What We Think, We Become

New year. New Challenges. New Reflections.

A lot of things changed once more. I quit my job. I started my business. I quit my other job. Now, it is just me. Just like I am used to I guess.

After a long challenging 3-4 months culminating in the great depression of December, I am slowly getting up again. I have been having a lot of thoughts lately. Knowing me as an overthinker, it is not a surprise though. At least I got closure on the whole situation with that Greek girl from Uppsala. I mailed her to see how she is, and she called me a stalker.

This did two things. My anger for wasting 4 fucking years thinking of a person that is not worth it finally allowed me to overcome it. The second is: Thank you for this slap in the face, but FUCK OFF. Good, that's out of my system. If and when I write in this blog again you won't hear about her again.

Now, on to the good stuff. While it is amazing not having someone tell you what to do, it can be very difficult. Why? Because you have too much downtime where your mind runs wild and "what ifs" take over. The whole point is that I will not have around people that don't want to be around actively or settle down for mediocrity. I am not like this, I will never be like this. It is totally understandable that people don't want to be around negativity, but it also helps you sort of weed out who you want your circle to be. Here's some nice lyrics from a song I like that reflect all this:

But I won't cry for yesterday

There's an ordinary world

Somehow I have to find

And as I try to make my way

To the ordinary world

I will learn to survive

Now I am beginning to meditate and read when I can. Negative emotions will only stay for so long right? Eventually everything passes with time. One of the most common thoughts I have been having, dream you might call it, is me swinging a sledgehammer horizontally towards a concrete, cinderblock wall. I start swinging in normal speed with as much power as I can muster, putting everything I have in that swing.

When the sledge closes in the wall, or the big round cinderblock target as you might call it everything slows. In extreme, extreme slow motion as I plunge the sledge into the concrete, sending powerful shockwaves that shake it to its very core. Yesterday I wondered, why am I playing this over and over in my head.

It can have many explanations.

Breaking concrete foretells you will need to take drastic measures to fix problems and issues. Seeing a hammer can signify the end of resentment, reconciliation and agreement. In many ways, it can refer to peace and letting go. Breaking the wall. The barrier.

That barrier has been built between me and others. Sometimes, when you leave something behind and you don't know what to replace it with, you leave space for the unknown.

Then again, this raw emotion, this raw will to shatter my limits and go even further beyond. This is what keeps me alive.

Recovery comes in response to a need, not just a desire. You have to create that need. Otherwise you are stuck there forever. There is a level beyond, and I will rise to claim it. Ascend.

Let's see what we make out of 2020.

It Burns Mommy, It Burns - Killing Me Softly (2019 Edition)

For me to staring at this blank screen again in 2019 after a whole year, it means something has gone terribly wrong.

Or maybe it never went right in the first place. Only time will tell.

A lot of things have happened since the last post. I quit my job, I started my own business. I found a person that cared for me and fought with her every breath. But once more, I blew it away.

Here I was today, 16th of July 2019 in my 30's reduced to a pile of rubble, tears gashing through my eyes until I could not go on anymore.

Why? Because I was incapable of realizing what an impact my violent upbringing had on me as a child. As an adult. Because I was not capable of looking happy when I see my woman.

In 1.5 year I made strides of progress. I became able to control my temper, to stop ridiculing others even if I didn't mean it. I learned what it means to have a genuine connection with someone. But I could never master it. Not yet at least.

As a result, the only thing I did was once more hurt myself and the people I care about. I feel abandoned and ashamed that two people I considered my best friends don't ask how I am anymore. But at the same time, I cannot bring myself to talk to them and ask them "Are we still friends?".

I sleep late at night. More often than not after 4 am every single day. And then I wake up as late as I can. Just so the day can go faster and I do not have to deal with the loneliness. Oh how it hurts.

There are no happy endings if you can't fix your own shit. There are no words to express my sorrow and regret for the pain I have caused others by words and actions. To the people I have hurt, I am truly sorry.

So long..

"Love passes with love"

Isn't that right Sarah? I don't know if you found it, but I can still see you.

Everything is alright. Everything is going to be alright. 

The land of tears is mysterious. I visited her often, and that's on me.

Every time i get lost inside my thoughts..I get crazy...

It is not nice...

I do not laugh often. I am like ice, waiting to break. My love was stood up in the Airport to Canada.

I shut my self in isolation, saving strength in my heart for my metamorphosis.

I learned to give love, don't be afraid. I will be there if you need me, remember that...

I never pretended, I never played with feelings and I have a reason for that.

Remember, I will be with you to the end of the line, I will be next to you if you stay close to me.

Every time that I get lost, I come back and tread and i wipe out the fears so you are not afraid.

Everyone that wants to stay close to me and give love, stand by me to pass all the difficulties together,

to harness love and kill the fear.

I seek love, passion, scorching hot hugs and kisses..

Don't fuck my heart, I am just a kid...

I have wounds by so many,

my Aurora, you got lost, my friend, you got lost...

I write whatever I feel, sorry but I cannot hold it back...

Show me a sign....show me at least that there is still something left...show me, so I can close this chapter...

Don't cry...everything is going to be ok. Don't be scared. I am with you to the end of the line..

Kostas

Strength forged through sacrifice

Again and again the same questions.

"When does someone truly love me?"

"How should I know, how should I make sure?"

"I am afraid I will be hurt again, I should not open up to others"

And many, many more.

I am not sure about you, but I do not have standards about that and neither should you. In the end, it is just a feeling and every human being (which is your, unknown weird reader from every corner of the world) feels that this person beside me or this person in this city, or this person 6350 kilometres away from me is special and you truly love them.

All you need to do is take a look at animals and more specifically dogs, who love unconditionally and will be by your side no matter what, no matter the hardships. They will not abandon you.

Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there.

