This is my story

A lot of things have happened since the last post in December. I live in Finland now until June. I am halfway through my thesis. I spend too many hours in the house watching Twitch and playing silly video games.

I have been writing a book. It may or may not be released ever. It is based on a true story. As i try to banish these thoughts from my head making it a daily struggle i thought i could write a bit here, a few fragments and share with whomever happens to be around. A message to everyone: Even though a choice comes back to haunt you and your dreams, do not regret it. It happened for a reason. Everything happens for a reason. So without much introduction, here's a section based on a true story. If people like it, i will share more. Enjoy.

"She promised me we would wake up at 4:21 to catch the bus around 5 am. We both set our alarms around that hour and we kept talking and hugging until time passed and it was over midnight. I told her to save her strength and take a short nap as I was anxious and could not sleep, fearing of not waking up. I watcher her sleep and I decided to lie next to her, smelling her hair and neck, trying to absorb that smell and keep it forever with me.

Eventually I fell asleep. A few hours passed and I woke up by sheer luck around 4:40. In the beginning I was happy. We were sleeping together, holding hands, like inseparable partners. It was the second time I had that feeling i felt in October 21st, that it was here that I belong. Then happiness gave way to panic as I saw the time and woke her up. She panicked too and we started looking for alternatives. It was not easy moving around the deep snow with 5 bags weighting so much. I watched her dress, I watched her care, I watched her have a deep sorrow in her eyes.

We found out a time that we could barely scrape it to the bus and the train at 5:26. We dragged my bags through the snow for 15 minutes in a massive struggle towards the bus stop in Flogstavagen. She was powering forward without stop, determined and strong. If only she knew how much i admired her. Once we reached the bus stop we waited there, it was cold. It took 10 minutes for the bus to arrive and we hopped on in the middle, tethering the luggage with a belt and sitting together on top of them.

When we finally made it to the train station we run with as much strength we had left to catch the train. It was leaving in 3, 2, 1 minute. But when we went to the platform there was no train. It was Sunday and the next train left in 30 minutes at 5:56. I would barely make it to the ship. I sat there with a big void in my eyes while she comforted me. I was about to leave her forever and she was still strong for me.

The train came. We sat side by side and I held her hand strongly while caressing her hand with my fingers. She was wearing the ring i gave her underneath her gloves. A ring that i carried through my entire life since 1998 and I will never see it again. Nor I will see her. The only thing she didn't know was that I had another ring with me. I ring I planned to give her in June 3rd, right after my thesis presentation. It was a vows ring that had a name engraved on it "Νικη Μανδηλαρη Σαρρη". It was the only thing that kept me going.

We once more raced through the train platforms of Stockholm towards the taxis. There was no traffic so there was a glimmer of hope of making it there with the ship leaving at 7:45. It would be close. The taxi driver asked some questions and when we said we are from Greece he began talking in broken Greek as well. He was an expat from the Middle East that loved Greece for his holiday destination. He took us as fast as possible to the ship docks. My heart was racing.

I bought a ticket and was ready to go through the passageway alone to the ship. I don't know how i found the strength to carry 5 bags. I said a quick goodbye to her and a kiss and run and run and run. Bags were falling, but i kept going. And then i reached the entrance of the ship. It would leave in 5 minutes. I stood there watching as the steward urged me to enter the ship or risk missing it.

I turned back and run to the lobby. She called me to see if I made it. I lied and said that the ship left early. It was all a big lie. It was a lie because I missed the ship on purpose so I got to spend another day with her. I could see the small happiness within the sorrow in her eyes. We would spend 12 hours wandering in Stockholm together. I held her hand once more with pride and squeezed it as much as I could as we walked our way towards Gamla Stan to find a coffee shop to sit and relax. I stopped and looked at the purple sky of Stockholm admiring its beauty. I told her "This is not how I expected us to see Stockholm together, but it is so beautiful".

We walked  towards the center and sat down in a shop called Espresso House. It was the dirtiest coffee shop we had ever seen. We took some juice and bread and we sat on the couch removing our shoes. We cuddled as I held her hand and legs. That is how that day started, a day of happiness, love, sorrow and pain."

