Corporate Uncomfortable

The company I work for is trying to revamp itself and so, they created a video with key-points of the company's future, goals and expectations.

All employees are required to watch the video along with a powerpoint presentation. Today was my turn to attend to the session.

At the end of it, we were separated in groups and told to share our thoughts. We were clearly stirred towards sharing our positive thoughts -even though it was supposed to be a feedback 'workshop.'

Most people were saying how they loved the video, how clear it was, how positive it was, blah blah blah.

All I could think of was that we watched a 20 minute video of three extremely well dressed white people, with high positions reading from a teleprompter. You could tell by the movement of their eyes. It was all rehearsed, it was all acted out. No true meaning behind their words, merely repeating words appearing in the monitor.

These words, however, aimed at 'brainwashing' us and used the power of suggestion to promote certain behaviours or thoughts. The words 'proud,' 'community' and 'inspiration' were repeated constantly.

What struck me as awkward was that a filthy rich white man was talking about community, being part of the local community, and a second later he was saying we have to reduce our discounts to increase profit.
I wanted to scream at the screen "You have no fucking clue what community is you entitled prick!"
It's like seeing a warlord preaching about peace.
Oxymoron doesn't even begin to describe it.

What struck me as unacceptable though, was that there were only white people on the video. Even when they were showing ads relevant to the company, not even once was a POC featured.

And thus, when they asked us for our opinion, I mentioned that there wasn't enough racial diversity on the video. The two middle aged white men who are higher-ups in our division and were part of our team started mumbling "What do you mean?" "Can you explain this?" and they looked terrified.
I told them "I mean there were only white people on the video, we need more diversity as a company."
And even though they shook their head, supposedly agreeing with me, when they time came for all teams to share bullet points of their opinions, mine was painfully ignored.

I also dared ask them about the 'inspiring the community' part of the pretentious speech on the video, and they referred to charity (a.k.a giving away money that will be a tax right off), but absolutely no interactive activities provided by our company for the local community.

Basically, they want to be an elitist 'club' for the rich, all the while pretending to care for the local community by doing the bare minimum to prove said 'care.'

And unfortunately, this is how most corporations operate.

Welcome to the real -capitalist- (dystopian) world...

The big 3.

Every year, just before or after my birthday, I write a post reflecting on the past, being mostly negative about the future and generally expressing my fear of time.

This year is no exception, especially since this is an important year; It's the year I turn 30.

-So what? someone may ask.

Well, the big 3 means I'm not only changing decade, but I'm entering the adult world.
Being in my 20s isn't going to be an excuse good enough to justify not getting my shit together. I'm not a teenager anymore, nor am I in my post teen years.
30 signifies the death of my inner child, and even though that sounds grim, I find it to be true.  The inner child needs protection, is codependent, and knows that they have a 'security blanket' at all times. The inner child is innocent, playful and carefree. And even though I could try to hold on to whatever innocence I have left, none of the rest can be part of adult me, if I want to survive.

And that is scary as fuck.
It's like bungee jumping, but not knowing if the rope will hold your weight or break. So, even though 'growing up' is something I know and recognise I have to do, I'm terrified.

That fear had been so intense it had paralysed me. Thankfully, I've done a lot of work on myself in the past two years, so I'm somewhat coping, but still, the fear is there.

The fact that me turning 30 coincides with returning to England, re-starting my life once again (with my partner this time), and getting a full time job irrelevant to any of my studies or interests, shows the next chapter has arrived.

Hopefully, as the pages turn, fear will dissolve and maybe a more positive emotion -followed by a more positive outcome- will come after it.

Wish me luck y'all, I'll definitely need it.

XoXo,
Lara  

Ένα 'πρεζάκι' που το λέγανε Αντώνη

Σήμερα είχα πάει στο κέντρο να πάρω κάτι δώρα από το Μοναστηράκι.
Όπως κατέβαινα την Ηφαίστου είδα αίματα.
Ξεκινούσαν από την αρχή της και έφταναν μέχρι και το τέλος της.
Ρωτάω μία κοπέλα έξω από ένα μαγαζί που έριχνε νερά και χλωρίνη τι έγινε.
-Ένα πρεζάκι πέρασε και του τρέχανε αίματα, μου είπε με αηδία.
Συνέχισα να περπατάω και μπήκα σε ένα μαγαζί να ψωνίσω κάτι. Ρώτησα την κοπέλα του μαγαζιού αν ήξερε κάτι για το 'πρεζάκι.'
-Όχι, δεν το είδα καν. Τώρα είδα τα αίματα που μου το είπες εσύ. Ξέρεις τι βλέπουμε εδώ πέρα κάθε μέρα; Είναι πολύ επικίνδυνα.

Καμία ανησυχία για το άτομο από το οποίο προήλθε το αίμα.

Συνεχίζω το περπάτημα και βλέπω έναν τύπο να κάθεται στα σκαλιά έξω από το σταθμό Μοναστηρακίου και ένα παιδί χωρίς μπλούζα που είχε δέσει την μπλούζα του στο πόδι του.
Ολόγυρά τους λίμνες αίματος.
Είδα και 2-3 αστυνομικούς να κάθονται λίγο πιο κει και να κοιτάνε.

-Είναι καλά; Θέλετε βοήθεια; τους είπα.
-Τον μαχαίρωσαν στο πόδι, μου λέει το παιδί που είχε τυλίξει την μπλούζα του γύρω από την πληγή και την πάταγε για να μη χαθεί άλλο αίμα.

Ήταν περίπου 1.30μμ.

-Έχετε καλέσει ασθενοφόρο; ρωτάω έναν αστυνομικό.
-Ναι, έρχεται, μου λέει ανέκφραστος.

Στην επόμενη μιάμιση ώρα, γιατί τόσο έκανε να έρθει το ασθενοφόρο, είχαμε πιάσει την κουβέντα με το 'πρεζάκι,' τον Αντώνη, και το παιδί που τον βοήθησε, που έτυχε να είναι νοσηλευτής στο ΚΑΤ, το Σίφη.

Ο Αντώνης Οικονομάκος είναι 37 χρονών, τοξικομανής. Τον μαχαίρωσε μία συμμορία Μαροκινών από ό,τι μας είπε όταν είχε πάει να πάρει τη δόση του. Πότε ακριβώς έγιναν όλα αυτά ή αν έγιναν έτσι όπως μας τα είπε δε γνωρίζουμε. Τη μία έλεγε ότι τον μαχαίρωσαν πριν πέντε μέρες, την άλλη πριν τρεις. Δεν ήθελε να μας πει περιοχή και λεπτομέρειες "γιατί ακούνε οι μπάτσοι."
Του πήρα ένα μπουκαλάκι νερό. Οι αστυνομικοί ούτε που τον είχαν ρωτήσει αν χρειάζεται κάτι.
-Πεινάω, πεινάω! φώναζε.

Κανείς.

Ο Σίφης συνέχιζε να πατάει την μπλούζα του στην πληγή.
-Πονάω! φώναζε ο Αντώνης.

Σε κάποια φάση μας είπε ότι έχει HIV.
-Ευτυχώς φόρεσα γάντια, είπε ο Σίφης.
Αλλά δε σταμάτησε ούτε δευτερόλεπτο να πατάει την πληγή.
Οι αστυνομικοί όταν το άκουσαν πήγαν κάποια βήματα πιο πέρα.
Του είπα ότι δεν έγινε και κάτι, πολύς κόσμος ζει με HIV.
Μάς είπε ότι υποφέρει πολύ που ζει με αυτήν την αρρώστια, ότι γενικά έχει περάσει πολύ δύσκολα, και δεν είναι η πρώτη φορά που του επιτίθενται. Μας έδειξε και τις ουλές στα πόδια του, όλες από μαχαιριές.