Unfortunately this is how it usually goes. Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a teardrop. And sometimes I wonder if love exists just to reminds us how much the human soul can endure. But it is better to have loved and experienced love and lost it than never to have loved at all.

The hottest love, has the coldest end. And the last one was scorching hot. But it never dies a natural death. We just are unable to replenish the source. It dies from betrayal, weakness, fear and errors. It dies from weariness and sorrow.

In more good news (finally), I am getting back to normal. If only my favourite radio station was not playing just sad songs all the time, it would be great. Then again most of the 70's, 80's and 90's songs are like that right?!

I finally finished my Swedish exams and there is no higher level. One year of hard work. One year of unending continuous trying. What a nice feeling. I went out last Friday and Saturday and even had pizza on Sunday. Every place I love in Stockholm now has its own memories. Is that good or bad? It feels like yesterday when she was there eating pizza folded like a sandwich and I was taking pictures. Oh, and I can still see you.

I will focus on myself now again. Done with relationships and sounding needy and desperate. As usual, I am ascending again after a big fall. But was it so big? I guess nothing compared to Niki. It took me 2 years to finally say her name here again, but finally I am not afraid anymore. The only difference is that I was sure this time about my feelings towards little Aurora. I guess little Aurora, with her tiny paws, tiny glasses and tiny ears let me be myself for a few months. I keep having that phrase repeated "I feel so lonely". Well I felt/feel lonely and betrayed too.

Until we "meet" again little Aurora.

Alone in the dark

I am alone. We are alone. We are not meant to be like that.

My day is a barren, empty yellow day. The clouds are looming grey above me in the Stockholm sky and while there is a glimmer of hope, nobody knows the ongoing struggle in my head. People walk past me with their own issues and they will never really care or wonder why does that man look so sad and plunged into lethe.

My day is a barren yellow day,

Joys that sank

Chocked joys of mine.

My life that burns,

in the yellow air

and the love that was lost in the dust,

the life that was lost in the dust...

I can see you. I can sense you. I find myself in random times for no apparent reason whispering "I loved you so much" in this last crescendo of emotions that has engulfed me.

A week has passed and there is no sign. Everything is getting better. Everything is going to be better, but I cannot help but to grief for lost love. A love that needed two people to dance in the same tune, but ended up having just one dancing alone with the air.

Yesterday I had my Swedish national language exam and the ones I call my friends ignored me or sat somewhere else. It is true that everyone must fend of for themselves and that when you are grieving with sorrow you are not welcome into anyone's life or day. I did not expect them to hold my hand, but I expect them to ask me how I am, even as a placebo.

I once made a friend in Uppsala, a girl that we always had this hidden tension between us until she told me about it later but only after she returned to her native Dhaka. In my time of need I have always worried about her and turned to her, looking for some warmth and a familiar feeling, someone I really wanted to talk to and just let go. And time and again, she has rejected it, probably because of her own issues, but having your own issues is another thing, ignoring and not replying is another. And this was the last stroke, I am nobody's toy or last wheel.

Canada has been haunting me. I listen to a football radio, they talk about Toronto. I watch my favourite YouTube computer tech show, i find out he is based in Toronto. I go into the bathroom, I see her ghost, lying there seductively against the window while the mist from the warm water washes it away. I lost my money, my dignity, my pride and my heart. My head is a mess and my life is in tatters.

I can see you. I can see you right now, terrified and afraid. But it is ok. I forgive you. Because no matter how much it hurts, you do not hate people you loved. Even though they disappeared without a trace and blocked you completely from their lives. I always wondered how can you flip the love switch from on to off in a moment.

In my previous post I said I ran away. I was wrong. You were the one that ran away. Instead of sitting there, talking with me about it, solving it and after a time of healing, accept it, become friends and one day, we would discuss it and just laugh about it. I am 30 years old and all I wanted was you to be my girlfriend.

I am 30, addressing myself to a scared teen. I can see you. No matter the blocks, no matter the unfollows, no matter the long text you sent before your actions, I will always see you. And maybe one day you will send me something, open your heart once more, greet each others as old friends and run towards the sunset.

"I am with you till the end of the line"

6350 kilometers

I can’t breathe. 

Don’t let me wake up tomorrow. Give me the drug, keep me alive, give me what's left of my life.

Don't let me go. Don’t let go. Pull this plug, let me breathe.
On my own I'm finally free

Don't let me go. Don’t let us go.

I can’t breathe. Choking on my own air, trying to make it past this week. Nightmares and sweat of lost opportunities.

I can’t breathe.

Moments of calm. Nothing left to be found. I wake up and go in the bathroom.

I can’t breathe.

A mirror right in front of me and that’s where I find an empty glass, reflecting the sad truth
It's telling words not to be told
I need the mask. I need my mask back.

I can’t breathe baby.

I can't tell you how to see me. I am just a cage of bones with nothing inside. Is there a way for me to break?

I can’t breathe.

With auburn hair and blue eyes, the kind of eyes they hypnotized me through.

I can’t breathe.

I ran all night and day, I couldn’t get away.

Aurora comes in view. And I ran so far away. I just ran again. I ran all night and day.

Reached out my hand to touch your face, you started disappearing from my view. Reached out my hand to try again. I just ran. I ran all night and day. So far away. I couldn’t get away.

I can’t breathe baby. I can’t breathe...

It's a sleepless night

It's a sleepless night, she's calling your name.

It's a lonely ride, I know you want her.

Again and again you are chasing a dream.

But Kostas my friend, it's not what it seems.

Just open your eyes, and listen to me.

Her kiss is her poison, forever inside you, wherever you go.

What a way to start 2018. Sitting at work, listening to my lovely late 80's tunes and writing weird blog posts like these.