We don't talk anymore as she blocked me from her life. She doesn't know everything and probably doesn't want to anymore. She is having a good life. I am happy for her. The sun is burning bright in Turku right now. And so is my passion. I hoped you like my story. I will close out with a song. A song I have handwritten among other things and wanted to mail it to her for her birthday in September 4th. Do you think I should, or should I let her walk her own path?

Song by Dido - White Flag

I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,
Or tell you that.
But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it
where's the sense in that?

I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder
Or return to where we were

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

I know I left too much mess and
destruction to come back again
And I caused nothing but trouble
I understand if you can't talk to me again
And if you live by the rules of "it's over"
then I'm sure that that makes sense

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

And when we meet
Which I'm sure we will
All that was there
Will be there still
I'll let it pass
And hold my tongue
And you will think
That I've moved on....

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

Θα σε αγαπώ μέχρι να κλείσω τα μάτια μου. Είχες δίκιο, διάλεξα να μείνω μακριά σου. Είχες δίκιο, μου δώθηκαν άπειρες ευκαιρίες.  Αν το διαβάσεις αυτό ποτέ, θα σε αγαπώ όσο καμία. Δεν ήσουν ποτέ δεύτερη. Ήσουν η Νίκη της καρδιάς μου και ήθελα θέλω να γίνεις η Νίκη της ζωής μου.

Get in there and fight maggot

"Look at the moon sergeant, i have never seen it move so fast" I gasped with a fake excitement.

"You are right soldier! That is so strange!" he replies. And then he sat down on a wooden log clutching his face and gazing upwards.

The moon was covered by clouds. It was windy and the clouds moved really fast, creating a fake placebo effect that the moon was moving in great speed. That summed up the intelligence of our commanding officer for the night. A brain straight from a herbivore dinosaur, the looks of a cave troll and the manners of a pig.

To be or not to be? You take no candle?

Moments ago he told me to shave better or he will report me, to clean my boots and all the bird crap from the entrance of the hallway because the next day the General would arrive to inspect, the same thing was said for the past week. He never came.

The breeze was sending chills in my spine through the light fabric and the joke of a shirt they provided to us. My zippers did not work from day one, but the response from them was "i don't care maggot". I will never forget his face, his shape and the way he talked. He was the size of a tanker with 4 layers of fat overlapping his belly. I bet he could not even see his legs or his dick. I will never forget the way he munched on that sandwich when all we had that day was processed dead meat from the 70's, black as the plague and ready to come alive and conjure you like the symbiote from spider-man.

The days were not passing fast. I still had 79 days to be released and i wanted to go in bed and cry in every opportunity. I was heartbroken and alone. The first week i was told that first they will break my spirit and then my body. And so it happened. But i would not give them the satisfaction. I would never buckle to that baboon, or that other goblin faced stuttering gorilla in the telephone center. Not to the captain of the battalion that only knew how to shout, punish and crush us like ants with his well shined boots. And then lick the balls of the higher officers in every attempt, because he was young and he could advance faster up the ranks.

That summed up my day. Drenched in sweat and smell, with sticky hands and clothes not washed in 2 months I sat there looking at him gazing, oblivious and calm. There was no washing machine. Home was supposed to be 30 minutes away, but she chose instead to break my heart and love my dog with someone else. My real home was 1000 km away. I had no friends, only a hundred strangers i barely knew and shrouded them with lies and false identities.

I woke up the next day knowing it would be a tough one. I had nightmares. The screams and laughter of a person you used to love, looking down on  you from above and raining death and sorrow. And the endless snoring of the 3 other soldiers in the room echoed in my ears like a shrieking banshee, draining my endurance with every cry.

"Dress up right now you dirty faggots. You have 3 minutes to shave and 10 minutes to eat".

The insults did not affect me anymore. I was immune years ago from my home. The brutality and the psychological warfare affected most of the people. They say that under extreme stress and conditions you can see who the real person hides between that smokescreen we have. The same happens with alcohol.