Τον ρώτησα αν έχει κάποιο συγγενή ή φίλο που μπορούμε να ειδοποιήσουμε, μου είπε πως είναι μόνος του και δεν έχει κανένα.

Παρότι ήταν ακόμη 'φτιαγμένος,' βρώμικος, και πονούσε, τα πράσινα μάτια του σου μιλούσαν. Σου έλεγαν ότι δε θέλει την εξαθλίωση. Ότι θέλει να ζήσει με αξιοπρέπεια.
Μέσα στον πόνο του έκανε και χιούμορ, και γενικά φαινόταν ότι είναι άνθρωπος με αντίληψη και σπιρτάδα, ασχέτως της εξάρτησής του.
Γιατί ο Αντώνης, εκτός από 'πρεζάκι' είναι και άνθρωπος. Άνθρωπος με προσωπικότητα και με μια ιστορία.

-Γιατί με κοιτάνε; είπε κάποιες φορές θυμωμένος.
-Άστους να κοιτάνε, του είπαμε με το Σίφη, και μετά αστειευτήκαμε για άλλες φορές που έχουν κοιτάξει εμάς.
Του είπα ότι τον κοιτούσαν επειδή έχει ωραία μάτια και μου λέει:
-Ξέρεις πόσο ωραίος είμαι άμα δεν έχω τα μούσια και τα μαλλιά και πλυθώ; Είμαι πολύ βρώμικος.
-Ε, ευκαιρία να κάνεις και τζαμπέ μπανάκι, του λέω.
Και πάλι γελούσαμε.

Οι περαστικοί τον έβλεπαν σα θέαμα. Κάποιοι κοιτούσαν με αποστροφή, κάποιοι με περιέργεια, αλλά κανείς δε ρώτησε ούτε μία φορά "Είναι καλά;"

-Πεινάω! ξαναείπε.
Τον ρώτησα τι τρώει και είπε μια ζαμπονοτυρόπιτα. Του πήρα μία και του την έφερα.
Δεν το πίστευε.
-Σ'ευχαριστώ πολύ! μου είπε πέφτωντας με τα μούτρα.
-Πόσες μέρες έχεις να φας;
-Πέντε; μέτρησε με τα δάχτυλά του.
Μπορεί να μην ήταν πέντε, μπορεί να ήταν δύο ή τρεις. Αλλά και μία μέρα να περάσει που ένας άνθρωπος δε βρίσκει να φάει, είναι απαράδεκτο.
Κάθε τόσο του θυμίζαμε να πείνει λίγο νερό.

Οι αστυνομικοί είχαν ανησυχήσει γιατί τα αίματα ήταν πολλά και μέσα στη μέση και φοβόντουσαν μην τα πιάσει κανένα παιδάκι. Η καθαρίστρια του ηλεκτρικού σιχαινόταν ή φοβόταν να τα καθαρίσει. Όταν ήρθε τελικά μετά από 40 λεπτά με μια σφουγγαρίστρα την κρατούσε όσο πιο μακρυά της μπορούσε.

Μετά από λίγο ο Αντώνης έκανε λίγο εμετό. Τον ρώτησα αν τον πείραξε η ζαμπονοτυρόπιτα και μου είπε ότι ήταν μάλλον από την πρέζα.
Η καθαρίστρια μου έκανε νόημα ότι δεν μπορεί να καθαρίσει και τον εμετό. Τελικά με προτροπή των αστυνομικών και με κάποιες εφημερίδες που πέταξε πάνω στον εμετό, μια σκούπα κι ένα μεγάλο φαράσι τον καθάρισε κάπως.

Εντωμεταξύ ήρθε κι ένας νοσηλευτής σε μηχανή όσο περιμέναμε το ασθενοφόρο. Έβγαλε το ματωμένο παπούτσι του Αντώνη και προσπάθησε να καταλάβει τι είχε συμβεί. Του μιλούσε με οικειότητα και εξέτασε την πληγή.
-Καταλαβαίνεις ότι αυτό δεν είναι ούτε μιας μέρας ούτε πέντε; Πρέπει να πάμε στο νοσοκομείο, του είπε.
-Δε θέλω! έλεγε και ξαναέλεγε ο Αντώνης.
-Για να στο πώ ωμά, αν δεν στο φτιάξουμε θα σου κόψουν το πόδι!
Εκεί ο Αντώνης τρόμαξε λίγο. Ο νοσηλευτής το κατάλαβε και του είπε πιο μαλακά:
-Ρε Αντώνη, αφού ξέρεις ότι το αίμα σου έχει πρόβλημα, τι σου φταίνε οι άλλοι; Πάμε στο νοσοκομείο.
Ο Αντώνης ψέλλισε κάτι και φάνηκε ότι ένιωσε άσχημα.

Μετά μας εξηγούσε ότι ήθελε να πάει στο Αττικό γιατί εκεί τον ξέρει ο διευθυντής και τον βοηθάνε. Όταν του είπαν ότι θα τον πάνε στο ΚΑΤ αντέδρασε, γιατί δεν ήξερε πώς θα γυρίσει στο παγκάκι που κοιμάται συνήθως. Έλεγε και ξαναέλεγε ότι θα πάει στο Αττικό αύριο.
-Είναι χασάπηδες στο ΚΑΤ! μας έλεγε.
Ο Σίφης τον διαβεβαίωσε πως θα είναι μια χαρά κι ότι τους ξέρει επειδή δουλεύει εκει. Μετά του έκανε πλάκα ότι έχει και ωραίες γυναίκες εκεί και γελούσαν.

Ο Αντώνης μας έλεγε ότι δε θέλει να πετάξουμε το παπούτσι του γιατί δεν έχει άλλο. Όσο του το έβγαζε ο νοσηλευτής ούρλιαζε από τον πόνο. Ένας από τους αστυνομικούς τον άφησε να σφίγγει το χέρι του όσο πονούσε. Ένας άλλος του έλεγε να κάνει λίγο υπομονή κι ότι καταλαβαίνουν ότι πονάει.Ήταν και οι μόνοι που έδειξαν μία κάποια ευαισθησία απέναντί του από τους αστυνομικούς. Ο νοσηλευτής έβαλε το παπούτσι σε μία σακούλα και του το έδωσε.

Στις 3μμ περίπου εδέησε να εμφανιστεί το ασθενοφόρο. Οι τραυματιοφορείς ήταν πολύ ευγενικοί και με κατανόηση. Τον έβαλαν πάνω σε ένα φορείο μαζί με τα πράγματά του και μας ρώτησαν αν θα πάμε μαζί.

-Είναι απλοί περαστικοί, είπε ο νοσηλευτής.
Κοιταχτήκαμε με το Σίφη. Ένιωσα ένα σφίξιμο.

Ο Αντώνης μας ευχαρίστησε και τον χαιρετούσαμε όπως απομακρυνόταν πάνω στο φορείο.

Περιμέναμε να φύγει το ασθενοφόρο. Χαιρετήσαμε και το νοσηλευτή ο οποίος έφυγε με το μηχανάκι του.