However, I must admit that everything is rather well. I came back from my holiday vacations and I did not gain a single gram of weight while enjoying the delicious Greek food that I missed so dearly, especially seafood. Yum!

I have been a bit behind my training but that is also alright, my body needed a break and I need to recapture my motivation and start off strong once again. Last year was a landmark in my life and I have vowed to continue. 2018 is going to be my year. The year of the fox. Or scorpion, I just made it up, it sounds slightly poetical and corny. I like corn.

Sipping my tea, why can't you see, oh Johnny B. It is green with a little touch of honey to spice up the flavor a little. In the second screen, Bad Boys is playing on Netflix while I am taking my notes. I got upgraded to equipment manager you see and that means I have to go downstairs in the basement where everything is a big mess and try to shape things up. And that I will do.

The best thing about the basement is that nobody can disturb me and I can work in peace. And even better, I can put on the old fashioned cassette player that has some beautiful rock n' roll tunes from the 60's and 70's and the lyrics actually have some sort of meanings when you compare them to today's music.

I keep thinking about a few things that I want to buy for myself. One is a gaming computer, something that I have solely missed since 2010. The other thing is a beautiful OLED TV by LG that I am most likely going to get later in the year when the prices plummet once again "Insert evil laughter here". The last thing is a car, that would come in the end of 2018 or maybe early 2019. Nothing fancy, something to move me around without having to depend all the time on transport times and very expensive monthly travel tickets. I am looking at you SL Stockholm. Looking is an understatement, I am glaring.

I have a visitor next week. It has been a rough few days of communication between us due to some recently discussed events that have impacted the nature of our relationship severely. But in the end I believe it is the correct decision for both of us and unfortunately, no matter how much I would like it to work and would have moved mountains and the world to make it happen (as we tried) I cannot force anyone to do something that they do not want.

We would pretend, build our rocket ships and then fly them away, destination moon, destination unknown, destination limitless. Dogs, cats, names, activities. My friend once asked me if I was a masochist. Could it be that I secretly enjoy the pain, the failure and the emotions that come with it? Could I be Johnny B?

It's gonna be alright. We are going to have a fabulous time. And I am going to meet my best friends on Monday as well in Swedish class. Did I mention that I am starting again Russian next month to finish my diplomas? How about Finnish too? I guess I am a masochist. But then again, Johnny B, I thrive on pressure in a sadistic way.

How has your 2018 been so far? Don't be shy, leave a long awaited comment. Are you a Johnny B too? Or maybe you are just interested in my beautiful animal pictures in my Instagram. I am not going to spam my profile but my name there is kostasgoesabroad. Original I know.

This is going to be my year and I am going to fill in the last parts of my puzzle. The last few years have been some sort of a Jenga tower, always ready to fall when something happened and rocked the foundations. If you do not know what a Jenga tower is:

1) You are too young

2) You spend too much time on Instagram, Facebook or Phone

3) You are too young

4) You have never played some kind of boardgame

5) Meow (I just felt like adding a meow and wasted your time by making you read this whole sentence)

I will go back to being Johnny B now. But this time I will try to pay attention when the green light turns to green.

This all might sound grim or bleak or negative, but it is actually rather positive. If you are healthy, have a decent job, a home and someone to love, you have everything to be happy and successful. So look yourself in the mirror, set some goals for the year and reach them one by one. You are awesome.

Happy new year!

The lowest depths, the highest heights

Can you believe that 2017 is over already and Christmas is upon us?

Can you believe that this tiny little blog that nobody really cares about has reached its 150th post and is nearing 4 years old?

What a hard year it has been, starting up in the lowest depths possible reaching a career low before May. Then, I decided to make change happen. I set myself goals and I am proud to say that I have hit them all by the end of 2017. Now I have a chance to actually work with what I studied, people believe in me and trust me, I look and feel better than ever and I do not have to think about my daily survival again. Onward to the highest heights.

Because I am Mediterranean though, there are always going to be a few worries, complaints, name them however you want. I can't stop some thoughts bleeding into my head. I can block them or accept them when I am awake, I can laugh at them or just smile or shed a tear in nostalgia but that is it. I cannot do something when I am sleeping.

If anyone has followed my dream diaries here they would know how much they affect me or how real they are. Sometimes it is mind-boggling, sometimes it is so real that I wish it was true and I get to live it one more time even though I am disappointed when I wake up and everything evaporates in an instant to thin air.

The last couple of days I have struggled in my sleep. The first day I thought about my old Finnish girlfriend. I do miss her and the doggie greatly. I hope they are doing well like they deserve and I actually signed up for a Finnish course in February because I fell in love with the country. Torilla Tavataan.

Today I woke up sweaty with a fresh dream about the girl in the yellow dress. It is incredible how some things haunt you isn't it? I remember singing for her while she was staring at me with a blank, lifeless stare like I was non-existent. It hurt.

The good thing is that I can finally woke up and think about someone else pretty special to me right now, someone that I look forward to meeting very soon after Christmas.I hope she can be the light in my darkness.

Then again, is it really darkness? I am not sure anymore. I have a pretty good life right now. I have my goals, I have my job, I have my health, I have my friends, my challenges and I earn a good salary. I...I cannot remember the last time that things were this good...and I have promised myself that things are only going to be getting better as time passes. And when Sarah visits me, it will only get better (smileyface).

Other than that, I wanted to wish everyone Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year 2018 and I will see you on the other side. Remember, things will get better. And if not, make them.

Good morning Sweden.

Love passes with love

It has been a while, hasn't it?

How we deal with disappointments is what decides the person we are. And I have had my fair share of disappointments.

In May 30th 2017, exactly a year after I left the dearest person to me at the time back in Finland, I decided to change my life forever. I stood in front of the mirror, took a hard, cold look at myself and decided that it was enough. I looked me in the eyes and said out loud:

"Take a good look at yourself. Today it is the last time that you see this person in front of you. Take a good look, because this person is going to disappear and from tomorrow you are going to build a better version of yourself, the best version of yourself".