My body was broken though. The boots weighted a ton and every step was a painful step towards torture, like dragging a huge concrete ball chained to your ankle.  The broken belt buckle did not help to hold your pants in place as I had lost 8 kilos in the past 3 months from grief and pain. The shirt was 2 sizes bigger and limited my every movement. My legs felt like glass, ready to break up in any minute. I still carry the effects of all these in my life even now. Battle scars that will never heal.

I managed to drag my lifeless body, like a zombie in the breakfast restaurant. Bread and cheese. And then a chocolate milk to quench my thirst for a few hours as i headed in the telephone center. Before even entering i was handed a broom and a machete.

"Do not even consider coming back in if you do not clean every pine needle, leaf or dirt from the entrance and cut the grass and the trees in the back of the house." the cruel taskmaster said.

I harnessed every last drop of strength i could muster and started chopping down trees, hitting them with brute force and the fury and anger of a thousand generations. In every swing i saw my target as the people i hated the most, unleashing years of pain and suffering. I could see their faces and with every swing they laughed at me. They disappeared until the next swing, like a shadowy doppelganger.

I finished and entered the phone center. The goblin faced Gollum shows up and looks me from top to bottom. Sweating and black from the mud and resins.

"2 days in prison for looking like this" he says without the slightest hesitation.

I do not talk. I just look. With a devilish look right in the soul of a man consumed by fear and duty. I saw beyond his mask and saw an afraid little goblin that could not tie his own shoe-lashes let alone give a convincing order to a soldier.

"Yes sir. I will clean the bathroom and your office now and bring your coffee and pie" i replied. That day i spat on his coffee.

When it was time to sleep at 23:00 i lied on my bed with my blanket from 1976 and i looked around. People snoring like the end was coming or possessed by the devil. A guy that his blanket smelled like liquid death. Another lazy sneaky bastard with feet that probably caused ebola. And another one that was living for 2 months with fleas under his bed and washed every month once and played with his dick in the third toilet in the left.

"You will never understand what i am going through" i told her in one of our last meetings.

"I will not" she said.

Goodnight Sweden.

How i miss you..

A slap in the face

We were in class around 10 am. A small class of 16 kids around the age of 12 in the spring of 1999. Geography was in session. I was pretty damn good at it. I could name most of the countries in the world along with their capitals, i knew every single big city in Greece too. It was a subject where i flourished along with history. I was like an information sponge back then.

The school was a private school. It was run by a gambling glass wearing man with fake teeth and self-destructing habits. When someone did something bad he smacked them in the face once or twice as a form of punishment. I only remember him hitting the boys. I remember once hiding in the toilet for 2 hours after i was kicked out of class for being noisy during theology so he wouldn't find me.

He comes in as a surprise visitor and asks what are we studying.

"Geology sir!", echoes from the class with a commanding shout.

"Great. Who is going to stand up so he can show me some countries on the world map?", he says.

We had a particular person (let's call him Sokratis) in class that was always conjuring stories to get out of trouble, enslaved us to do chores and he was the most selfish football player i had ever seen. Nonetheless he was our friend, i guess because when he was not surrounded by his other older friends or cousins he was not an asshole.

The previous week we had finally edged a mini football marathon between us and the high-school class 33-32. So he decided to storm into the principal's office and steal a fake golden cup as a trophy for our win. The principal (the same guy this story is about) sees the missing trophy that was on the left of his office entrance right next to "The Dictator" by Charlie Chaplin. He goes on a revenging rampage trying to find out who did this.

He confronts me, this friend and two others from the higher classes in the entrance to the main building trying to beat the information out of us. Then my best buddy then Stavros arrives. Back then he was a far cry from what he looks like now. Just like i was. No wonder we matched. Small, thin, with baggie clothes and round big glasses and spiky hair.

He arrives casually with a smile on his face and a brand new croissant he had just purchased from the cantina in school. Then Sokratis points at Stavros and says:

"I saw him going out of that room!"

The gambling principal turns around and smacks him in the face so hard that his glasses were thrown away and his croissant fell on the ground. What a bunch of assholes.

Back to our story, after that incident i was fuming as he treated me like garbage every single time he had the opportunity. This was my bright moment.