Μιλήσαμε για 4-5 λεπτά για τον Αντώνη, την εμπειρία που ζήσαμε μαζί του, και πόση λύπη νιώσαμε γι'αυτήν την ψυχή και το αβέβαιο μέλλον της. Μετά χαιρετηθήκαμε και ο κάθε ένας πήρε το δρόμο του.

Το σημείο στο οποίο καθόταν ο Αντώνης δεν είχε σχεδόν κανένα απομεινάρι της ιστορίας του.
Οι περαστικοί πατούσαν πάνω του χωρίς να ξέρουν ότι πριν λίγα λεπτά εκεί υπέφερε ένας άνθρωπος.

... Και η ζωή συνεχίστηκε ...

Older Men

I am 29 years old.

During this time I have more than often observed (or been the recipient of) older men either discretiding, disrespecting or feeling entitled over -mostly younger- women.

Older men many times feel the urge to instruct women on how to do things they already know how to do, or feel entitled to explain things about women issues to us, as if they -who have never been women- know better. There is actually a term describing this behaviour: mansplaining.

Other times, older men feel that they deserve more space, physically and verbally. They feel that they matter more and they make a point of showing it to us through their behaviour.
I cannot tell you how many times older men have ignored me in conversations, how many times they have tried to erase my presence or how many times they have shown discomfort, or even anger, for the fact that I might take more physical space than them.
I cannot tell you how many times they have demanded I remain silent, and have gotten infuriated when I didn't; especially when I voiced a different opinion to theirs. And those times when my argument was stronger, they lost their shit. They tried to crush me similarly to how you try to squish a mosquito who just bit you. Like an annoying (yet not dangerously serious) threat. However, when they saw I was more persistent and withstanding than a mosquito, they expressed rage.

I'd dare say it's as if they believe the world belongs to them, and we should all obey their biddings and agree with their opinions (even when they're extremely hurtful and harmful towards us).

I -unfortunately- cannot tell you how many times I had been catcalled by middle aged men as a teenager. I do not think I can describe the horror and disgust I felt when men my dad's age -and older- made it clear that they lusted after me, a child. But they felt entitled to it. They somehow, for some unthinkable reason, decided it was OK to show sexual attraction towards an underage girl who could have been their own daughter. As if I was theirs to take; as if I wasn't my own person.
Weirdly enough, the older I got, the less harassment I received from men over 40. I guess I turned too old -or too independent- for them.

In the past few years I became even more outspoken, and I completely dispelled the 'older man myth.' In other words, the notion that I should succumb to the logic that older men are on the top of the human pyramid. Because even if they are -and sadly they have placed themselves there- I will not accept that and, I will not bow down to anyone. I am an independent entity who supports equality. Screw pyramids, we need more circles.

Interestingly enough, the more apparent my 'I won't respect you if you disrespect me merely due to you being an older man' behaviour became, the more vicious and aggressive older men were towards me.

And you know what? I don't give a fuck.
I am not afraid to be myself, I am not afraid to stand my ground, I am not afraid to oppose you when you're wrong.
And if you don't like that, older man well, you can do one.

By Charles Baudelaire

"Aux objets répugnants nous trouvons des appas"

(In repulsive objects we find enticing lures)

- Au Lecteur, Fleurs Du Mal

(To the Reader, The Flowers of Evil)

Περιμένοντας το νυχτερινό τρόλεϊ στο Σύνταγμα

Το Σύνταγμα μετά τα μεσάνυχτα μεταλλάσσεται σε μία εναλλακτική καρικατούρα της πραγματικότητας.

Βλέπεις από μεσήλικες πλανόδιους μουσικούς με ροζ τούφες και σκουλαρίκια, μέχρι τρελλούς που επιτίθενται κατά συρροή σε ταρίφες ή συνδιαλέγονται με το κενό, στυλάτους άστεγους, και μέσα σ'όλα αυτά τουρίστες που δεν έχουν ιδέα τι γίνεται γύρω τους.
Κι έτσι όπως παρατηρείς το αλλόκοτο σκηνικό που ξετυλίγεται γύρω σου, κάνεις φιλίες και χαβαλέ με άλλους παρατηρητές της νύχτας.

υγ. Ποιητική αηδία.

Απαγορεύονται τα ταττουάζ στον 'οίκο' του θεού

Τρου στόρι:

Εκεί που περιμένω να μπω στην εκκλησία για το μνημόσυνο της γιαγιάς μου, με πιάνει μία άγνωστη γιαγιά από το χέρι.
-Αυτό το απαγορεύει η θρησκεία μας, λέει δείχνοντας το μανίκι ταττού μου.
-Η θρησκεία σας μπορεί να το απαγορεύει.
-Το απαγορεύει η θρησκεία μας!
-Η δική σας μπορεί να το απαγορεύει.
-Μα είσαι στην εκκλησία, άρα τι λες;
-Δεν έχω έρθει στη λειτουργία, στο μνημόσυνο της γιαγιάς μου ήρθα.
-Το είπα επειδή η θρησκεία μας το απαγορεύει και το είδα. Ο Χρηστός...
(εκεί σταμάτησα να παρακολουθώ)
-Το θεωρώ μεγάλη αγένεια να πιάνετε μία άγνωστη και να της λέτε κάτι τέτοιο. Εγώ ποτέ δε θα το έκανα αυτό. Δεν είναι σωστό.
-Ξέρεις, και μένα έχει τέτοιο η εγγόνα μου.
(μένω μαλάκας)
-Εχμ, τι να πω. Νά'στε καλά...
-Κι εσύ παιδάκι μου.

...

Random Thoughts LXXIV

Why are we so desperately and hopelessly attracted to dark personalities and emotionally damaged people?
Why do we find someone's inner perversions, and darkness so charming?

Εξωφρενικό γεγονός με ασυνείδητο ιδιοκτήτη σκύλου

Πριν κάποιες μέρες, όπως οδηγούσε η μητέρα μου κοντά στην Αγία Βαρβάρα βλέπει έναν τύπο με ένα λύκο. Τον πήγαινε βόλτα και είχε ένα από αυτά τα λουριά που μπορείς να τα μακρύνεις με το πάτημα ενός κουμπιού. Ο τυπάς δεν κοίταγε καν τι έκανε το σκυλί και του είχε μακρύνει υπερβολικά το λουρί.

Η μητέρα μου παρατήρησε ότι κοντά τους, σε ένα παρκαρισμένο αυτοκίνητο υπήρχε μία γάτα από κάτω.

Ο σκύλος όρμησε στη γάτα και τη βούτηξε από το πόδι.
Η μητέρα μου σταμάτησε το αυτοκίνητο και πήγε να βοηθήσει το γατί.
Ο ιδιοκτήτης του σκύλου δεν προσπάθησε καν να τον τραβήξει, σε σημείο που ο σκύλος είχε πιάσει το γατί με τα δόντια και το κούναγε πέρα δώθε.

Ευτυχώς επενέβη η μητέρα μου, η οποία έξαλλη απείλησε τον ιδιοκτήτη ο οποίος θυμήθηκε να κοντύνει το λουρί του σκύλου μετά από όλα αυτά.

Το γατί λογικά σώθηκε μιας και με το που το άφησε ο σκύλος έφυγε τρέχοντας.

Η μητέρα μου θυμωμένη φώναζε του τύπου και τον στόλισε κανονικά, υπενθυμίζοντάς του ότι όταν έχεις μεγάλο σκυλί, και ειδικά τόσο άγριο, δεν επιτρέπεται να το κυκλοφορείς χωρίς φίμωτρο.

