We wonder how come aliens never seem to reveal themselves. The math doesn’t add up and it remains a mystery.

I have been debating polyamory with a friend some time now. My stance is a very negative one towards it. At a mature age, after many affairs, flings and relationships, you come to understand that a heart has its limits, even though desire might know none.

Love has the ability to bend time and space, it is the essence of infinite possibilities. Read any Asimov short story or novel. The man was a biochemist and understood exactly how time and space is bent by love.

Time and space have limits to what extent they can be bent, the same way that polyamory is an excess and violation of natural laws to me. We can bend time and space thus far, but in the end of the day all we have is energy and that is defined by our molecular organisation.

When we’re in love we seek fortune tellers like madmen, we look for guarantees and rush to make promisses, but it’s futile. Love is what makes the future unknown, what creates people and kills them. Love is what math is still failing to account for.

What if we came to see that we are the true aliens, the true mystery in the universe?


An std

Romantic love always moves upwards from between your legs to your stomach, heart and head.

truth before a certain period

There comes a time when every heartbreak, disappointment or wrong turn in life accumulates into a dark mass that is more solid and profound than anything else. Anything good and warm and even ultimately positive that came out of all of that just seems ike the product of your super-human desire to survive. At that time, you might be blessed enough for someone ignorant and free to offer their love and the only thing you can think of is “for the love of god, your retarded god and my black-hole god, stay away from me, save yourself and save anything pretty we might have shared”. That time usually comes every month a couple of days before my period. And yet my cry is truth: “God why did you have to make me a primitive hopeless animal programmed for reproduction and death?”

defeated winners

Shocked, always shocked by the sweeteness

days and monts fighting to breathe in thick dusty air

assholes everywhere, a sea of assholes driving cars

a slow brave transformation into an untouchable bitch

a cold calculator of every decimal digit of any possible significance

and literally out of nowhere

shaking with the daunting improbability of a divine plan

at exactly the wrong and right moment

compassionate eyes that fall directly on you

humbling you to the point at which you may disappear and loose yourself

at the crossroads I wonder if I’m eaching more for the lost bitch or the lost time

only defeated can I ever win

The age of bullying

Essentially the post-recession rise of fascism in the western world had a very subtle impact on society. It involved many incidents of violence and murder and some institutionalisation with participation in parliaments and decision-making centres, but the most profound impact had to do with instillation of fear in people. After a wave of insolent violence, which created a counter wave of solidarity, everything seemingly calmed down in Greece with Syriza coming to power. I have heard from immigrants themselves that the Syriza government created a perceived retreat in fascist violent attacks, however, most “peaceful and respectful” citizens were scarred with fear, burdened with the awareness that fascism is still alive and well.

Small references implying racism and conservatism blending in most bizarrely with political-correctness can be heard more widely than ever through the cracks of external decency. The lack of political education and the distortion of modern history by all sides, left a lot of people who are just taken by the wind to whichever direction feels safest, with a subtle fascist dialectic enriching their speech.

One of my son’s friends was walking down Lycabettus with us and some other kids when he asked me how come we were going that way, “I’ve parked the car in Exarchia (area where most anarchist groups are based)” I replied. “Are you an anarchist then?” he went on to inquire, to which I replied “no dear, it’s just that Exarchia is the only place in central Athens where you can park your car for free”, “you like throwing stones at the police and smashing things, don’t you?” he insisted. I’ve known his parents for several years and nothing could justify this small attack.

This and other small trivial incidents, where people are so overcome with fascist propaganda and fear that it starts showing how little culture or sophistication their souls truly perspire, remind me that there are things boiling underneath us all and a volcanic eruption may be unavoidable, unless a global act of justice may finally put idiots at ease for a while.

It’s a time when no one feels safe and taxation is so unrealistic that everyone feels targeted and unable to maintain the low profiles the majority is usually comfortable with. At this time, no alternative, even on a theoretic basis can begin to sparkle even small-talk, not to mention debate. People are so scared really, that they are willing to take the side of the biggest bully.

And after a long period of wondering “how did wwII come about?” finally came a period of “ahaaaa that’s how it works!”. Everyone leading aimless existences likes being punished or rewarded according to a system of justice and what principles justice follows is irrelevant, as long as there is a system and everyone leads aimless existences in a non-existent economy, unless they’re poets. So we wait for a new system and the longer the wait the more unprecedented the outcome, as the eagerness will be too great to contain.

zombie herd of sheep

-The sheep are dead!

-How can they be dead? who killed them?

-I did.

