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.
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