Αυτός ψέλλισε κάτι κι έφυγε γρήγορα γιατί εντωμεταξύ είχε σηκωθεί όλη η γειτονιά στο πόδι από τις φωνές της μάνας μου κι έκραζε τον τύπο.

Και θα ήθελα να πω τα εξείς:
Αν θες να έχεις σκύλο, και μάλιστα μεγάλο, έχεις και κάποιες ευθύνες.
Πρώτον, να μην τον κάνεις δολοφόνο.
Δεύτερον, να μην τον κυκλοφορείς χωρίς φίμωτρο (ειδικά αν είναι άγριος).
Τρίτον, να έχεις το νου σου συνεχώς όταν τον βγάζεις βόλτα.

Το σκυλί είναι σαν παιδί. Και δεν υπερβάλλω καθόλου. Αν δεν μπορείς να είσαι σωστός γονιός στο σκύλο σου, μην πάρεις σκύλο.

Fear of Death

Fear of death is something that has been torturing me since a very young age. It has been paralysing at times. Avoidance and inaction feels like freezing time after all. Not doing, inertia, gives you the false impression that you managed to pause life itself. 
But you didn't. 

Sometimes you may even consider inertia as 'not living.' And if you're not living, how could you ever die?
The safety not acting brings is very comforting. You make no right, you make no wrong, and you also don't progress. Because progressing means death. Doing brings you a step closer to death. 

I have been avoiding dealing with death for a very long time. The first time I had to face death was when family pets died. The first couple of times I was too young to understand what death meant. Then, I realised death is loss. Death is not ever seeing someone or something again, never experiencing life with them again, never experiencing what you love about them again.

When I was ten, my mum's mother, my grandma, passed away. She was 96 and bed bound for the last eight years of her life. She died in her sleep, on an armchair in the living room, as I was playing with my toys in the same room. They told me she died in her own bedroom a few minutes later. I recently was told by a cousin that she actually died in front of me. I still cannot digest that. I have no recollection of it. At the time, I didn't really deal with her death. I wasn't even allowed at her funeral. It wasn't until years later that I actually managed to come to terms with her passing.

The following years I heard about a few of my parents' relatives and acquaintances passing away. Most of the time I didn't even know them in person, so even though I might have felt a bit shaken, I was able to move on without paying attention. The very few times someone I actually knew passed away I didn't really think about it. I was sad and even devastated when I heard about it, but the next day it was as if the bad news had disappeared from my thoughts. Even when I went to someone's funeral, I tried to treat it like a bad dream. It wasn't real to me. It wasn't that I didn't care about those people, it was that I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with loss. I didn't know how to mourn and move on. 

One day before I turned 21, our dog, Lulu, had to be put down. She had multiple types of cancer and she was suffering. She was 15 years old. I had to tell her goodbye, so I spent some time with her, telling her how much I loved her, how much she meant to me. We had her since I was six. I couldn't stop crying. After the vet put her down I didn't stop crying for a week. I couldn't eat, I couldn't speak. I was a mess. Up to this day I feel like she's going to come to the kitchen sometimes and give us her googly eyes to get food. 

I took an oath to never have a dog or any other pet after that. I didn't have the strength to live with their loss. 

In the past five years I keep on hearing about death. In my personal circles and in the world. Terrorism, mass murders, suicides, old age, diseases etc. And I block it. I desperately attempt to never think about it. Many times I fail though. And those times it's tremendously hard to get on with life. 

After the loss of a close family friend a few months ago, then my grandma’s and more recently a family member’s miscarriage I have been thinking about death constantly.

We recently visited our family friend's widow. She was a shadow of her once cheerful self. There was a sadness in her eyes, a surrender. She's 56 years old, relatively young. Still, you could tell she didn't know how to keep on living. She had been married to her husband since she was 17 years old. She only knew how to live as his wife. She had never experienced adult life without him. Luckily, she became grandmother a few months prior to her husband's passing. From our conversation I realised her grandchild is what is keeping her alive. The night after our visit I found it hard to sleep. I couldn't shake her image from my head. The way she sat, how many times she almost burst into tears...

On the 23rd of July my dad's mother, my other grandma, passed away at 102. She died in her sleep on her bed, surrounded by her children and children in law. I hadn't seen her much in the past ten years, only a couple of times a year -if so-, since I lived in England. The last 2 years she couldn't communicate and didn't know what was going on most of the time. The only time I cried was when during her funeral, one of the children she saved as a nurse spoke about her life. I still haven't mourned her loss. Maybe because I didn't spend as much time with her. The funeral was quite hard, especially since my aunt decided she wanted an open casket. She looked quite peaceful, as if she was asleep. However, when I touched her forehead to say goodbye, she was frozen. Then it hit me: That was her dead body. It was an empty vessel and my grandma wasn't in there anymore.

I haven't been able to sleep properly since her passing. My nightmares have gotten worse and my anxiety has hit the roof. I think with her death and what came after her death, I had to admit that life ends. I had to face that life is short and when the end comes, it's the end. 

Please don't respond with your religious beliefs about the afterlife; they're irrelevant to me. And unnecessary at this point. I personally believe death brings the end. You're gone. Nothingness.
And that will be forever hard to handle.

Two days ago I was informed that a relative of mine -who has been trying to get pregnant since April- had a miscarriage. It was very early stages of the pregnancy, but she was still broken. I didn't speak with her much as we're trying to give the couple privacy. Nevertheless, I could feel her pain for the loss of a future child. The loss of her hopes that she would be a mother. Her and her husband are mourning at the moment. 

It has been a very tough summer. The warmth of the weather collides with the deaths in my immediate circles, only highlighting the antithesis.
Quite mentally drained at the moment, I'm hopelessly searching for a healthy strategy on coming to terms with loss, with death.
I have a very long way to go, and I'm unsure I'll ever manage it. 

~

ps. In reading this, I hope you find comfort in the fact that you are not alone. We all come across death and loss in life. It's one of the few things that we all have in common, a few things that can unite us.
ps2. Part of a poem inspired by the events of this summer.

My grandma passed away

I just received a phone call that my grandma passed away.
She was 101 years old, but that doesn't make it any easier.
She was a truly spectacular woman.

A bit of her story:
When she was a child she wasn't allowed to go to school because it was unthinkable to send your daughter to school back then, unless you were rich.
She learned how to write and read by herself, and she sometimes stood outside her brother's classroom just to hear what the teachers had to say. The teachers suggested to her father that she should take her brother's place in the classroom.
When she was a teenager they sent her in Asia Minor to work for a rich family as a maid. There, she had access to a huge library and studied continuously.
Later on she was part of the resistance (EPON) and gave people flyers to inform them of the current situation and anti regime moves they could partake in (something that was punishable by death at the time).
Then, she became a volunteer nurse and treated those who were fighting for Greece's freedom. There she met my grandad who was in the resistance as well and had been tortured by Germans. They got married and had two children.
She was very strongly urging both my dad and his sister to go to school and learn. She considered education to be paramount. So she worked two jobs to make sure they could finish school (as my grandad was a person with physical disabilities and a fisherman, so he didn't make much). She saved numerous children as a nurse, since she didn't ask for money to do their shots.
When her daughter had children my grandma raised them because she was married to someone who worked in the army and they had to move a lot.
She lived to see some of her grandchildren's children as well.
In her lifetime, she and my grandad made sure that they bought a house, so her children would be able to have a place to call home.
Up to when she was 80+ years old she would still take the bus to the city.
Unfortunately, later she became bed bound, and in the past few years she didn't remember much. But she was always surrounded by love from three generations.