And it began. I cut alcohol, sugary drinks, candy, pizza and every unhealthy lifestyle choice that I was used to overnight. I set it as a goal to speak fluent Swedish by the end of the year, get my six pack, make friends and find a job. A true american dream. I woke up in the morning with an old coat for a pillow and  the earth was last night's bed.

Per Angusta Ad Augusta

Something strange but also familiar happened over the first few months. I saw my body change and I was one more sadistically enjoying the pummeling of my face and body in the boxing class with the veterans. Carpe fucking diem. But above everything, I grew in confidence. I could see it in my posture, I had better grip over my mind and body and the nightmares about the girl with the yellow dress lessened instead of standing frozen in time and space.

My little baby project, the SIWI Sofa.

With confidence came friends and progression. I met two wonderful women, Lauma and Hayriye and more recently Lila and my Swedish improved exponentially. Down went the weight, and down went the burden on my shoulders. I received a call from the Swedish International Water Institute, where they wanted me of all people, to take charge and make an event that was launched for the first time ever a success. You bet I delivered. Here is a picture of my creation on the right.

Then my contract ended and I gave myself one month to find a job. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to and time and money were running out. And boy I delivered.

I finally got an interview with a big international company in Stockholm. I felt it was do or die. I walked in the office and I had a great interview in Swedish. The boss told me that he wanted me to meet the head of operations next week and so did we. The interview was in english and it was the best one I have ever given. The last time I felt such certainty was after a long exhausting exam to obtain the Certificate Proficiency in English 15 years ago. I knew I nailed it.

A week passes, walking under a bridge in Skanstull and I get the job. Boom, you are starting November 1.

My life changed overnight. No more worries about food, rent or survival. I shaved my head, changed my clothes, kept going to the gym 7 days a week. My friends call me boring, but I am in the best shape of my life. I started at 77 kilos and today I was 67,5. Now, I am not the guy to post half naked pictures like I am staring in Twilight but I am proud of myself.

Last week I was in Paris for training with work, in a seminar about safety and hazardous materials and chemicals. It was a long and exhausting but wonderful experience with a great bunch of people from Spain, Belgium, Germany and France.

The problem was...Paris. Paris...how can you put it...Paris was like a rude beautiful woman. Lovely and mystical but when she opened her mouth you wondered in shock and awe. From the rats, to the ridiculous, expensive and terrible metro, to the smell of piss and dirty streets of a modern metropolis, to the terrible architecture in some points, to amazing breathtaking views in other places, it left me craving my home. A home that lies in Stockholm.

Eduardo was one of the guys from Spain. He was a tall super nice and funny guy that likes to run and works as a hydrogeologist. He often laughed at my jokes, especially when I squeezed that lemon accidentally in Paolo's eye. Paolo was Italian/Spanish, living and working in Madrid and having a second life with a Pirate metal band. Yarr. He seemed unable to control his laughter when I said the words "Crystal Meth" which was an incident in the Eiffel Tower. If you want to follow and support his band the link is here. Lovely. Jorn was the teacher and he is the most laid back, funny and great person I have met in such a position yet. He told us a lot of great stories and some of them involve him sleeping in the office and drinking something weird called dragonball.

Other than that...well life goes on and I am growing in confidence in my position every day that passes, both with the language and skills. I am planning a little escape in January to Iceland with a little aurora, to see a little aurora. Mystery is my middle name. Fais mois rever encore une fois.

This is the end. And a new beginning. Why you ask? Because one cycle just closed and a new chapter began. A nightingale sings his song of farewell, the winter is coming. Your heart turns to stone and you are longing for warmth. But then again, what is love without lust?

Goodnight Sweden.

PS. There are a couple of song references, can you find them?

Love begins at 50

Strange title, strange life, strange day. As always right?!

Love begins at 50 is an interesting lighthearted book about a man approaching his 50th birthday and rediscovering love. Strangely enough, the title has nothing to do with the book, but instead is about a person I met today in the dog park of all places. We had such unique and eye-opening discussion today that I fell compelled to write about it.

Let's take it from the beginning shall we?

Beautiful little Adam.

As I was approaching the vasaparken today and was ready to enter the dog yard I noticed three things immediately. Ragnhild and Tage were there and it was lovely to see them after such a long time again. The other two were a slim, beautiful figure and one of the most beautiful cocker spaniel dogs that I have seen in my life. Adam was an orange roan english cocker spaniel that was wiggling his tail in every opportunity, running and buzzing around endlessly, moving with a verve that very few dogs have. It reminded me of my own Flicka and her vibrant, strong personality.

The other person turned out to be Martha, a Swedish woman that had been living abroad for 20 years but moved back for the past 10.

Seeing that she had a cocker spaniel I decided to talk to her about it. We started with some small talk about how I ended up naming my dog Flicka. She is the first person that I have ever met that knows where it actually came from. A movie based on a book, called "My friend Flicka (Hans vän Flicka) about a mustang horse. For me that was a sign that there is something more to this person and I intend to find out.

The conversation was steered towards relationships in Sweden and eventually her own story after moving back as a mother of 3 children, the way she raised them, advice for my friends and me and how unusual and nonexistent Swedish dating is nowadays. Martha even told me that I look a bit older, which is ok by my book since I like older women than me. But what surprised me the most about it was her honesty and no fear in expressing her thoughts. A pretty ballsy move to pull in Sweden these days where everyone is afraid of being misinterpreted, be politically correct or just try to be polite. I like these kind of people.

