I had the idea of writing the same dull routine I follow every day as a daily ppst here.

Stuff like “took a shit” or “staring at the ceiling”

Then I found out that someone beat me to it and called it “The dullest blog in the world”

So now my plans are all up in flames.

Right now I can’t even be bothered to walk to the bathroom.

I imagine myself slithering like a snake, going from room to room without moving a single limb

I am becoming increasingly frail.

Reading one more artist’s statement describing the symbolism, allegorical intent, contradiction and meta-meaning inherent in their latest series of paintings/ sculptures / whatever THAT thing is will finish me off.
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Witnessing the length that some people go to explain to waiters exactly how they want their steak cooked is a profound experience. In a planet where we have reduced the entirety of several animal species to nothing more than chemical fuel for our continuous existance only so as to slowly turn the place into a barren wasteland such spectacles seem equally pointless and grotesque, like watching someone in hell shopping for shoes while a demon is chewing his feet off.
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Whenever I watch salsa dancers do their thing in this country, I am always terrified by their smiles. They look like a combination of one of those horror movie puppets and what one would look like if they were asked to smile by the Joker.
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One of the reasons I avoid watching Cypriot films – other than them being almost always incredibly crap – is that I can’t stand the discontinuity of the scenes. Yeah so you are driving in the capital, turn left at the traffic lights and then you are at the beach. Wait. What?! I guess our big-ass directors aim for the Palme d’Or and don’t give a shit about local audiences.
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After watching a number of world cinema movies at the annual film festival I crave for the next Mad Max and Terminator films. I guess watching movies about incest, rape, loneliness, incest again, murders, child abandonment and whatever stuff the latest Greek directors call “movies” nowadays is not as rejuvenating as I had thought.
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Sometimes I think of skin as chocolate. During such periods the sight of a particular woman – that is the one that is singled out from the crowd – will lead me to the nearest confectionery to get an item of matching cocoa composition

Mort

Once a week I get a visit from the Deaths

Which is to say, it’s not a single figure but several.

I never count them

There is a Death for every person I know plus a Death for every person I might know plus a Death for every version of myself that might exist.

That’s a lot of Deaths.

It’s ridiculous.

It’s not like the room is that big.

I don’t live in a fuckin mansion.

When it gets too crowded some go out to the kitchen and help themselves to the fridge. There’s always some cheese available.

I think they chat between themselves too, though I can never make out what they are saying.

I usually go take a shower at some point and when I return they are gone

Off to the shower then

Caress

Τουτο το κρυο αερακι που σε αγγιζει στο σβερκο σαν περπατας εξω τις νυχτες του Απριλη

Εν απαλο σαν φιλημα