This description doesn't even do her and her story justice, but I'm a tad too emotional to think and write properly.

Γιαγιά, καλό ταξίδι <3

"But you seem fine"

One of the most hurtful and insulting things I had ever heard was when people didn't believe I wasn't feeling well "because I didn't show it."
To assume that one will allow themselves to be vulnerable and "seem weak" in front of you is not only inconsiderate, but also ignorant.
Us who have been suffering for long know exactly how to hide our pain. And to doubt that pain merely because you can't see it is egotistical to say the least.

"Happiness is a choice" & what this may mean

1. Mental Health 

To all those saying that happiness is a choice:
Try living with mental illness for a day.

Even though I agree, it's tremendously important to make an effort to train/program your brain to think positive, we need to remember not everyone has that privilege.
Because being mentally healthy is a privilege that 1 in 4 people (if not more) do not possess.

When you're suffering from mental health, you struggle to do basic things -like surviving. You do not have the capacity to be positive and see the glass half full. You try to avoid getting crushed by your demons and that more than often leaves you no strength or time to do anything else.

I have discussed this before, but it bares repeating: Happiness isn't always a choice.
Sure, if you spill your coffee on the floor and you cry and have a melt down about it for the next year, you're choosing to be unhappy about it. However, not everything is that simple.

Human psych along with how it affects our brain are extremely perplexed issues. For a person who suffers from clinical depression failing at something could have a lasting impact on their mental state. For a person who suffers from PTSD seeing or hearing certain things can trigger horrific memories and bring back trauma. For a person who suffers from anxiety disorder even small tasks can turn into a stressful and overwhelming nightmare. E.t.c.

There is a plethora of mental disorders and they affect people differently. The common denominator being they do affect people, their thoughts, perceptions, actions and reactions. So to imply every human can choose happiness is to imply every human can choose to gain control over their mental illness. And that isn't only impossible, but also harmful, and thus, perpetuating the notion that people who suffer from mental health are mere drama queens.

If it was so easy to gain control over your mental health, less people would suffer/commit suicide/self-harm/take medication/self-medicate and psychotherapists and psychiatrists would be out of business. No one chooses to suffer from mental health. And those who do suffer from mental disorders do not choose to be unhappy. They do not have the option to feel happy at that particular moment.

I believe we have had enough with this force fed positivity. Not all of us can be (or want to be) positive all the time. Hell, it's illogical to be positive and happy all the time. For instance, if you lose a loved one, aren't you going to grieve? Are you going to be happy instead? Of course not.

2. Discomfort & Solidarity

Despite the fact that I recognise good intensions from those who jumped on the "be happy" wagon, I also cannot help but wonder whether there is a slightly suspicious agenda behind it. You see, negative people, unhappy people make us uncomfortable. After all, it's not a pleasant sight to see someone sad, worried or stressed. Let alone experience someone having a panic attack or an episode. What do we do then? How do we handle the situation? Most people would rather run away than have to deal with such situations, either for fear of making it worse or due to them wanting to go on with their day. Similarly, even when we ask someone how they're doing, we expect them to say "fine" or "well." If someone responds "Not well" we're taken aback.

Nevertheless, wouldn't we want someone to help us if we were the ones suffering? Aren't we alienating ourselves by denying others' help? Aren't we forgetting that to experience a quality life we need to show and receive solidarity? Isn't this "be happy" philosophy maybe forcing us to seclude ourselves, pretending to be well so to not be a discomfort, or pretending to not see those who are not well so to not disrupt our routine or trouble ourselves (or possibly because this way we can keep ignoring the monsters living under our bed)?

An acquaintance of mine who is a psychotherapist once said "We learn about ourselves through experiencing ourselves through others." But if we only interact with others on the grounds of positivity, aren't we denying ourselves the chance to discover more about other parts of ourselves? And if we always hide our vulnerability, sadness or negativity, aren't we denying ourselves the chance to discover how receiving compassion and understanding can positively affect us?

3. Security & Core Beliefs

A conversation with someone who isn't "happy" may challenge us into deep dialogues which in turn may shake our core beliefs. For example, if you believe that people only receive what they can survive or deserve, meeting a kind person who is dying of cancer may upset you and force you to reconsider. Being exposed to different experiences than ours, especially those that are unpleasant, hurtful and unhappy can open new doors of perception. 

However, not everyone is ready -and some will never be ready- to have their core beliefs challenged. Our core beliefs are notions and ideologies deeply rooted within us. Sometimes for no particular reason than our upbringing, religion, family tradition, culture etc. Yet, they are instilled in us and having to question them may shake the whole foundation of who we are. And that can be terrifying. 

Losing that security of knowing that "1+1=2" and suddenly, possibly being introduced to "1+1=5" bursts our security bubble. When that bubble is burst we are floating in the unknown. It makes sense trying to avoid anything that or anyone who can lead us there. Therefore, having the need to always be -or merely fake being- "happy" is predictable. 

I am in no way saying there is a conspiracy behind the "be happy" movement/ideology. I would be stupid not to look at this through a critical prism though. 

Food for thought.

Another day of fatshaming

So today I realised one of my contact had shares this video:

I was infuriated to say the least.
So the best way they could direct this was in fatphobic fashion that not only demonises being fat and is based on stereotypes but also reinforces fatshaming?
There are plenty of constructive ways to promote a healthy lifestyle and this isn't one of them.
This reminds me of the saying "if you don't wanna get STD's don't have sex."
Fear mongering. 
Utterly ridiculous and insulting.

"Πρέπει να γίνεις μάνα"

Με αφορμή το άρθρο που διάβασα στη LIFO:

Είναι λυπηρό, αλλά συνάμα σεξιστικό και μισογυνικό. Η γυναίκα αντιμετωπίζεται ως αναπαραγωγική μηχανή που είναι η μόνη υπεύθυνη για τη διαιώνιση του είδους. Η προσωπική της επιλογή και ευτυχία αγνοούνται. Κι αν τυχόν όταν καταφέρουν να τη χειραγωγήσουν δε μείνει αμέσως έγκυος, αρχίζει η ντόπα -γιατί όπως λένε οι πεθερές 'το αγοράκι μου δεν έχει πρόβλημα εμένα.' Έχω κι εγώ ακούσει διάφορα κι ας είμαι μόνο 29. Εδώ και χρόνια όταν αναφέρω ότι δε θέλω τα παιδιά και δε θα ήθελα να κάνω μου αρχίζουν όλ@ τα 'θα αλλάξεις γνώμη' και 'είσαι μικρή ακόμα.' Όταν όμως βλέπουν μικρά κοριτσάκια να λένε από τα 8 πόσα παιδιά θέλουν να κάνουν το θεωρούν φυσιολογικό. Λες και είναι λογικότατο ένα παιδάκι να σκέφτεται πότε θα κάνει παιδιά το ίδιο. Λες και είναι φυσιολογικός ο βομβαρδισμός και η πλύση εγκεφάλου των γυναικών και κοριτσιών για το ότι η αποστολή/υποχρέωσή τους είναι να κάνουν παιδιά με ό,ποιο κόστος. Το αν θα κάνεις παιδιά θα έπρεπε να είναι καθαρά δική σου επιλογή και επιθυμία και όχι απαίτηση της κοινωνίας/θρησκείας/συγγενών σου.