Eventually I asked her how old is she herself. I said "You look 40, but based on the things you told me you must be older". She laughed and told me that I should not be asking a woman these kind of questions. And then she told me she is 51. I kid you not, I have not seen such an attractive woman at this kind of age, with 3 children. If she was single I would not hesitate to ask her out in a hearbeat. Bear that in mind, we have a 31 year old difference. I actually thought she was hot, but chose to tell her she looks beautiful instead. Classy, smart, well educated, intelligent and ballsy. How could I not converse with her? I liked to meet these kind of women, that can empower others, instigate change, stand up for what is right, have their voice heard and take shit from nobody. All that while being a good person and a mother with values. Now I can see how someone can fall in love with another older or younger person, based on intellectual attraction and not only just looks.

While our doggies were playing around we engaged in this discussion about moving or returning to a new country, how hard it was to make friends, rebuild your life, reinvent yourself and have fun in the process. She ended up telling me that most people here are sadly unsocial unless intoxicated and that Stockholm has the largest amount of single or divorced people in the world. How women sleep with a man, two men, ten men or whatever number, pick the one that satisfies them best sexually and then decide if that man is worth knowing for or has more qualities. I can understand that, sexual health and chemistry is important in a relationship. But we both agreed on the lack of emotion that exists in the Nordic countries. Martha went on an on and I kept looking into her large, glimmering, vivid blue eyes, almost forgetting to take a look at my own dogs. We have a Greek word that I would use to describe her. That word would be "Σαγηνευτική" that in direct translation can mean exciting, alluring, enticing or seductive.

She planted a seed in my brain about how I view the world and dating in Sweden and that I maybe need to reconsider things a bit and change perspective. Today I felt a bit wiser. Thank you beautiful Martha.

Goodnight Sweden

My own Flicka.

Fool´s Bane

Who am I?

Let me answer this for you. I am the heartbeat of a true heart. Hearts like these are hard to find and even harder to understand.

A myriad of things have happened lately. It is so hard to feel home in this country and at the same time feel like a stranger. This cascade of feelings is making me confused, angry, tired, excited. All at the same time.

One of the few things keeping me sane is the friends I have made here. It took me 3 years to make those friends. Lauma and Hayriye, the first people that truly appreciated who I am and let me be myself, and loved me in the process for it. World Water Week 2017 (hint: #WWWeek) came and passed and together it brought a new whirlwind of emotions. I met Maaike, a dutch girl that enchanted me with her personality, whit and incredibly exotic beauty. I met Lila, an older version of me. Lastly, I met Arianna, one of the kindest and most fantastic, vibrant personalities that I have met in a long time.

I had a blast working at SIWI. I got a taste of how it is to work in a Swedish company. If you come from a country where the rythm of life moves so fast and is hectic like the traffic in India, you would be shocked by the differences.

I met a woman named Bim ("Hey mom, this is my girlfriend Bim", would not that sound ridiculous?). We had a moment and then she started the typical Swedish evasion maneuvers. Do you french-kiss your friends in the mouth Bim? Suck my beautiful, big penis and stay away from me.

Then I started talking to this girl last week. I have not met her yet but thinking about her makes my heart skip a beat and stand still in time and space. Katarina will probably never read this tiny spit of sand, this tiny paragraph that took me time, effort and courage to write. But that is ok. I do not know what will happen in the future but I hope I will get to meet her. When someone makes me feel special, they deserve my attention and effort.

In other news, I can speak Swedish like a badass. I got a few job interviews. I have lost 8 kg and I look hot again. I stopped drinking alcohol 4 months ago. I am in the best shape of my life. I wasted 2.5 hours watching Transformers 5. Silvia made me feel like shit again about our failed date. Mayweather dominated McGregor as expected. Greek economy is still shit.

To wrap this up, I am a Fool. But even I have my limits. A cornered fox is more dangerous than a jackal. Whoever wants to stay close to me, they will, and they will be greeted with love, understanding, laughter and never ending support. The rest, as we say in Greece, can take the poulo. I dare you to google it.

Goodnight Sweden.

Till I collapse

Making any sense with these posts is tough. To make any, I would have to go back a couple of years, when the pain started.

"It is ok she said, you have nothing to fear, I am here now", she said with her crisp sweet voice.

Life was getting better. I was sort of recovering and I had invited the girl with the yellow dress home to cook and sleep. She did not hesitate for a moment even at 10 pm in the cold. I was in the kitchen, without any lights on peeking outside the large window hoping to get a glimpse of her shadow.

I rushed out and the pale leftover light of the old lamppost was overshadowed by the dark sky. The sun had set in a beautiful autumn day. I could hear some children from the neighbor's house. I could smell freshly cut grass from the nearby park. I had a nice affordable house with a cozy room, heat and enough income to eat and survive. My university grades were great. I had found a girl that would love me until the end of the world and I was just beginning to realize it. I was almost living the Swedish dream of Hus, Volvo och Hund (House, volvo and dog).

But dreams have the nasty habit of going bad when you are not looking.

I woke up sweaty, reminiscent of those times and looked at the clock. I guess it was just a bad relapse of the past but little I knew that the emotion would creep in into my new work.

New work? Oh that's right. I am working for SIWI (Swedish International Water Institute) and it is awesome. Never again have I felt more respected, needed and welcomed in a workplace before. I just finished my first week and along with the beautiful Swedish summer it has been fantastic. Barring this little incident.

After waking up like this, I wore my good smile, left my worries at home, put my new lovely dress shirt on, fired up happy songs and took the metro to work. The day went by pretty nice, with loads of fika, smiles and food outside in a beautiful garden. Then as I finished work Pernilla, a really nice woman that works in the office started talking to me, trying to lure me to have some incredible cookies that smelled heavenly. I am on super healthy diet for the past 2 months so somehow I refused.

