Ο Καβαφης τα βραδυα στο φως των κεριων εβρισκε μεσα σε σελιδες βιβλιων ξεχασμενα προσωπα και περιστατικα απο τα Ελληνιστικα χρονια

Ενα αιωνα μετα τα βραδυα στο φως του κινητου βρισκω μεσα σε σελιδες του ιστου ξεχασμενα προσωπα και τραγουδια απο την δεκαετια του 90

I wonder sonetimes how other people see me.

Not friends or acquaintances but rather the total strangers you pass by in the street or on your way to your cafe table.

The people who only bear witness to your existance for the few moments you spend in their field of vision.

Do they register something in those moments? Am I transparent like a ghost or am I catalogued via some subconscious automatic function based on my appearance or body language?

And are there some occassions where I am actively observed and judged, failing or passing the grade set by whoever watches after unknowlingly taking their tests?

I think these futile questions while lying limp on the bed.

The din of the ac reminds me of a ship’s engine running deep in its bowels. But it is an engine running with no propeller to turn, merely there to mock you.

This bed and I on top of it are adrift in a sea of nothingness sleepily witnessing the world around me dropping into two dimensions, becoming nothing more than a badly printed wall poster.

Insomnia is frightening.

It is an army of ghosts

Screaming a single word

Over and over

Why?

This day feels like it was nothing more than a half-remembered dream.

The only proof that it has ever existed are the posts I wrote during its course and this song.

You know,

If I carried a head camera with me

I would film all the times when someone asked me if I’m alone or If I’m expecting anyone

“Περιμενεις κανενα;”

“Για ενα ατομο;”

“Εισαστε μονος σας;”

And do a montage of like a hundred such scenes

And put it on youtube

Over a soundtrack

I’ve met people who can’t handle extended periods of loneliness.

By which I mean they get upset when this happens.

I could help them by offering a masterclass on the subject.

I’d get paid for it and they would  be able to cruise through such periods until they rebound.

I’m walking through an arcade. To my left a pretty blonde girl is startled by the boom of a thunder as a  storm is settling over the town.

How many winters ago was that?

Two, three

Four or five?

I smile and stop wandering.

These memories…

They don’t need time

Today I’ve been using my car as a mobile ground floor living room.

I park somewhere, leave the engine and ac running and just gaze at the urban landscape and human traffic around me.