"You're not feminine"

Yesterday one of my driving theory classmates said I'm not feminine because I don't wear high heels and I don't speak a certain way. I got angry at him and told him I disagree. He insisted that I don't dress feminine and my mannerisms aren't feminine. Apparently to him, femininity is correlated to being a bimbo.

The notion that there is only one specific expression of femininity bothers me. Being feminine doesn't stem from your fashion choices. It is deeply rooted within you as a person, it's part of your character and personality (and of course it is irrelevant to your gender). Whether and how you choose to express it isn't a necessary indicator of it.

Can we all please stop being brainwashed by the media's (and social media's) projection of femininity and masculinity? Can we all please stop restricting ourselves when it comes to our feminine and/or masculine expression? Can we stop letting toxic and harmful generalisations and stereotypes define us? Lastly, can we stop judging others by our standards, and respect that every individual is different and has the right to be respected for the way they would like to be perceived?

"Ο καθένας κοιτάει την πάρτη του."

Αυτό είναι ένα από τα βασικά προβλήματα σε αυτήν τη χώρα.Ο εγωισμός και ο ατομικισμός που μας διέπουν, η μηδαμινή αλληλεγγύη...Εθελοτυφλούμε και αρνούμαστε την παραδοχή υπαιτιότητας σε κάποιες καταστάσεις.Δε γίνεται ενώ ποτέ δεν προσπαθούμε για κάτι καλύτερο -γενικότερα- κι εφόσον δε μας ενδιαφέρουν οι συνέπειες των πράξεών μας ως προς τα άλλα άτομα να λέμε ότι δε φέρουμε μερίδιο ευθύνης.Τα "γιατί να με νοιάζει τι θα αφήσω στις επόμενες γενιές" και τα "γιατί να σκεφτώ τους άλλους αφού ούτε εκείνοι το κάνουν" το μόνο που κάνουν είναι να ανακυκλώνουν βλαβερές συνέπειες -πολλές από τις οποίες επωμιζόμαστε εμείς σήμερα.Δε χρειάζεται ό,τι κάνουμε να είναι πάντα για το άμεσο καλό μας. Μπορεί να είναι και για το μελλοντικό καλό μας, αλλά και των άλλων ανθρώπων (όπως και των ζώων, και του πλανήτη μας).
☮️

Athens Pride 2018

Το Pride του Σαββάτου ήταν το 5ο Pride στο οποίο πήγα στην Αθήνα.
Το πρώτο ήταν το 2008!!!
Δέκα χρόνια μετά λοιπόν βλέπω με μεγάλη μου χαρά συμμετοχή και από σημαντικούς φορείς, κυβερνητικούς εκπροσώπους, συλλόγους γονέων και κηδεμόνων, και όπως πάντα ενημερωτικά περίπτερα σε σχέση με την υγεία, την παιδεία κλπ.
Εννοείται μεταξύ άλλων υπήρχαν τα κλασσικά περίπτερα με merchandise, μικρών queer ομάδων, πολιτικών παρατάξεων, της colour youth, και των Άθεων Ελλάδος.
Μου έκανε εντύπωση το περίπτερο των αστυνομικών. Έπιασα και την κουβέντα με έναν επειδή ήταν φίλος ενός γνωστού μου και εξεπλάγειν με την προθυμία του και τις απόψεις του. Βέβαια, δεν παρέλειψε να αναφέρει ότι οι υποστηρικτές λοατκι+ μέσα στο σώμα χωρίζονται σε νεοφιλελεύθερους και αριστερούς, κι ότι εκείνος δεν ήταν αριστερός.
Νομίζω πάντως πως ο χώρος της πλατείας Συντάγματος δεν έχει τη δομή της πλατείας Κλαυθμώνος. Η πλατεία Κλαυθμώνος επέτρεπε καλύτερη κατανομή των περιπτέρων και ευκολότερη πρόσβαση στη μουσική σκηνή. Αν και καταλαβαίνω τη συμβολική αξία του να λαμβάνει χώρα το φεστιβάλ μπροστά από τη Βουλή, ήταν σα να λείπει κάτι... Και η παρέλαση έκανε μικρότερο κύκλο από παλαιότερα.
Μπορώ να πω πως είχε αρκετό κόσμο, αλλά έχω δει και περισσότερο.
Όσον αφορά τη μουσική σκηνή, πριν τελειώσει η παρέλαση ήταν ό,τι νά'ναι, με συνδυασμούς παραδοσιακής και οριεντάλ μουσικής με dubstep. Φαντάζομαι μετά την παρέλαση που θα είχαν μαζευτεί όλ@ στην πλατεία θα ήταν καλύτερες οι μουσικές επιλογές.
Δεν ακολούθησα την παρέλαση από την αρχή, παρά πήγα προς το τέλος. Είχε κάποια οχήματα με μουσική, performers και άτομα που χόρευαν, αλλά ομολογουμένως δεν ήταν τόσο φαντασμαγορικά όσο το 2008 ή 2009 για παράδειγμα. Έλειπε το glitter και η υπερβολή των προηγούμενων χρόνων.
Είδαμε και όχημα στα χρώματα του ουράνιου τόξου από την Taxi Beat και τυμπανιστές και ομάδα από τη Vodafone GR. Είχε και κάποιες άλλες ομάδες που έπαιζαν μουσική. Στα περίπτερα έδιναν βεντάλιες ουράνιο τόξο με το λογότυπο της Στέγης Ωνάση, η οποία ήταν και χορηγός του φεστιβάλ.
Γενικότερα, κρίνοντας από τον τίτλο του περσινού φεστιβάν ("Θέμα Παιδείας") αλλά και του φετινού ("Παρούσα") βλέπουμε μία τάση προς την ενημέρωση και την αναφορά σε πολιτικοκοινωνικά ζητήματα (πχ. η ελλιπής παιδεία σε σχέση με τη διαφορετικότητα καταλήγει σε διακρίσεις και ο σεξισμός και μισογυνισμός στοχοποιούν τη γυναίκα αλλά και ό,τι αυτή συμβολίζει τιμωρώντας τη θηλυκότητα).
Ίσως αυτό σημαίνει ότι σιγά σιγά το φεστιβάλ θα είναι λιγότερο πάρτυ και περισσότερο ενημέρωση και διαμαρτυρία.
Θα δείξει.
Αυτό που θα μου μείνει είναι η σημαία πάνω στη Βουλή και το πόσο διαφορετικά ήταν τα άτομα που συμμετείχαν και φέτος. Από γονείς με παιδιά, μέχρι drag queens, εφηβ@ς που τώρα άρχισαν να ανακαλύπτουν τη σεξουαλικότητά τους, λοατκι+ άνω των 60, λοατκι+ αμεα, straight allies κλπ.
Και του χρόνου!

Untitled

We have been conditioned to feel ashamed for not looking 'perfect,' even though 'looking perfect' holds an utterly subjective meaning.

Social Media

A reminder that the majority of what you see on social media isn't true or a representation of reality.
Most people choose to show their best moments, the cool pictures, the travels, the expensive meals...
It's all calculated and more than often staged. 
Which is understandable, as society and the media have conditioned us to believe we need to seem 'perfect' and hide anything 'ugly' under the rag. If you do otherwise you're judged, severely and viciously.
So, to anyone who sees those posts, images, stories -that have all been polished and edited to fit the notion of a 'perfect life'- and feels miserable, depressed or less than:
You're enough. Your life and experiences are valid. You don't need to conform to a make-believe 'utopia' or restrict and reshape yourself to 'fit in'.
Be kind to yourself. Take your time.