We started talking about life, work and she took me to one of those meeting rooms to discuss more privately. She mentioned my älskling, the girl in the yellow dress. She asked me if I lost her, if I missed her, if I love her, if we have stopped all contact.

In the blink of an eye, I broke down like I had been hit by Zeus' lightning. I asked her to change the subject as I burst in tears. In my 5th day at work. Sometimes you feel weak, you kneel and you question your ability, you want to give up. But somehow, miraculously, you find the strength to get up and fight. No matter how much you want to stay on the canvas, no matter how hard the hit was.

Tell me why we are so blind to see, that the only ones we hurt are you and me?

Well, I am an educated fool, with a goal on my mind and I will pursue that goal until I collapse.

Goodnight Sweden

PS. The Swedish summer and Stockholm are the most beautiful things I have experienced in my life. Live, love, hope fools.

Brightest day, blackest night

I always loved superhero quotes. They might sound cheesy, or expected or they might have been rehashed a thousand times. But some of them still resonate with me and give me hope, despair, or bring back memories. I am going to go watch Wonder Woman after all tomorrow and next month I will go see Spiderman: Homecoming.

Today I was coming back from boxing training in the Allstars training grounds where I have been training for the past 2 weeks non stop. I have not drunk Cola, beer or wine. I have removed godis (candy) from my life, as well as ice cream or fika (kanelbulle). I am eating lean meat, I drink milk and more bananas than ever before. I even started eating hardboiled eggs for the first time in my life. One might say I have become a boring person (Hint: not that I care).

Why do I feel the need to share this with whoever reads it? I don't. This is my sanctuary. This is my place of reflection. And I feel the need to write about it and express myself.

Because as I was riding the train home while listening to some tunes I had random flashbacks of January 11th. It was hard to think about that.

-I will always love you until the day I die. Goodbye my love, I told her while tears started flooding my eyes. It had to be done and my mind was lost in lethe as I was touching her right cheek just like you see in movies. With real emotion. It was then when I started feeling the first real crack in my heart again. It was breaking.

Just about to blow.

I went on the bus, number 14 towards my house while crying in public, trying to hide my face in shame from the rest of the passengers. My phone rang 10 minutes later. It was the girl in the yellow dress again.

-How are you? I cannot let you be alone today. Get your strength up and come stay with me tonight ok? I don't want you to be alone, she uttered. She tried so hard to let me in in her life and support me in my blackest night. Why could I not find the courage to break my shackles and overcome my fear?

That night shortly after I took two buses and traveled all over the city to be there and watch a movie with her and her roommate. We watched Skyfall. Could there be a more fitting movie for me? Showing my longest fall after my brightest days? Falling in the abyss knowing tomorrow is going to be bleak?

We held hands all the way through the movie and when there was a compassionate moment I could she her looking at me with her dark mellow eyes deep inside my soul, piercing through all my defenses. She was stroking my hand and I fell warmth. A warmth I have never felt again. Euphoria.

I spent the most beautiful week of my life there. Right before my heart was hit with a sledgehammer. My brightest day. My blackest night.

"In brightest day, in blackest night,

No evil shall escape my sight.

Let those who worship evil's might,

Beware my power, Green Lantern's light"

So that is how the whole superhero quote thing started today. I like how it has some positivity to it. Even in your blackest night, you just have to keep your faith up and keep going. And one day you shall return to your brightest days.

In brightest day, In blackest night.

Goodnight Sweden.

Heroes of our time

Where have you been?

Been searching all along

Came facing twilight on and on

Without a clue

Without a sign

Without grasping yet

The real question to be asked

Where have I been?

Where have I been really? We are on life's path trying to find our purpose and success and trying to find our other half. Can someone tell me what is temptation and what is love before I go crazy? I gave everything, or maybe nothing and now I am erasing the dreams day by day. Can you do something to make the pain go away?

I just want to loudly scream "I can't take it anymore, I can't figure it out". But then again maybe the answer lies within me instead. Yes, that's it. I am grateful that there are a couple of people that still love me for what I am. I used to shine with the brightest flame and frankly I am surprised that they still can see it through all the darkness and the mask. I wear a mask at all times, hiding both face and mind, afraid that if I take off the mask the darkness will be revealed. Or maybe not anymore? Is it time for my second phoenix rebirth?

Sebastian threw me a punch in the ring last Thursday that was so strong that it made me dizzy. He kept pummeling me in the body with multiple shots, just like how life has been hitting me since that dreaded moment I met the girl with the flower headband. But instead of throwing punches at me, she only tried to throw me love. And I failed miserably. And 2 years later I am still here writing about it.

As Sebastian was hitting me with everything he had my mind was wondering in time and space while the pain was almost giving me a headache. But I knew I had to pull through. I always did. I waited for him to punch me and leave himself open and then I crushed his jaw with my right fist. I let a shriek that echoed strong within the room as there was a clash of bone and sinew.

He kept going. My stomach was purple and I wanted to fall on my knees and say "Please, that's enough". But instead I looked for another opening while allowing myself to be punched. Right hook, dove under and hit him right in the ribs, then with a left hook in the face. I understood how strong us humans can be and how important 1 punch can be when compared to dozens. Maybe I am a sadist or a masochist and I enjoy the pain somehow. Maybe it is a matter of upbringing and past memories.

I took a look at the only 2 pictures I have from her and me and they show my nadir and zenith. I took a deep breath and started talking to her. In the picture.

"Hej...I....I did something good today. I saved some people in the metro. I wish you could have seen me. I thought you would have been proud of me. Maybe even yell at me for being heroic and that I should not do these things so I can come back home safe."

When people asked me what is my greatest fear, I always replied that it was heights, or the fear of edges. But she made me realize that my greatest fear is being part of a family again. But you can't be a hero if you only care about yourself.