"Sokratis is pretty good at geography sir!", i yell with lightning reflexes and a quick smirk on my face. Comedy was about to ensure.

He walks to the World Map and i will remember the following thing until i die and hell freezes over.

"Tell me Sokratis, where is Greece on this map?"

You could feel the tension rising, the anticipation of me and my fellow students and the nervousness of the boy next to the nefarious principal.

"Here sir!", he says with a fake confidence that would fool anyone that didn't know him.

"You stupid malaka! This is Africa!" replies the principal.

He then unleashes a fearsome right slap on Sokratis's face and after the initial silence everybody else in class bursts into laughter.

What is the moral of this story however? If there is any that is.

This man now earns 1.500.000 euros per year and he plays football for one of the leading teams on the planet, Borussia Dortmund. He claimed once in 2008 in a newspaper that in his free time he likes to read history and geography books.

The principal lost all of his teeth, his wife left him and his son is a failure. He had multiple heart attacks, lost the school and all his property. I am not even sure he is alive now.

There is another story i can share with you. All of these may seem pointless, but they are not. There is always a moral in the end. You learn that in the army, you can find something positive even in a pile of shit.

I was always good with the English language. Sure i am not perfect. But i speak and write much better than most people if i make the effort. It is one of the only good things i gained from playing World of Warcraft. Vocabulary, accent, speech and communication.

So from a young age in Greece parents instill a need to be multilingual to succeed in this complicated world in their kids. Fine with me. I can speak Greek, English, French, Russian, Swedish and i am learning Finnish now. I was sent to a private school for foreign languages for english. I was pretty good and they recognized that, sending me to summer camps and advanced lessons 3 years above my age. I was there with the big boys and i was 9-10 years old. I was very noisy. Very noisy and irritating to some people. Especially a girl called Christina that was so ugly i would rather see the human race perish than procreate with her. Needless to say i hated her as much as she hated me. She sent me to the principal's office countless times. Once i was sent there accompanied by her and they both told me one month before my Proficiency Certificate in English exam that "There is absolutely no chance you will pass this exam with that attitude." She also told me i suck.

Forward a few months and the results are out. I passed with a great grade. I frowned upon the principal in the ceremony. 90% of the class failed the exam. Including that girl.

What is the moral of all these stories then?

First is that revenge is a part of human nature. We are a competitive species that always wants to be in power and make the others bow and submit to our superiority. And if they don't we will make them to. The other one is that you get what you deserve. Sooner or later. Sokratis made fun of us. He paid in the same way. My girl cheated on me for a new love. She got dumped 1 month later on Valentine's Day. A prick ratted me out in the general for sleeping in the army. He got 30 days extra service.

The last and most important part is: Never back down. Never. No matter what they tell you, no matter how nobody may seem to believe in you, you can do it. Have a goal, fixate on it, trust yourself, like yourself and you can do it. And do not seek revenge on others. Life is a wheel and it will keep spinning. My two cents for the day.

Good day Sweden!

On top of the world in the Arctic Circle.

From dusk till dawn

Why always me? This is a thought that accompanies me whenever i travel. I always find myself into sticky situations i loath and try to avoid.

When i have a big trip i just want to relax, since i can rarely sleep in a moving vehicle or aircraft. Every time there is a person sitting next to me or in close proximity that i end up wanting to choke with my bare hands.

My usual co-passengers are:

A) Smelly

B) Loud and cracking worse jokes even than me

C) Couching like they are dying in a corner with tuberculosis

D) Poor young children that unavoidably cry so much i want to shoot myself in the foot.

E) All the above

Today i had a mixture of b) with a lot of d). It's ok i will survive. I always do.

The trip to Athens though was good. I had my own seat in the bus. I spent most of those 3 long hours listening to music. Thoughts spun like a whirl inside my head, the lyrics of each song reminding me something from my life, some of them looking like they were tailor made for me. I caught myself staring at the dark abyss outside the window with a blank stare while i was thinking, trying to relive those situations. I wrote everything in paper on my notepad so i did not forget a thing.