Creepy incident vol. 244848220

I'm at the bus stop waiting for the night bus.

This guy keeps looking my way.
I ignore him.
He doesn't seem like he wants to get on the bus.
Then, after 10 minutes he comes to wait at the bus stop.
I go stand away from him.
The bus arrives.
He purposely comes where I am so we get on the bus from the same door.
He stands next to me on the bus.
When I push the stop button and try to move towards the front of the bus he says in English that he's getting off as well.
We get off the bus.
At this point I'm well aware he got off because he's creepy/dangerous. So, I wait at the bus stop to see if he's going to go away.
After a few minutes he disappears and so I proceed to walk home.
However, he was hiding behind a wall and suddenly creeps from behind to comment on my tattoos.
I murmur something and try to walk away.
He walks faster and stops in front of me and asks me about my accent and where I'm from.
I say that I'm Greek and I try to move away.
At this point I'm not even trying to get home because I don't want him to know where I live.
He asks if I'm going home. I say I'm just walking around.
He persists on having conversation with me.
I say that I don't feel comfortable talking to strangers.
He looks weirded out. I say thank you and walk away.

Now, after I walked away I had to hide and wait to make sure he truly left.
Even after that I kept looking behind my shoulder to make sure he wasn't following me.

And that, my male friends, is why you should NEVER try to approach women at night. Because experience tells us that if you do that, chances are you're a rapist, a serial killer or a stalker.

Little Lizard

Less than a couple of hours ago I thought I had saved a little lizard from two stray cats. Its tail was cut off and it had a scratch on the side. I put it in a safe place in the garden, only to find out that ants were eating it an hour later. I was very shaken and sad by the fact that I couldn't save it, but even more so by the fact that it was suffering prior to its death. This is a poem I wrote for it:

"Poor little lizard, what an awful way to dieHe cut your tail and he scratched your side

I tried to save you; I failed, tell me why?
My heart is broken, distraught; I saw you die

I hoped you didn’t suffer; I want to say goodbye
Your last moments were painful; I wish it was a lie

I wish I’d been more helpful, I wish I’d saved your life
I’m now mourning your death, tears running from my eyes

I thought you would survive this, but then I saw the ants
Devouring your small body, approached you really fast

I’ll give you a proper burial, I know you had a soul
I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from this unfair downfall"

Rest in peace little lizard...

Loss of a family friend

Today I found out a family friend passed away yesterday.
I still don't know exactly how I feel, or how I will react tomorrow -at the funeral.

My parents came back home from their gardening session not looking as excited as they usually do. I asked them how did the gardening go, only to find out the news.

Mr. Yiannis was a remarkable man. He was born and raised in a small Greek village. He lost his dad when his was a baby, so his mother raised him by herself. He started working at the age of nine. He left the village to go to the city at the age of 11, apprenticing as a vehicle mechanic. Then, he decided to apprentice in merchant ships as a mechanic. So, at the tender age of 13 he boarded a ship. When he was 20 years old his mother died whilst he was in the army (joining the army is compulsory for men in Greece). He was completely alone.
Ten years later he married a lovely woman, they had a daughter together. One decade later he had to quit being a mechanic and return to land permanently due to severe health implications. His family was there for him, his friends were there for him. He was well loved. He was also very fond of cats. When he was apprenticing, he didn't have anywhere to sleep, so he slept on the shop's storage floor. There were a lot of stray cats in the neighbourhood and every winter they slept with him to keep him warm. They were his friends.
The past 28 years he has been suffering from many different health issues, but he always had a smile on his face. Kind, warm and welcoming. The past couple of years were very hard on him and his family. Surgeries, more surgeries, a lot of pain and recovery. Last September he became a granddad. I heard he was so happy. It is very unfortunate his grandchild will never get to really meet this amazing human being.
I hadn't seen him for a few years myself. I deeply regret it now.

But that's the thing with death. You never know when and who it will strike.

Rest in Peace κύριε Γιάννη.
Ήσασταν υπέροχος άνθρωπος.
🌸

A friend with multiple sclerosis

Today I found out that a family friend is in the hospital.
This person was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis when he was 20 years old. Now he's around 50.
He started walking with a cane first, then he couldn't walk at all, and this past year he lost his ability to use his hands.
Now he can only move his head.

I'm very shaken by these news.

What infuriates me is that the doctors at Evaggelismos Hospital -which is a public hospital- demanded money to operate on him and treat him (which is illegal and is called 'fakelaki') and that the secretary in charge of appointments delayed his treatment for a year because she wanted money as well (illegal too).

It's beyond unfair how capitalism has turned our society into a money obsessed monster, how even one of the noblest professions has long lost its true meaning.

People who work in Health are supposed to be caring, to be willing and happy to save lives. They're supposed to comfort the ill, to show them hope. I'm not saying they should do it for free, but money should never be the main drive behind choosing a profession that has helping people at its core.

Αυτοκινητιστικό στο Παγκράτι

Έχει ακούσει κάποι@ τι έγινε με το αυτοκινητιστικό στο Παγκράτι;

Χθες είδα με τα μάτια μου έναν οδηγό μηχανής στο κράσπεδο της Φιλολάου, και μια γυναίκα, συνοδηγό, εγκλωβισμένη στο αυτοκίνητο με αίματα και γυαλιά.

Έφυγα όταν ήρθε το ασθενοφόρο γιατί βιαζόμουνα και δεν ξέρω τι έγινε μετά.

Για όσ@ς δε γνωρίζουνε το περιστατικό:
Εχθές κατά τις 7.30μμ περνούσα με αυτοκίνητο από Φιλολάου. Είδαμε ότι ήταν ένας άνθρωπος στο κράσπεδο, και ότι είχε γίνει ατύχημα. Η μηχανή του διαλυμένη στη μέση του δρόμου.
Κάποιοι μετακινούσαν τον άνθρωπο κι επειδή η μητέρα μου γνωρίζει πρώτες βοήθειες και ξέρει ότι απαγορεύεται να μετακινήσεις άνθρωπο που έχει χτυπήσει, πήγαμε να βοηθήσουμε. Κάποι@ λέγανε ότι ο οδηγός δε φόραγε κράνος. Κάποι@ λέγανε ότι φόραγε και του το βγάλανε.
Μία κυρία που δουλεύει σε ένα από τα μαγαζιά επί της Φιλολάου και είδε το ατύχημα όταν συνέβη, μου είπε τα εξείς:
"Το μηχανάκι έτρεχε, έτρεχε πολύ. Αλλά το αυτοκίνητο πετάχτηκε ξαφνικά από τον παράδρομο. Το αυτοκίνητο έφταιγε, η μηχανή ήταν σε κεντρικό, έχει προτεραιότητα."
Από ό,τι είδα ο οδηγός του αυτοκινήτου ήταν μια χαρά. Η συνοδηγός (μάλλον μητέρα του), είχε χτυπήσει το κεφάλι της στο τζάμι, το οποίο είχε σπάσει, κι είχε γυαλιά και αίματα στο πρόσωπο. Η πόρτα είχε μπει μέσα κι είχε εγκλωβιστεί. Ο οδηγός βρισκόταν σε σοκ και απλα περπατούσε πέρα δώθε ή στεκόταν.
Ευτυχώς στην περιοχή βρέθηκε ο αδερφός του οδηγού της μηχανής, οπότε και πήγε μαζί του στο νοσοκομείο.
Πριν τον πάρει το ασθενοφόρο δε σταματούσε να κινείται, έλεγε ότι κρυώνει και γενικά βρισκόταν σε άσχημη ψυχολογική κατάσταση. Η μητέρα μου του σκούπιζε τα αίματα που τρέχανε στο αυτί του γιατί προσπαθούσε να κουνηθεί για να τα σκουπίσει.
Είχε μαζευτεί αρκετός κόσμος, κάποι@ προσπαθούσαν να βοηθήσουν, κάποι@ άλλ@ να σταματήσουν την κυκλοφορία, και κάποι@ απλά να δουν το συνέβη.
Αυτό που μου έκανε εντύπωση ήταν η αναισθησία κάποιων οδηγών που ενώ είδαν τι είχε συμβεί συνεχισαν να οδηγούν επί της Φιλολάου, με κίνδυνο να χτυπήσουν τον οδηγό κι όσ@ς προσπαθούσαν να τον βοηθήσουν, και φυσικά καταστρέφοντας πιθανά στοιχεία που υπήρχαν στο χώρο που έγινε το ατύχημα.
Πριν φύγω είδα 2 ασθενοφόρα και την αστυνομία στο χώρο, και αργότερα που ήμουν ακόμη πιο κάτω στην περιοχή είδα και πυροσβεστικά που μάλλον πήγαιναν προς τα εκεί για να απεγκλωβίσουν τη συνοδηγό.

