Random Thoughts LXXX

Isn’t it fucked up that the world we live in is so shitty, we constantly seek forms of escapism?
Be it food, drugs, shopping, gambling, adrenaline rushes or anything else, many are in a constant search for distractions from the life they live.

International Women's Day

(Image Source: https://www.staffnet.manchester.ac.uk/news/display/?id=29403)

Today is International Women's Day.

I won't be wishing us Happy International Women's Day, though. I'll say stop discriminating against us, disrespecting/shaming/raping/murdering/abusing us, instead.

Oh, and a kind reminder that trans women are women.

Now that I got this out of the way, I want to talk about a specific quote I see people share every year on this day: "Here's to strong women. May we know them. May we be with them. May we raise them."

 
I find this quote highly problematic for the following reasons:

-Women shouldn't have to be 'strong' to be appreciated and celebrated. The notion that we always have to be strong, to persevere and rise above puts us on the pedestal, which then 'justifies' unrealistic and unfair expectations of us. We're not superheroes, we're human beings. The expectation of 'strength' also makes it harder for us to feel comfortable asking for help when we need it, resulting in us suffering in silence or alone, which of course works in patriarchy's favour. Because, as long as we keep our pain and suffering to ourselves, we don't 'disrupt' and we're isolated, the patriarchy can keep doing its job of oppressing and controlling women. And lastly, what has 'strength' or being 'strong' been associated with in our society - typically? Masculinity and men. Being vulnerable is mostly - typically - associated with femininity and women. I'm not going to analyse why these stereotypes are bullshit; but, I do want to ask this question: why is it that even on a day dedicated to women, we're expected to act like men to be respected and celebrated? 

-All women and femmes should be celebrated on this day, regardless of their perceived 'strength' or lack of. Excluding a group of women/femmes from their own day is, well... Kind of anti-women.

I understand that many people sharing the quote do it with good intentions, and I appreciate those intentions. However, I'd like to invite you to consider the deeper meaning of what you share and its wider implications.

A plant named 'Vagina'

Since I'm ill, and can't do fuck all atm, I decided to tell you a story about one of two times I tried to be a plant parent.

Back in 2021 or so, a friend had gifted me a pot of a very beautiful pink flower. Don't ask me its name, I know nothing about most plants, unless they can be smoked. lol. Anyhow, my friend was all excited to urge me to become a plant parent. I, on the other hand, wasn't excited. I was horrified. In the past, I managed to kill a cactus; I knew this poor flowery creature stood no chance.

I thought I had to name it (because I have a tendency to name things) in a way that would motivate me to take care of it. Hence, I named her 'Vagina.'

Now, my Vagina started all pink and pretty, and I did remember to water her from time to time. I even talked to her and petted her. I have a slight suspicion all the other housemates watered her, too, when they shouldn't have. Her beautiful pink petals gradually fell, and she looked like a spooky tree from a horror movie.

As you can guess, I was concerned. Very concerned. I didn't want my Vagina to perish. I read a few articles and consulted a couple of green-fingered people on how to save her. I was told I had to remove her from her pot and check if there was any mold on the roots. I was also advised to cut the dry branches off. I did both. My Vagina looked sadder and drier than ever.

As time went by, there was no improvement of her state. My Vagina wasn't going to survive. Her roots seemed fine to me, however, her body was the shadow of its old self. I pondered upon what to do, and finally, decided it was time to bid my Vagina farewell. I took her out of her pot and buried her in another pot, one of a large plant in the garden. My reasoning was that since she was dead/dying anyway, she could at least become one with the earth and benefit another plant.

And thus, my Vagina was gone forever.

Random Thoughts LXXIX

 Being apolitical is one of the greatest indications of privilege and indifference.

Random Thoughts LXXVIII

Self-love is not linear; things may happen to us which can make it tremendously challenging to practice it.
In those times, self-preservation is enough and it is valid.
Take care x

Random Thoughts LXXVII

When you share with people, be mindful they will project their own issues, ideologies and traumas on you.
This is worth considering before you choose whom to trust your personal information with.

The Goldie Weekender Part 1 @ Fabric - A review of the overall experience

Final Thoughts, TLTR in the end.

