Bliss reminds me that I’m forgetting something

like a wool coating I knit for my frozen insides

I used to be super demanding, super solid

then one day I said “I don’t want to talk anymore, I just want to go out and have fun”

finally an undisturbed state of maturity and internalised hurt

and the night slowly crept inside me

“you only forgive people you don’t really depend on”

so the dependable cannot be forgiven while the unreliable cannot be but transient

and the trans of the transient prevails

and translates into bliss for a stable body temperature of below zero

but I wonder how can they not see

in such adverse body conditions how can one reject transient warm wooly bliss?

and how can we not see that the sum of many blissful encounters is a terrifyingly solid relationship with your favourite wooly jumper

a political act of reduced entropy

an eternal transient encounter with warmth

a war against a life full of small everyday doses of taxed conventional decay

I’ll take my decay warm and dadaist, thank you very much


Masturbation society

I have recently found myself on returning to Athens from a trip in Europe, exhausted by my social life. After 20 days away, I was dying to go back home and reunite with my friends. During the first week of my return almost every day there was someone to meet, something to do. Ten days later I was starting to feel like I already couldn’t do it anymore. We were sitting there with all my darling dear friends talking about the life we were not living, the choices we were not making, the people we were not with… ultimately subjecting ourselves to a perpetual ritual of group masturbation. The time we were spending together, was time killed in a soft and self-assuring way, it was life high on artificial sweetness. It’s nice to masturbate I guess, it’s also sort of essential, but it’s pretty frustrating when that’s all you’re doing.

I guess there is a reason why the most popular greek swear-word is “μαλάκας” – greek for “masturbator”, also functioning in a friendly teasing manner. Life is at our feet, I know cause I’ve lived elsewhere and nothing I’ve seen compares to the diversity of microhabitats you find here. I’ve never seen plants grow out of concrete with such vigour, although I’m pretty aware it could all be due to poor quality concrete, neither have I seen beaches and mountains as pretty and human-friendly as these. However, all this environmental easygoingness can partly be held responsible for our frustrating levels of behavioural easygoingness.

In the midst of national bankrupcy, even immigrants crammed in this country and hit by poverty, ignorance and racism, seem to cause minor crime rise. That I find fucken striking. The state is not only ignoring them and doing nothing to integrate them, but occasionally spits out medieval racist insults towards them, followed by guidelines aiming to protect the good law-abiding indigenous people. And yet all these people who have found themselves here in a desperate effort to escape war and poverty somehow manage to survive without opting for murder or theft. Could they have actually been affected by our national humanitarian easygoingness? I think, well maybe. And if that’s true, then greek masturbators may actually have a point in their soft, unsophisticated and unmanaged way of life. It could well be that masturbation culture successfully integrates immigrants. Match that Northern Europe with your subsidised language teaching schools, your professional training seminars, your civilised job centres and your cultural openmindedness!

If only there was a slight challenge posed to me, I guess I would probably see all this under a more favourable light and if only I didn’t have loving friends around me all of the freaking time I would be motivated to take life more seriously. I guess it is some kind of challenge trying to analyse this shit for a change… but even if I do, I’d still be stuck with nothing else to do with it than use it as a masturbation aid.