Equality

Equality means equality.

As a feminist, I don't want society to be a pyramid.

Everyone should be given equal opportunities, everyone should have free access to healthcare and all levels of education, and everyone should feel free to be of any faith, or no faith.
Everyone should be respected and respectful by default.

Race, ethnicity, ability, disability, mental health, gender, biological sex, sexual orientation, appearance, age, religion (or lack of) should all be irrelevant.

Random Thoughts LXXIII

It's tragic to realise that life's so shit everyone is trapped in escapism.
No one seems to be happy with the way life is, unless they use something to take their minds off of it. 

Transphobic Behaviour CBB

So, for anyone who doesn't know, there is a trans woman on the latest season of Celebrity Big Brother. And there are a lot of transphobic reactions against her on social media.

Left: India, Right: Ginuwine (all pictures belong to Celebrity Big Brother)

My understanding is that she was having a conversation with another CBB housemate, Ginuwine, where he admitted he isn't attracted to trans women.
She asked him if he'd be attracted to her if she wasn't trans, and he said maybe he would be.
India asked him to kiss her several times during that conversation, and even tried to force him to kiss her.

Now, the situation online is the following:
Many people are defending Ginuwine, saying he was sexually abused (!) by India. Many people are defending India, saying Ginuwine made transphobic remarks.

I believe the main issue here is that India is an extremely disliked character in the house, and people confuse their feelings towards her with having the right to misgendering her, or make transphobic remarks against her.
In the house alone, three or four people have misgendered her, and one of them, Ann, did it four times, one of them at least on purpose.

India is very outspoken, complains often, and is probably going through some personal issues which she projects on her housemates. She seems insecure and trying to navigate life as a trans woman.

The audience seems to be unable to separate their personal feelings towards her and her behaviour from the basic respect we owe to others. E.g. never misgendering them, never displaying lgbt+phobic behaviour, etc.

India exploded one night, after having tolerated too much from her housemates, feeling the others disrespected her because she is trans. She felt they didn't recognise her as a woman.

I am not trans, therefore I will do my best to explain a few things, using my knowledge as an ally, but I urge you to look for trans folks who spoke on the matter, as their input is more valuable than mine.

I personally defended India on twitter, and that resulted in me being bombarded with transphobia, trolling and hate. People calling me "crazy," "mentally unstable," "ignorant," urging me to study biology, threatening me, calling me names and generally being horrible.
I was so upset I was trembling. I cannot begin to fathom what India, and other trans people, must be feeling, seeing how the audience responded to her.

Now, what a lot of people are not getting is that your biological sex and your gender are two different things. Courtney Act kindly explained it on last night's episode.
Your biological sex is the genitalia you were born with. Your gender is your gender identity, how you feel. Your biological sex and your gender don't always agree. And that is when you are trans, genderqueer, agender, gender fluid etc.

Therefore, India may have been born with male genitalia, but that doesn't mean she ever was a man. She has always been a woman. Her gender identity is valid and should ALWAYS BE RESPECTED, whether you like her or not.
She would still be a woman even if she didn't undergo gender reassignment surgery.
You don't have to have any surgery for your gender identity to be valid. Your gender identity is valid by default. Moreover, your genitalia are no one's business, and no one should ever ask trans persons about that, unless they have established with them that it's ok.

A lot, and I mean a lot, of people who tweeted me, claimed Ginuwine isn't transphobic and it's his right to not want to be with trans women.

On one hand I do agree, no one should ever be forced to be with someone they don't want to be with. On the other hand though, he did display discriminatory behaviour. Because he said he might have been attracted to India if she wasn't trans; even though she'd be the exact same person.

I understand that when someone is straight, they are only attracted to women. I also understand that someone may only want to have sex with people with female genitalia.
But the thing is, India is a woman, and, she also has female genitalia.
Thus, if Ginuwine is only attracted to women, and to female genitalia, India being trans shouldn't be an issue.
Of course, Ginuwine has every right to not find her attractive as a person, or appearance wise. He doesn't have to be attracted to her. No question about that.
Nevertheless, his reasoning was discriminatory, and can be perceived as transphobic. If he had worded this differently, I doubt there would have been such backlash to his comments.

It goes without saying that India was wrong to try and force him for a kiss. And she has received tremendous backlash, especially from people who thought Ginuwine's critics were being racist, because he is a black man. A lot of people pointed out that if he tried to force a kiss to a white woman in the house, he'd have been called a molester.

And I cannot argue with that. Racism exists and it hurts all POC every day. And if Ginuwine had tried to force a kiss to a woman in the house, he'd be crucified. Not just for being a man, but also for being a black man.

Nonetheless, that doesn't excuse the audience misgendering India and/or displaying overall transphobic behaviour.

Ginuwine was wrong, and India was wrong.
Two wrongs will never make a right.

I prompt everyone to take this opportunity and educate themselves on trans issues, and not use India's trans identity as a weapon against her.
Furthermore, I suggest everyone to take this opportunity to educate themselves on racism, and not use Ginuwine's race as a weapon against him.

Let's start this year by being sympathetic, understanding, genuine (no pun intended) and kind. Let's all make an effort to educate ourselves on minority and marginalised communities' issues.
Let's be better people.

Peace and Love,
Lara

Random Thoughts LXXII

It’s not a coincidence how many movements and ideologies that benefit humanity (feminism, veganism, ethical consumerism, body positivity etc.) are presented as one-dimensional and catholic. Nor is it a coincidence how activists of any kind are generalised, presented through exaggerated caricatures.

It’s because positive change is feared -and more than often doesn’t benefit the ones in power- and thus, mocked or presented through a prism of malicious intentions.

Diarrhoea

My first poem for 2018! (can't we all relate after we ate like elephants during the holiday season?)

Diarrhoea diarrhoea
My anus fears ya
My anus fears ya
Damned to meet you
Got to greet you?
Don't wanna feel you
Gotta escape you

Diarrhoea diarrhoea
I cannot take you
I hate you, I hate you
Intestines protesting
Bowel movement protecting
Sphincter exhaustion
Shitty explosion