The Queue/Security/Staff: 

My friend had bought a Priority Ticket, the type you buy when you don't want to queue. You had to be there before 1am to get in. He still had to queue with me for 1 hour. When we asked a staff member about it she told us it doesn't matter. Different ticket providers give different options, but in the end it doesn't mean anything. Is this Fabric's fault or Resident Advisor's (the ticket provider) fault? My friend was quite confused and upset, and rightfully so. A lot of people in the queue were pissed off, and I could hear them talk about it. If someone pays extra money to get in faster, having to wait for an hour isn't what they were expecting. Not to mention all the people jumping the queue due to bad monitoring. Sometimes security was extra vigilant and even harsh, and others, super distracted while they were telling people off, so opportunists would jump the queue.

I've been going to Fabric for over ten years now. As most of us who have been to Fabric know (because we have experienced it), their security is rude and at times can get borderline aggressive. I'm saying this as a person who has been going to Fabric sober for a very long time. This time, most staff members were polite, and pleasant, but there was also the usual touching you and pushing you (without your consent) and shouting in your face. All that before you even entered the club. Inside, they were mostly invisible, and I was surprised to see a staff member witnessing two people (man and woman) shouting to each other (they were having an argument) and not interfering. The staff member was sitting right next to them on the couch, but he did fuck all. I also witnessed a woman get harassed by a man in the loo and there were a couple staff members present in there, not sure if they realised what was going on, but they didn't do anything. 

The Music

Oh my fucking days! My brain got thoroughly and pleasantly penetrated by phenomenally good music! The sets were the following:

Room 1

METALHEADZ

Diverge 11 - 12 

Loxy & Ink & Medic MC 12 - 1

Paradox (Live) 1 - 2 

Dillinja B2B Bailey 2 - 3.30

Goldie & Medic MC 3.30 - 5

Nookie 5 - 6 

Room 2 

BASSIC10 -10 YEARS OF THE BASSIC

Naina 12 - 1

Ant TC1 B2B Zero T & MC Fokus 1 - 2

Goldie B2B Doc Scott & MC GQ 2 - 3 

Grooverider & MC Fokus 3 - 4 

SL8R & MC Fokus 4 - 5 

The sets I missed were the first two from Room 1, the first one from Room 2 and very unfortunately, I missed Grooverider & MC Fokus as well (which was a set I really wanted to catch), but I will explain why below. 

The whole night was fantastic and filled with quality drum and bass. For us jungle lovers, there was a lot of auditory teasing, in the nicest way possible. Big thumbs up to the lights people for adding majorly to the experience, and to the floor staff for being discreet while cleaning and not obstructing our dancing throughout the night. I noticed that most people also respected the no pictures/videos rule, which added to the experience. My highlights:

I am not sure I possess the vocabulary to describe the first 10-15 (?) minutes of Dillinja B2B Bailey's set and the feelings and sensations it evoked, not just for me, but for the whole room. The whole set was unreal, but the 'intro' specifically was otherworldly. From the first few seconds the atmosphere changed, the energy in the room was electrifying; we were all transported somewhere else: a musical garden of Eden. I couldn't leave the room. The set lasted for an hour and a half. During that time I went to Room 2 to check Goldie B2B Doc Scott & MC GQ's set for ten minutes maybe (because that was another set I didn't want to miss), used the loo once and got some water from the water bar (which is a great idea and more clubs/bars should adopt it). The rest of the time I was dancing in Room 1, because the set was that good. And that set was the talk of the night: in the smoking area, the loo, the chill area, everywhere. Dillinja outdid himself. I wanted to meet him and shake his hand to say "Thank you for the experience," but also, I didn't want to be a creep or cringy, so I said it internally. And the ending! When I heard those first notes from The Angels Fell, I lost my shit. A perfectly smooth ending to a marvelous set. Bravo!

On why I missed Grooverider & MC Fokus' set: A little after Dillinja B2B Bailey's set was finished, we decided to go to the smoking area for some fresh air. We didn't intend to stay there for too long, as I really wanted to catch at least part of Grooverider's set. Sadly, by the time we got there and then back, the set was over.