I made it to Athens and took a cab. More than 20 years i take taxis but it was the first time ever i woman was driving it. We had a chat until i made it home which was nice because she was super friendly and discussed her story with me. She has a 30 year old son and a 28 year old daughter. I wish them well. She was amazed by my story and kept asking me questions about Sweden and life here. As a good ambassador i told her the best things.

I greeted my sister and we watched some really terrible greek shows that remind me why i don't watch greek television. I remember loads of tits, porn filming by amateurs and an erotic festival that is there to promote dildos of any kind. This is entertainment at its finest.

I upgraded my Dark Energy Drill to level 2 and i slept on the couch. I had to wake up at 5am and get the bus, change two metro lanes and finally wait 1.5 hour in the airport.

As you have probably noticed i have a lot of strange dreams lately. But last night's was even more bizarre than usual. I don't remember the purpose or every little detail but some things were pretty interesting. Apparently i was black and my name was "Devon Alexander". I was sleeping with a half naked Charlize Theron which is peculiar because i don't really like her and i was attending a weird espionage like event/school were i used a hydrogen fueled jet-exosuit. No i don't play CoD: Advanced Warfare.

Next morning i actually googled Devon Alexander. Guess what. He is a black professional boxer. A pretty good one i might add as well. I also played boxing myself. What a strange coincidence i have never heard of that guy before. How dreams work i am so amazed.

I will sleep a bit and continue later because there are more airport stories and i really need the energy for my trip to Finland tomorrow.

--------Short Break---------

Back in action. Why do we always have to overthink? Wouldn't all of our lives be much simpler? Everything has been said and done, let it go. Always looking for answers, if only one. An endless loop every day torturing our minds, from dusk till dawn.

That was what i was thinking during my stay in Athens International Airport. A guy with turquoise pants and glasses approached me during my entrance there and asked me where should he go. I pointed him to the right direction and i printed my boarding pass. Luckily my luggage was not overweight by half a kilo so i proceeded to a cafeteria to drink some overpriced energy drink so i don't fall asleep.

Then i went to exit B26 through the body check and x-rays. Apparently you can't transfer olives because they have liquid. I was pretty sad since we wrapped it up in a great little package for Carita and her family.

I sat in the lobby at my exit gate waiting patiently since i still had 1 hour till boarding. There was a young couple next to me with a cute little baby. The man turns to me and asks me in english if i know where people smoke.

He sounded russian so i told him in his language i don't know and that he has a very pretty little daughter. I wanted to talk more to practice my russian but he did not seem interested. Oh well, it's not like my social skills are fantastic lately.

A middle aged couple and their daughters sat down next to me. I overheard them visiting their niece in Stockholm as she was getting her PhD in Biology. Congratulations! We had a friendly chat as the boarding was delayed a little.

Then i watched half the avengers movie trying not to kill myself from the 5 babies crying everywhere. I was really tired and the poor things were stressed by all the flying, noise and bumping. My luggage took forever to arrive and i saw snow outside waiting for the bus to Uppsala. I felt so drained and incredibly hungry but i managed to hold on until the arrival at the train station. I raced towards the closest Pressbyran to buy some cinnamon buns and i almost ski'd there due to the slippery ice.

Then the man at the cashier took 5 tries to understand that i want a "kanelbulle". Deal with it. I devoured it on the way and crawled to bus number 7 with my oversized bags. And now i am at home. Preparing for my next trip. And the next after it. 14 hours in the car oh the horror! But it's with the greatest company ever so i am also very excited!

Why do people hurt each other? Why does almost every love story end up in ruins? Or even worse. Why can't we all put down our weapons so the other guy inside us doesn't make a mess? We already have a life that is so demanding. Anger will lead to stress and that will lead to pain and loss of health and neurological and mental conditions. We will make it don't worry. Stay happy and keep it real. We will get to that in a future post.

Until then i will leave you with a picture from outside my house. Welcome in Sweden.

Winter is upon us.

Goodnight my friends!

PS. If anyone noticed i incorporated some ads on my blog. They give me revenue simply when you enter my blogpage. YOU DON'T HAVE TO CLICK ON THEM. Thank you!

