As I file away blood analysis results I feel like a car owner meticulously storing the service receipts as evidence of good maintenance, in the hope of getting a higher sale price for his property

Failure weaves its own universe, as invisibly and silently as a spider weaves its web

There may be fleeting moments when you catch the change as it happens, a slither of your view changing colour or a straight line bending ever so sloghtly.

You pay no attention to it or if you do, you forget about it the next day.

And then you wake up one day and walk out the door and you do not perceive how twisted your world has become, how utterly warped from what it used to be.

When someone asks, you shrug and ask them back.

You say what do they mean?

You say that it has always been like this.

The attempts of woefully untrained waitressing staff to appear attentive to the customers sometimes create unintentional set pieces.

Case in point, myself, dining alone and feeling more miserable than usual due to an encounter that triggered an avalanche of sunken hopes and bitter memories.

The waitress, a borderline obese  Eastern European  lady, reminded me of an actress I saw in a Balkan film ages ago, playing a gruff landlady. I could not imagine how she landed a waitressing job as the place was a proper restaurant rather than a fast food joint but then again its offerings were of a distinctively mediocre quality so it did not come as much of a surprise; whoever owned the place clearly did not aim to excite anyone with its establishment. 

After finishing my food and holding back the urge to order more wine, I noticed her towering in front of me and with a wide but awkward smile she asked

“Ενταξει, περνατε καλα;”

I could not laugh as I was too weighed down for it to surface but the sheer ridiculousness of her remark and the whirlwind of absurdity that it created around my table could not have belonged anywhere else other than in a fabulous dark comedy.

“Καλω! Ναι!” I replied, playing along in this theatrical adaptation of my life being the only sane option.

Τις νυχτες,σε σκοτεινα γκαραζ,ο χρονος σταματα τζιαι η μνημη αποσυνδέεται

Τζιαι για λλιο, μεσα στο θαμπο φως της καμπινας νιωθω οτι το μονο που υπαρχει στο συμπαν ειμαι εγω τζιαι τ’αστερκα.

Χωρις να με πειραζει.

I went to a talk by the guy who did the video. He’s actually an artist that does installation pieces as well as films. His works merge the public and private aspects of the urban environment as well as creating art out of the flotsam of modern city living. Well worth the time.

The song is unexpectedly mesmerising. The video was filmed from a camera hidden in a piece of luggage left in the middle of the street. 

Μπορει να ακούεται υπερβολικα τρυφερο – εννα μου πεις πιον εν το μετρο – αλλα εν που τζεινα τα λλια ελληνικα τραουθκια που οταν τα πρωτακουσεις εκπλησσεσαι τοσο πολλα που το ποσο γλυτζιά τζιαι απαλη εν η μελωδια τους που ωσπου να απορροφησεις το συναισθημα τελειωνουν τζιαι αφηννουν σε χασκωντας.

Περιπου οπως το κεραυνοβόλο ερωτα δηλαδη μονο που τουτα τουλαχιστον μπορεις να τα ξαναπαιξεις

While moving on the rails

Of my daily commute,

The world revealed itself to me

In a plume of diesel fumes.

Far from any magnificance,

It seemed quite a funny creature

Jumping like a maniac

Stamping on all the little creases

As if perspective was anathema

And flatness ideal.

I came to the place that had the gig straight from a wedding reception, wearing a shirt and long trousers which over the years have become my official wedding receptions clothes.

The cocktail party was a pretty dire affair although in the process I did learn that an attractive female colleague is deeply religious, that out of every hundred local women there is at least one who will wear a breathtaking dress and that crab sticks are definitely out of current cocktail party food trends

The place had a handful of people which on a Saturday night was a bit jarring. It did mean however that the bar was vacant and that noise was almost absent – a rare thing in public spaces here.

I had no idea who the artist was nor had I looked her up; from the half-read text that accompanied the announcement I had somehow managed to imagine their music as a rather stark blend of minimalist electronica interspersed with simple string sounds.

I guess my life does seep through my imagination

But I was completely wrong. So wrong in fact that when they started playing I was taken aback by the realisation of my misjudgement. Instead of desolation I had found beauty, a feeling of enveloping serenity that dissolved all my demons as if they were made from morning dew. In the gentleness of their songs, in that single hour that it lasted, I was free.