We heard a lot of 'Amen Breaks' last night, and each of them was welcomed and much needed by our raver souls. I'm glad I was wearing dancing shoes, because fucking hell! I could not stop dancing. Apart from the above-mentioned legendary set, there were a couple of very special moments I will cherish. The first, when Goldie spoke about music and the DNB community after his set in Room 1, and thanked us all for being part of that night. Then, when Nookie finished his set with Out of Space by the Prodigy. You could see why that tune was perfect to end the night. Both moments were magical and a reminder that music is truly a gift to be shared, an experience to connect us all. 

The Creeps

A lot of the staff were wearing t-shirts reading "Don't be a creep." Now, that is lovely and all, but a creep isn't going to be self-aware enough to realise they're being a creep. So, these t-shirts are more of a marketing move, than practically helpful. What would be useful would be posters around the club, at the bar and in the toilets explaining what consent is, and telling men to NOT touch women unless they have their informed, enthusiastic and ongoing consent. Or even better, having to fill a short questionnaire on consent whilst purchasing your ticket (whether online or at the door).

My experience with men's inappropriate behaviour at the venue on the night:

Me and my friend were in the smoking area when a guy approached us. He was friendly and started socialising with us. He indirectly asked if we were a couple, which I found a tad bizarre considering he had just started talking to us. Then, he stressed how he wouldn't go out with a female friend one on one. Red flag. He asked to join us inside and we said yes, as he kept complaining about his colleagues (whom he came with), how they were only talking about work, whereas he wanted to unwind. He kept on touching my shoulders and arms from the second we started heading inside. He didn't stop touching me until the moment he left. He did not ask for my consent not even once. When we were sat on a couch I made sure my friend was sat between us. He obviously didn't get the message that he was making me uncomfortable -or he didn't care. He had asked me to get me a drink a few times (and insisted). I explained I wanted to remain sober during the night, and I would only be drinking water. When we were on the dance floor, all I wanted to do was dance and enjoy my time and the experience. He would not leave me alone for a large part of the time he was with us; he would try to find an excuse to come close to me or talk to me, when he could clearly see I was there for the music and not to talk to a stranger who was there to pull. He kept coming behind me and awkwardly touching my shoulders or arms as part of some sort of 'dance move' which was just spoiling the moment for me. At some point he handed me his mobile phone device. I looked at him curiously. He expected me to give him my number. The only thing that could come out of my mouth was 'Ahhh.' I sincerely could not speak. He said it's okay if I didn't want to, but he kept holding the phone in front of my face. I tried to change the subject by asking if he was leaving. He kept on saying something, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I the end he said 'Maybe' (that he was leaving) and he gave me and my friend a hug and left. Unfortunately, we stumbled upon him later in the night, as he had gotten lost (or so he said) and couldn't find the exit. I pointed him towards the right way. I'm sure he could have asked a staff member...

After a while and towards the end of the night, while my friend was sitting a bit further back resting, a guy started talking to me. Not sure why men think we can have a conversation on the dance floor where there is loud music, or why they think it's okay to interrupt my dancing to introduce themselves. The entitlement! That guy grabbed my waist. I was extremely disturbed by it. And to make matters worse, at some point, he came from behind me grabbing my shoulders! I turned around and shouted "You scared the shit out of me!" And he smiled at me asking why. It's a good thing my friend came to the dancefloor after that (and I made a point of talking to him so that the creep could see I wasn't alone), because he started dancing with my friend, which gave me the opportunity to move into the crowd and get away from him. 

Before, I mentioned that I was witness to a woman getting harassed in the loo. I had actually seen that woman get harassed by that man even prior to that, but then, saw them again in the loo. That was before any of the two incidents with these two men had happened to me. I told the man harassing her to "Move along" and he kept insisting that he knows her. I told him I didn't care and he should go. I asked her if she minded that I was rude to him (since he said he knew her) and she said she didn't mind at all. She actually thanked me and felt so relieved that she gave me a hug for telling him off, because he wouldn't had left her alone had I not told him to. 

Final Thoughts/TLTR

This was one of the best drum'n'bass nights of my life music wise. Stellar quality of sets. The whole atmosphere and vibe was impeccable, from the lights to the crowd to the djs and mcs pouring their soul into the sound. Auditory orgasm doesn't even begin to describe it. 

The venue could do better in terms of queue management, and handling creepy men. The water bar is an excellent idea, and so is the wifi (nevertheless, it wasn't working). 

