i woke up this morning, simply because the sun was so powerful. It left me with no choice. It’s ten in the morning. A strong black coffee, accompanies my tongue and the music of Federico Abele accompanies my ear. I look outside my window; two filthy pigeons are having sex, i guess it’s THAT time of the year. I take a good sip of my coffee and while taking a good look at the sun and the pigeons I m thinking … yeah, this is Athens. I need to move my feet, my body. I wear whatever is closer to me, eat an apple, pack the notebook and the pen in my back bag and I am off, for wandering. Shit, I forgot to brush my teeth…
I find myself at Strefi Hill (Exarchia, sunny afternoon) as we speak… no, actually we don’t speak at all. Below my eyes, i witness the existence of monotonous grey, filth and buildings in anarchy. They have, successfully, managed to stretch over the natural limits of the city: the sea, the mountains… as far as the eye can see, buildings together with noise, brings me into a state of liveliness or alert, i should say. Above my eyes, there is this strong sun and the bluest sky. Nothing more, nothing less. I am alone right now. This brings me into a state of Union : Just me and the rocks. Below my feet, millions of puppets are on the go; pretending they have no free time, wearing masks , trying to show off, trying to show their good side. Man, i wonder, how much insecurity dresses this monstrous city. I feel related, connected with all the homeless, the victims, the aliens, the free men, the freaks and of course all the sexymothafuckahs.
Sun is too strong, right now, and I need to protect my tree. I need to find a spot with enough shade cause it’s been only two weeks i had the tattoo. The Kalpataru Tree is resting on my back, between my shoulders. Let it be, from now on, to fulfill my wishes, to offer me its fruits. To lay its roots all over my body and, finally, blossom. So that, strange and colorful birds may nest on its branches…and i ll be just fine. Happy, complete. However, right now, I can only feel exhaustion. Yesterday i worked for 9 hours, doing the most boring thing: walking through neighborhoods, littering all the streets, the cars and houses, with pizza offers and other crappy leaflets. The funny thing is that i didn’t get paid. I heard the scary voice whispering like the wind… you’ve got 20 euro left…After that, i don’t really know. In fact i don’t care.
Hm..This new spot here, offers a great view of my last room, close to Alexandras Ave. I have nothing but great memories from that room (my sanctuary…), from that part of the city, from that part of myself. I think it is best then, to make this new spot my observatory…so, what do you see? What are your thoughts now?
I just cannot believe it. June is nearly here. Summer will shortly follow, with grace and attitude. No feeling of it, nothing at all. Still, everything changes around me, i just don’t pay attention…Flowers and trees are on their peak, the refreshing soft, summery smells, the length of daylight which grows day by day (and i fucking love it), the sandals i m wearing and all the tourists around me. Here i am, in the city that has gifted me, unconditionally, with great ups and downs over the last three years. I am thinking about that room I see now, all sorts of holidays, all the winters and all the summers and of course, all the endless walks from one part of the city to the other. Different paths each time, same feet walking. Most of all, i m thinking about all the people i have met here. Some of them became really good friends, some others became brothers and sisters, few became mistakes, others became lovers, some satisfied, others not. And that’s about it. I would be ungrateful to believe that this city didn’t offer me great things. The point is how I accepted these gifts and how I dealt with every situation. Here at my new observatory, the wind touches my face and hugs my hair…
Is this wind coming from the islands? An ancient forest? Or, from the cement mountains of the Athenian landscape i happen to witness now?
I grab him. I hold him in my hands. I become dust and i travel with him. Hot, almost summery, soft, enormous. He waters every hope and freshness inside my tired brain and rotten face. He makes me think, that many of the things I believe to be important in everyday life, in fact, are completely insignificant.. almost everything but these: peacefulness, stillness, creativity, real love and real friendship.
Man, it’s so nice being up here right now! I also have a joint with me along with the pen, the notebook, the view, the sun.
To my surprise, i have, just, realized that there is also another figure, sitting, observing the city through his own eyes…how come i haven’t noticed him earlier? pff, my ego won’t let me see out of my box sometimes. Does this mean that this new spot can’t be my new observatory then? Shit…I see him now. I pay attention…he sits there doing pretty much what i am doing all this time: writing, smoking, feeling the sun, thinking, dreaming. This makes me wonder if we, the puppets, seek solitude in this overpopulated city or that we, the puppets, are truly on our own, simply, forced to live with each other, to share this space? . I am not really sure, but i’ll go with the last one. We are nothing but space, we live in space, we share space, and we create space between ourselves, first and foremost, but also with each other..
….I wish i was in Morocco right now..