-How could you? How did you kill them? Did they know they were going to die?

-No, they had no idea. I killed them with a gun.

-Hmmm at least they didn’t know.

-Do you realise they might come back and haunt you? That herd, always so willing to follow you around and lick you, so soft and whooly. Oh god why?

-They are dead, I made money.

-What kind of man are you?

-I didn’t enjoy killing them, you know.

-But you were the one who caused their death. They are now meat.

-Clearly, but you know I would much rather have meat that I know lived a happy life.

-Meat living a life, happy matter, life, food, I can’t even begin to understand how all these things are related.

-I do.

-Baaaaaaaa baaaaaaa…. Can you hear that? It’s the sheep back to haunt you… You used to have a herd of sheep in your garden, now you have a zombie herd of sheep!

-Ha ha ha, you’re an idiot.

-I know, but emm… yeah.

my best friend, brain

My brain is like a cat and sadly I hate cats, they have so little consideration for the collective

it loves finding boxes and enclosing itself

it usually comes out at the most unexpected times

and knocks over a vase with flowers I was carefully arranging for hours

it is at its most embarrassing when sexually attracted to people and ideas

it pleases itself with obscenities that serve no other purpose than its unsatisfiable hunger for play

it lacks eyes, ears and nose and just curls up next to the wrong people purring like an idiot

it mostly enjoys reading books by complete assholes

the few times we like the same books I announce it to everyone triumphantly

little do they know what I have to go though with this tasteless horny idiot all the time

it just finished reading a book by Celine

it really liked it and I find it quite embarrassing

he was a fucken sick fascist, brain! I cry out, but it just doesn’t care

I’m really angry at the moment and I need to stop writing and get drunk

I am not normally violent, but sometimes I even suspect it has phallocratic tendencies

we’re freaking girls!!!

Oh no was that another brain cell dieing?

Oh no, poor brain, so sorry for you… NOT!

a day in southpark

Bullshit all day long

streets paved with idiots

my life paved with idiots

chasing me forever

calling me to tell me I was right

“hello idiot, so kind of you to remind me you existed”

elongated genitals in my inbox

the only thing they have to show

regurgitating information

brains melting like ice-cream

slimy sticky brains weighting over shoulders

complete override of disgust

conservatism praised for its graceful nothingness

narcissism styled to perfection

a desire to devour

like maniacs looking without seeing

screaming in silence

swallowing without tasting

revenge on everyone’s mind

Céline smiling from hell

and yet

nature beautifully tagging everything with expiration dates

a tree

When I have my son’s friends over they blurt out outrageously freudian unconsciously formed phrases. They are completely uninhibited, which puts me in a position of having to constantly re-establish the boundaries. My own son is pretty clear about the context. However, the setting is completely unfamiliar to his friends. They can be insulting and uncontrollable, even though they’re very nice kids normally. This reminds me of my own friends sometimes, only it’s more blatant, due to their lack of defenses and references. We grew from primary freudian and darwinian readings to frommian and steinbeckian social understandings – the meaning being less important than the intention of writing what they did. I can feel that the outside world feels how this makes us socially dysfunctional and yet desirable. A world they might like to attack and yet feed from. A destructive desire for something insulting the surrounding pretenses and the numbing overstimulation they’re forced to become accustomed to and something that may entail the danger of altering you if you were to deconstruct it. We talk about it when everyone’s gone, listening to music and being complete freaks in our literary dimension of existence. But it makes it so much more clear that we live in a dystopian cannibalistic society and it fills us both with awe that we haven’t been devoured yet after 12 years. Whatever the references, every family feels like this sometimes. This is what is probably created after years of whispering a certain personal narrative to a small ear, often unwilling to hear. Like background noise, collectively appreciated one day as out-of-tune music or a tree reiterating, sometimes towards the wrong direction, due to ultraviolet radiation.

white noise

I sat with a man who makes white noise when he opens his mouth

I was trying to explain things because they told me that being elaborate enables collective thoughtfulness

but all I got in reply was white noise

he made very good points that dissolved my efforts to keep food well refrigerated

I feared for the germs that would develop in the tomato sauce can

but he gave me a canned tomato sauce refrigeration manual to read, explaining that the microbes were really nothing a healthy immune system could not cope with rather effortlessly

that night I dreamed a movie, it was about a pregnant woman who opts to continue with her life instead of giving birth

no need to bring anything to life before it’s aching to come out

when I woke up I wasn’t pregnant, I had tomato sauce on my fingers and the fridge was making blissful autumn sounds