My personal experiences with men's inappropriate behaviour during the night spoiled a bit of the experience. 

To sum up, I had an epic time, but I still had a nightmare about these men touching me when I went to bed after I got home. 

Edit: Forgot to mention if you bought a ticket for Friday, you got free access on Saturday, too. Which is awesome of course (bare in mind, Saturday isn't DNB). Thank you, Goldie!

My hair. –Allow me to be sad–

 Today, something I dreaded happened. I had to have my hair cut short, very short. Ear length.

Now, I know that may not sound negative or of importance to you, but it for sure has been devastating to me.
Yesterday, I woke up with two terrible hair knots on each side of my head, and despite managing to untangle one them (losing a terrifying amount of hair in the process), even after 5 hours of trying almost everything you can think of, I gave up on the second one. So, I booked an appointment with a hairdresser for the next day (today).

"Kim, there's people that are dying" is a phrase that was turned into a meme, when Kim Kardashian was crying for losing her diamond earring into the ocean –it was found in the end. I'm not saying my hair is worth as much as a diamond earring, after all, it wasn't extracted from the earth using the exploitation of underprivileged humans, spreading false propaganda of rarity of said material to produce an overpriced product. What I am saying though, is that I know there's more important things than hairs, or my hair. Global warming, modern slavery, war, famine, poverty, social issues, terminal disease, heartbreak etc. etc. ... Hell, I myself suffer from things that are considered more severe than having to cut one's hair short.
Having said that, my feelings aren't any different. It is a loss, a loss I'm mourning for. I'm sad, and I feel shitty. To me, having longer hair was a choice I didn't take lightly. It's not easy to manage long curly hair, and I have cursed in frustration times aplenty, spending hours untangling it. The shortest I had ever gone was shoulder length, even when I had parts of my head shaved. Having longer hair made me feel feminine, playful, free; it allowed me to try different hairstyles, and it had become part of my identity. As a plus size woman (bbw, fat or however you want to call it) I felt that long hair framed my face better and complimented my figure. Moreover, being neurodivergent, when I felt overwhelmed –which is very often– I could always hide behind my hair.

As I mentioned on my Instagram story: I recognise that since I'm sharing things publicly, that can be misconstrued as an invitation for others to chime in with their two cents regarding my situation.
It is not an invitation.
The way being forced to have short hair makes me feel is not negotiable and it is not to be diminished because "there's worse happening in the world." I am painfully aware of the fucked-up-ness that is going on in the world, but I don't see how prohibiting me from expressing –or feeling– my feelings is going to help with that. I did receive wonderful messages from people showing empathy towards my sorrow; I truly appreciate those. I also received messages from people judging my reaction or shoving toxic positivity down my throat. I did not appreciate those.
My feelings don't exist to be judged by you. No one is forcing you to follow my journey on any social media platform, you choose to do so by your own accord. You see the kind of person that I am: passionate, open, creative; I rant, I share my thoughts and feelings. I'm an artist, a mental health advocate, neurodivergent. If these things upset you, or make you feel uncomfortable, an unfollow is a click away. However, if you try to dictate how I should feel, how I should react to these things which hurt me –no matter how small they are (to you): I will not tolerate it.

There is a lot to be said about a society that won't allow people to experience sadness even momentarily; a society always trying to distract us from feeling deeply, thinking deeply, and in general, a society emerged in superficial distractions, but this article was supposed to be about my hair. Or was it? 

Uroboros

The same thing

Repeating and re-repeating until something changes,

But nothing changes;

Stagnant, it all remains the same

Painfully obvious and against us

(01-2022. Inspired by scroll 1 (1996) by Carolee Schneeman)

How are you?

 Apparently when someone asks 'How are you?' they really couldn't give two fucks about the response.

 But if you dare respond honestly, then you're either entitled and privileged for expressing you're not well (I mean, there's people dying after all), or too emotional and just made things awkward. 

Is this an English speaking country thing or a neurotypical persons thing? 

Why are you asking me how I am if the only answer you'll accept is "I'm fine/alright." 

I ain't gonna lie to make you feel comfortable ffs. 

I can't with humans. I CAN'T!

