετά για πάντα.
Θέλω να σε καταστρέψω, για να σ'αγαπώ για πάντα.