Apart from all the terrible things that happened to me and all the terrible feelings that I made you go through, we kept coming back. The reason I left you is the same reason I kept coming back. The fear, the pain of losing someone you care so much about and when you try falsely to protect them with the only way I know...pushing them away.

Sometimes..sometimes losing people is a part of life...but...this doesn't mean you should stop letting them in...Some very wise people taught me that. My life's love that I cherished the most reminded me how it is to feel loved again and what true love feels like. She taught me that I, for all my faults, have something that is worth loving.

I pushed myself to get out of the house more recently and I had real help from someone over the past month that I am so grateful for that it is difficult to put into words. She stands just 1.52 cm over the ground but she stands tall like a mountain. She might not realize it but she is one of the most important people that I have met lately and one of the reasons I am putting some extra effort and to get out of my comfort zone. I would rather be surrounded by 1-2 people like her than a whole horde of people that don't really care about me and text me only when Facebook reminds them that it is my birthday. So thank you. I love you for what you are.

I'm a shapeshifter. What else could I be?

Goodnight Sweden

Infiltrating the Swedish nightlife - How do they do it?

Last week I was supposed to go out on Saturday and meet up my friend Dimitris. Sadly, Saturday was the day of the Greek Football Cup Final versus AEK and PAOK. When you pit the fans of these two teams together that almost share the same banner but with a different color, it is like putting a group of hooligans against each other. Better say, you are.

Needless to say, everything went well as expected. A guy was knifed, people went in the hospital, police looked there waving and then the Final started. PAOK won 2-1 with a controversial decision, my friend was gutted and told me that he will stay home and grief instead of going out with me to grief with a pint or two.

So here I am, 21:00 o'clock pondering what should I do. I wear my nice black pants, shoes and shirt and I start making my way to Hornstull in my classic place - Hornhuset (pretty hilarious name to be honest). I decided to go out and write about the nightlife in Stockholm in a rather popular place where things happen all the time. The previous day was equally eventful as I saw 2 guys sniffing cocaine from their mobile phone right in the metro train at 7 pm. I am literally speechless. Good job Sweden!

I make it to the bar, say hi to the guard. He asks me if I am alone and I say yes and that I go there every week. He smiles, says "welcome sir", because apparently I am one and I get inside to be welcomed by 80's pop music.

I go to the top floor to observe, get a beer but there is nothing interesting going on at that point so I grab my coat and beer and go downstairs again. There is a girl sitting on a guy's lap next to some of their friends. She stands up, probably to go to the bathroom and the guy does whatever a guy would/should do in 2017 (hint, I am being sarcastic): slaps her ass so hard that I heard it from 3 meters away. She turns back, gives him a whydidyoudothatbutitsok look and goes on with her business while the guy revels in the spoils of victory like a baboon.

I manage to keep my composure and I move in to the tables where I can sit. There was a company of rather young Swedes with a lot of drunk girls and more joined them later. I had some space next to me and there was this blonde guy called Fabian who had no place to sit so I actually told him that there is space if he wants to. He asked me if I am alone and I said yes.

"That is very nice of you", he said to me. It felt nice to hear that.

Then two black guys that were wearing their hats sideways (because it is always gangsta) started praying on women around the tables and dancing terribly in some sort of liquid dancing robot. That led me to the thought that in Sweden everyone dances weirdly, or terribly, or whatever they want and they don't seem to care about it. Frankly, I can't do that, I feel like a fool and the fact that I rarely drink doesn't help either. But man those guys were just the tip of the iceberg. There were man-vultures all over the place, going like a machine-gun from woman to woman trying to score.

At one point I saw what I thought was a couple kissing really passionately and I became pretty happy because it looked so genuine. I ended up seeing the girl in tears leaving the metro 5 hours later.

I was alone so I had to pretend to play with my phone to not look like a creep too much. I ended up reading some amazing psychedelic posts on my Facebook news-feed and then to go have a second and last beer. I had to wait 33,6 hours in the queue because hot girls were a priority instead of a well dressed, polite and sober young man (I am still young at 28 right?).

Then Doctor Zhivago entered the fray when I started to feel way too hot in the bar. The zhivago reference is probably unknown to anyone outside Greece and we use it when someone wears a turtleneck sweater. I felt like a volcano ready to explode just by looking at him. It was like 30 degrees in there.

Then came the moment that I dread the most when I am out. I needed to pee. I take a deep breath and go in the toilets. Snus everywhere. Snus on the walls, snus on the ground, snus in the sink, snus in the toilet, snus in the snus. Next to me a guy is relieving himself with peacock sounds and another one is betting on Bet365. Which reminds me of another sad soul in the bar that was playing Candy Crush. For the love of baby Jesus i am not joking.

When I started to be a bit bored, Fabian came to the toilet and remembered me and he stood there and chatted with me a little. He was embarrassed that his female friends were so drunk that they were on the table dancing. It was interesting to hear that as most of the time, who cares?

Then the popcorn moment of the night happened when guys started punching each other and the guards reacted like the recovery of the Greek economy (hint, very slow). So I did what I had to do, went to a guard, told him punches in the bar, he looked very surprised and ran to calm the spirits. Laugh? Cry? Both? Hilarious nonetheless.

Just when I was about to leave I saw a guy drinking beer and between his legs he had a motorized unicycle. In the bar. I am speechless again.

Awkward to say the least. But at least they are on a unicycle, and you are not right??

Bar closed and I began to make my way home after I had some mandatory crappy food in McDonald's with random Greek guys I met in the tube. It was not a bad night and it is proof that you can have a good time even by yourself!

In the meantime, I will go back to my trance and try to figure what is wrong with this place. Or maybe it isn't. Maybe weird is the new black. Or maybe I am weird and it is normal. Or maybe I should just go sleep now. Too much Eurovision drinking yesterday.