#ΕΡΤ_ανώμαλοι

 

Είδα αυτό στο twitter, και ένιωσα κάτι πέρα από αηδία.
Το tweet ήταν σε σχέση με το φιλί μεταξύ δύο ανδρών που προβλήθηκε στην ΕΡΤ 1 και τις αντιδράσεις στο twitter, σε συνδυασμό με το # που δημιουργήθηκε σχετικά με αυτό.

Ο τυπάς λοιπόν, του οποίου το twitter είναι η τοξική αρρενωπότητα και ο εθνικισμός προσωποποιημένα ανάρτησε το παρακάτω tweet.

Μετά έχουν το θράσος να μου λένε ότι δεν υπάρχει μισογυνισμός.
Εντωμεταξύ κοίταξα ποιοί του είχαν κάνει like, και ήταν το ένα χειρότερο από το άλλο τα προφίλ. Εθνικισμός, ρατσισμός, ομοφοβία, μισογυνισμός, πατρίς-θρησκεία-οικογένεια κλπ.

Ένιωσα να ανακατεύεται το μέσα μου, ειλικρινά.

Έχω επιλέξει να μην έχω τέτοια άτομα στο περιβάλλον μου, και έχω την τύχη να μη χρειάζεται να τα συναναστρέφομαι γενικότερα, οπότε όταν πέφτω πάνω τους, είτε διαδικτυακά, είτε στον έξω κόσμο, σοκάρομαι πραγματικά.
 

Random Thoughts LXXVI

Three things I learned before I turned 33:

1. No one is special

2. Life inherently sucks

3. We're all going to die anyway 

Modern Family?

 Phone call with my parents:

-I need money. I'm going to be a porn star.

-You're too old for that. (dad)

-What?!

-Usually people start that career earlier in life. (dad)

-I'm 32! I'm not old!

-You're not old my love, you're never too old to do anything! (mum)

-Nah, she's too old for porn. (dad)

-Normal parents react differently when their children tell them they want to do sex work. For example, they have an issue with them showing their naked body and doing sexual acts publicly.

-You shouldn't have an issue with your naked body honey. (mum)

-We're progressive. (dad)

Then, I informed them how even my mum could do porn as 70+ years old porn is quite a popular niche, and told them about the time I found out there was a 92 year old prostitute with a two week waiting list in Amsterdam.

We are your average family.

Yep.

Ιστορίες της μαμάς μου Vol. 1

•Ο προπάππους μου και η γυναίκα του που ζούσαν στο γύθειο είχαν ντυθεί εκείνος νταρντάνα κι εκείνη γιατρός σε κάποιες απόκριες και γύριζαν όλο το Γύθειο κάνοντας φάρσες στους συντοπίτες τους! Η μεταμφίεση της γυναίκας του προπάππου μου μάλιστα ήταν τόσο πετυχημένη που κανείς δεν κατάλαβε ότι ήταν γυναίκα!

•Η μητέρα μου πριν βγει στη σύνταξη ήταν αισθητικός και έκανε και μακιγιάζ. Κάθε απόκριες (δεκαετίες 70-80) είχε ουρές απέξω από το ινστιτούτο της από γκέι άνδρες που ήθελαν να τους βάψει Μαρινέλα και Βουγιουκλάκη! Έρχονταν ντυμένοι με τα κανονικά τους ρούχα και άλλαζαν στο ινστιτούτο της γιατί φοβόντουσαν να έρθουν ντυμένοι ως άνδρες με γυναικεία ρούχα. Αυτό είχε ως αποτέλεσμα να μπαίνουν στο κτίριο ως άνδρες και να βγαίνουν ως drag queens! Μάλιστα, όταν η μητέρα μου είχε να βάψει πάρα πολλούς ερχόταν και η γιαγιά μου (Φιλόλογος) και τη βοηθούσε!

•Ένας φίλος της μητέρας μου ήταν drag queen (ανεπίσημα) και η μητέρα μου τον έβαφε και τον έντυνε (με ζαρτιέρες κλπ) και έκανε show στο σαλόνι μας μπροστά στη γιαγιά μου και άλλες γειτόνισσες μεγάλης ηλικίας, οι οποίες τον λάτρευαν και διασκέδαζαν πολύ με το show!