Road to redemption

Sitting in front of my computer burried 24 inches under the screen i wondered what would my next title. Thinking of what happened yesterday, what will happen tomorrow and the events of the past month.

After i came to Greece for a week of vacations i did what i expected to do. I got a new ID card (finally i look good in a card!), i prepared my bank account so i don't have to rely on others to withdraw my hard earned money and i also got a new passport that will help me be a proper swedish citizen. I will be able to finally get my personnummer.

I also remember my father telling me when i was about to move in Sweden not to tell any of my customers because "Nobody would give a damn about you, they are just customers". However everyone was so happy to see me when i went to work to help him for a couple of days. It did felt good and was some sort of reward for my hard work all those years.

Other than that i will do a recap like the old times.

In Tuesday i went for a haircut in order to look like a proper man again after 3 months and in the afternoon i met my lovely friends Aggeliki, Katerina and Athina for a coffee and to catch up. They also brought another girl i didn't know but between me saying dirty jokes and fighting with her boyfriend she was a social zombie looking at her smartphone for the duration of the night.

I do miss times like these.

Wednesday was casual as well. I slept, i ate, i pretended to study a bit and then i ate some more. In the evening i sat home doing nothing. I watched some champions league and slept some more.

Which brings us into Thursday that looked more like when i was actually living here permanently. I met two Canadian-Greek friends Angie and her sister Fani and my beloved salsa dancing Aggeliki. I was speaking in perfect anglo-greek which led to general confusion and me making a ridiculous amount of silly jokes. During our coffee adventure i also met Niki, an old acquintaince of mine and a very good girl that had lost her precious father's setter doggie last week (more on that later). They had a campaign to inform about AIDS and they left a bunch of DUREX condoms on the table. I got all of them to give them to other friends of mine.

Light the trees please.

The night ended up smoothly with no indication what was about to come on Friday and Saturday. On Friday i went to work again and decided to go for one more coffee with the usual suspects from the other night. After refilling my car and listening to some hideous greek music on the radio it took me 45 minutes to get into town and actually find a place to park my car. Why? Because they closed down the main street so the pedestrians can see the lighting of the christmas tree. Minutes of swearing later i got to the coffee place and started cracking jokes as usual. We ended up eating classic greek Pita and souvlaki from the famous traditional Jimmy's Cantina. If you ever visit Kalamata definately try it. More info here.

Traditional souvlaki and wine.

After that we went to Aggeliki's home and we had some amazing conversations jumping topics like a wild horse ranging from world of warcraft to fat women crying "meow" and little kids having smartphones. We also drank wine that was so bad and old that reminded me when asked my grandma for headache pills and she said "I got some i bought last year" when in fact they were expired since 2001.

Which brings us into Saturday. I woke up multiple times. Once i woke up with bread next to me. Then with kinder bueno. Then with food. Then it was 4 pm and i actually had to get out of bed. Yay for being a lazy bum! I dressed up and went to a greek tavern to eat and drink. Illidan would have told me "You are not prepared".

I sat there sad with a gloomy face waiting for my friends for 30 minutes as they were late. I should call them 'the reliables'...

We started consuming massive amounts of greek food, french fries, real feta and then the wine started coming in. I cracked more jokes than i could remember, everyone was laughing and the band was playing live songs for 3-4 hours. However in the end my friends became so drank i was embarassed. They started swearing and saying stupid things and could barely walk so i left them and sat in the car for 10 minutes to reflect what is going on.

Good times.

And we conclude with today's ride so far. I got a call from Niki who was mentioned earlier and she told me her dog was seen in the beach. I took my car and went to search for her for 2 hours in bushes and streets. We ended up finding her and the poor thing was so thin and shaking after 8 days alone in the wild without food. I felt really happy and i was reminded when Ippu was lost and i wanted to grab the first plane to Finland and search everywhere. It's tough losing a part of your life.

I am also pissed of with my presentation partner. Actually more than that. I send her messages and she reads them but does not reply for a week now. She might have a reason but really i don't care right now. We have to write our presentation report and i am the only one trying. I despise group work in universities sometimes.