Laters Sweden.

Me against the world - The Winter Soldier

Hej.

I have come a long way since last year when I began studying Swedish to change my future into something better. The other day in school we were asked to interview a person and write a reportage about it. I completed my reportage and then submitted it. The teacher told me that it was a fantastic text and my friends said:

"Thanks for letting us read it."

"It looks like a story that I would like to read more about."

"You should publish it."

So here I am posting it after the requests. Who knows, maybe it will resonate with someone. Someone might even pick up the secret at the person I interviewed was myself. It is in Swedish though, making it my first Swedish post so it is strictly for Swedish users or someone that wants to see what have I accomplished in 5 months of learning the language. Enjoy.

"Jag mot världen"

Att flytta till ett annat land och leva helt ensam är inte lätt. Ändå är det precis det som Vintersoldaten har gjort och idag berättar han om sitt beslut att resa bort från sitt land och försöka att finna lycka i Sverige. Den här är hans berättelse.

Figur 1. Svart och vitt som mitt liv

Jag bestämmer mig för att promenera vid Sergels Torg i centrala Stockholm för att hitta en person som är villig att prata lite om sitt liv. Jag föredrar att samtala med en person från ett annat land, en person som har flyttat till Sverige och skulle vilja prata om livets svårigheter. Dagen är underbar, himlen är klarblå och solen skiner. Gatan är fylld av folk och jag beslutar mig för att besöka ett populärt café nära Kulturhuset.

Caféet är slitet men hemtrevligt. Dekorationen är modern med många målningar av populära svenska konstnärer men det finns en gammalmodig känsla också. Jag tittar på folket runt omkring mig och jag ser en intressant person som sitter på en gammal läderfåtölj. Han verkar trött men stark på samma gång och hans ögon är svarta, klara och ger intryck av en bestämd person som har haft ett svårt liv. Jag närmar mig och presenterar mig själv, och jag frågar om jag får prata med honom. Efter en stunds resonerande bestämmer sig för att diskutera med mig och svara på alla mina frågor men han har en begäran. Han vill inte avslöja sin identitet och vill kallas som Vintersoldaten istället.

Vintersoldaten är 28 år gammal och kommer från Medelhavet som jag. Jag är nyfiken nu och vill veta mer om honom.

-Jag har bott i Sverige i 3 år, och i somras flyttade jag till Stockholm för att påbörja min karriär efter universitetet i Uppsala. Livet är svårt eftersom jag är ensam nu och jag har inga släktingar i Sverige. Nu har jag ett extrajobb som precis räcker för att överlevaär nog att överleva men jag måste hitta ett bättre jobb snart eller så kommer jag att svälta, jag kommer att svälta, berättar Vintersoldaten.

Jag undrar /hur man kan resa bort från sitt hemland och lämna alla sina vänner och familj bakom sig. Vad driver någon att vända sin värld upp och ner?

-Mitt hemland har bara dåliga minnen för mig. Folket lider varje dag och jag vill göra en skillnad i världen. Det var ett ganska lätt beslut att flytta till Sverige men i början kände jag mig ensam för mycket och ofta ifrågasatte jag mig själv men nu förstår jag att jag är starkare eftersom jag är en kämpe som kommer att lyckas i framtiden, säger han med en klar röst.

Jag kan känna passionen och kraften i hans ord. Jag sitter fokuserad och frågar mer om hans familj. Har han några personer som han kan lita på? Finns det någon speciell i hans liv?

-Förra året var jättesvårt för mig och min familj. Min far blev sjuk och nu måste jag skicka pengar till honom så att han kan köpa sina mediciner. Min morbror avled och min mamma är deprimerad nu tyvärr. Jag har två goda vänner men jag förlorade en tjej som jag hade förälskat mig i. Det var den svåraste perioden i mitt liv och jag försöker fortfarande att återhämta mig, berättar Vintersoldaten med en tår i sina ögon.

Det finns många invandrare i Stockholm men jag är nyfiken på hur han känner. Jag vill också höra mer om tjejen som krossade hans hjärta. Han tar tar ett djupt andetag innan han svarar.

-Stockholmare är snälla, vänliga folk som som ofta vill hjälpa dig och försöka att vara artiga. Jag har inga anklagelser mot dem. Problemet är att många också är oärliga, och det finns väldigt ofta en känsla av social rasism i luften. Det är svårt att få jobb när du kommer från ett annat land och om ditt namn inte slutar på –sson. Det gör mig arg men också bestämd att lyckas och förverkliga mina drömmar, säger han.

Han vill inte prata om tjejen men han är villig att prata om sitt smeknamn och ge några råd till andra invandare och folk.

-Det finns ingenting speciellt med mitt smeknamn. Jag växte upp i en svårt livsmiljö och varje dag är som en vinter. Men jag är en kämpe och ska aldrig ge upp. Detta är varför jag valde att kalla mig “Vintersoldaten”. Mitt råd till alla människor är att våga och följa era drömmar. Ni kan verkligen göra skillnad i världen och utforska era gränser. Ni kan bli något mer än endast en person i mängden. Våga att förälska dig och när du hittar en person som är villig att ge sitt allt för dig, öppna ditt hjärta och personen komma in. Jag förlorade min chans. Var inte som jag, berättar Vintersoldaten.

Jag tittar på honom och försöker att absorbera allt. Han tackar mig och önskar mig en trevlig helg. Jag är mållös men jag har en sista fråga.

-Vem är du egentligen?, frågar jag honom medan han går iväg.

Han vrider sitt huvud, tar en lång paus och tittar på mig. Hans blick når min själ.

- Vem jag är? Jag är hjärtslaget av ett sant hjärta, säger han och lämnade caféet.

Det är hur en invandrare ser på världen i Stockholm i 2017.