•Η μητέρα μου ντυνόταν άντρας πολλές απόκριες. Μια φορά είχε ντυθεί γαμπρός και πήγε να πάρει από το σπίτι της με ταξί μια φίλη της αισθητικό που είχε ντυθεί νύφη. Τη ζήτησε και από τον πατέρα της ο οποίος έκλαιγε από τα γέλια. Ο ταξιτζής δε που την πήγε (και αρχικά δεν είχε καταλάβει ότι η μαμά μου είναι γυναίκα) έμεινε μαζί τους όλο το βράδυ και της πήγαινε από φιλικό σπίτι σε φιλικό σπίτι μιας και ήθελαν να κάνουν φάρσα σε όλους τους φίλους τους.

•Τότε που νομιμοποιήθηκαν οι πολιτικοί γάμοι, πολλ@ ιδιοκτήτ@ς μαγαζιών με είδη γάμου άρχισαν να πετάνε τα νυφικά που πωλούσαν καθότι πίστευαν ότι ήρθε το τέλος των επιχειρήσεών τους! Έτσι έκανε κι ένας κύριος στο Παγκράτι, και μία φίλη και γειτόνισσα της γιαγιάς μου πήγε και μάζεψε τα νυφικά, τα οποία και χάριζε μετά σε άντρες και γυναίκες για να ντυθούν νύφες τις απόκριες. Τέτοιο ήταν και το νυφικό που φόρεσε η φίλη της μαμάς μου στην παραπάνω ιστορία!

The story of a parrot named Lorrito

Lorrito was a parrot given to my mother by one of her clients. Her client was suffering from a terminal disease, therefore she couldn't take care of the parrot anymore. She knew that my mother loved animals and we had a small jungle of pets over the years. And so, she decided our home would be the best option for the Amazonian Parrot, Lorrito.

I later found out that my mother's client was the second person to take care of him, as his first human also had health issues and could not look after him after a while. When we got Lorrito, he was around 15 years old. I was 12.

Him and my mother had a very special bond; not one you would expect human and bird to form. He would call my mum his 'love', 'darling', profess his love to her and sweet-talk her. If you thought parrots don't understand the meaning behind the words they learn, you were wrong. He knew exactly what he was saying, and that is proven by all the times he would call someone who pissed him off 'wanker' (malakas <μαλάκας> in Greek). 

He attacked my mum and my dad a few times, usually when he got scared of something, or jealous (he was very possessive of my mum); thankfully, nothing too serious -even though both my parents have a couple of scars because of him. Quite often, when he heard my mum taking a shower he would sneak in the bathroom, climb the bath curtain and peek-a-boo her. She would then put him on her shoulder and take a shower with him. Other times, my mum would be sitting on the couch eating pumpkin seeds whilst watching TV and he would be beside her eating pumpkin seeds as well. 

During the summer they would share her watermelon with feta cheese or my mum would be using the garden hose on him and he'd say 'my love' and 'I like this' to her. He let her pet him on his head, his neck and sometimes his back and belly. If I or my father wanted to touch him, he would usually wrap his claws around our finger and say something nice. Unless he was in a bad mood. Then he would swear at us and try to bite us. As long as you were nice to him and didn't do any sudden movements around him, you were going to be fine. 

I'm now realising I'm talking about a bird as if he was human. But you see, he was still part of my family and my mother loved him as her child. He had a personality and characteristics, he wasn't a silent observator... Oh, he wasn't silent at all! I'll never forget him trying to mimic our voices (he was always more successful in mimicking my dad's voice) or shouting happily when he heard children on TV (he seemed to have a soft spot for kids) or trying to unsuccessfully repeat the news on TV. 

Unfortunately, my parents found out very recently he was suffering from bacteria in his gut. Apparently, this type of bacteria is normal in parrots when they live in the jungle, but can harm them when they're domesticated. My parents tried hard to find someone who specialises in exotic birds to help them, and even though they did, Lorrito didn't seem to get better. Today I received the phone call informing me that my mother found him dead in the same spot he fell asleep last night. 

He has gotten so much love over the years and had a plethora of adventures in the 20 years he had been with us. I truly hope and wish his soul will rest in peace. What gives me some sort of comfort is he is not suffering anymore. I hope my dad and even more so my mum will be able to heal from that loss.