I will be out today again and tomorrow and in thursday i will be in Finland to start my amazing trip to the cold north, where dogsleds and frostbite and mooses and reindeers await me. It's going to be great. I also decided i wil ltry to make an effort to have private lessons and continue my russian classes as well as maybe start learning proper swedish this time.

Lastly, because i am a small Clash of Clans addict lately and i am getting my sister's old iphone 4S i might start a mini series here that will serve as a guide to some people.

And this brings me to the last part of this post, which is a continue from last post's dreams section. It was so strange and for me to say this is weird, because i usually see strange dreams. I was swimming in tropical waters being chased by an underwater wooden ship, such as the one in the pirates of the Caribbean. I was almost naked and i was carrying small C4 charges. I had to swim a huge distance and get on top of a real ship that had white structures like real houses. It was occupied by nazis and i had to sneak in there and plant my explosives. I remember seeing every product inside having a hitler mustache, like a bucket full of white paint and a green exterior. What was also interesting is that while i was sneaking through the white corridors two nazis talked to me normally in the beginning, i think because i stole an outfit to blend in. And the exchange was the following in some point:

"You look pretty nervous like you don't want to be here i can see it from your legs it's all about psychology"

"If i wanted to leave you would have seen my feet facing the direction of the door and i would slouch and body rock towards the exit. So don't you try and play the psychology game with me", i replied.

What was even more interesting is that i saw the same dream over and over again 3-4 times. Each time i was caught or captured but the next time i took it a step further.

What could that mean? Anyone has a potential explanation? I would love to hear it! Or you can send me a message or a mail with your dreams and you could future in one of my posts one day.

Until then, Goodnight Sweden!

Visit Kalamata.

Depression - The big scourge of mankind

Dreams.

What do they mean? Could they have a real purpose? Could they show us what we really want to happen? Or could they simply give us food for though, like a little voice in our heads trying to tell us something subconciously?

As i sat down sat today and reflected upon some comments i received on my previous troll post i realized some stuff. You can read about them here. Realizing you have depression is one thing. Admitting you need help and trying to combat it is another.

But let me talk about my dreams some more. I usually have very vivid dream that usually involve adrenaline and action packed scenes. I think it is trying to tell me i need something new. I keep seeing that fuse being lit up in slow motion and the words "ignite" light up like a thousand fireworks turning the sky crimson red.

I also keep seeing that i lose my left hand from the arm and having it replaced with a metallic strong one. What could that mean? I ended up agreeing that something is removed from me and something else is forced on me. Forced but required for me to function normally. That even though i have a metallic arm, i can blend in and disguise it, but i don't fit in completely. Is that the case with me being in Sweden and the people i socialize with daily? It could be. I can blend in, but i always feel like a stranger. Because i laugh, because i am loud, because i am silly and because i am sarcastic.

I don't mind, my goal is different. However i am losing focus to that goal. Today i also realized that my source of pleasure and happiness is also the source of my depression on some extent. Meeting someone that you care for and having him/her in a whole different place is a tough thing. But it's alright.

If by any chance you followed me from the beginning until now you can see the change. Posts of happiness, meaningful, with messages and pictures that depicted a vivid world full of life in Sweden gave their place to gloomy walls of text with no purpose than my own entertainment and i lost a part of me being judgmental. I am better than that. You are all better than that. We are unique in every way and we cannot be replaced. Try to find what makes you unique.

I can see myself now. Surrounded by light, shrouded by darkness. But i am uplifted by the truth. And so will you from now on. Take my hand and we will make it.

Sit down and reassess your life. You are probably in a better position than most people. Think logical. Take me for example. I had a hard life plagued by expectations, work, sadness and pain. Yet i made it. And now i am free, i have a girl i care for and trust her with my life. I am healthy enough, i study something i like, i am in a country that (sadly in a sense) is 100 times better or more forward than my own. I have free will and time to do things i like. Yet i am depressed and i am going through some of the toughest times of my life. Shouldn't i be happy? People starve, people work for scraps and a bowl of leftovers. Yet i have so much and even though i appreciate them i was ready to give up.

Find something you like. Do it. Don't be like me. I spoke about actions not words once yet i fell victim to my own wisdom and words. Act with a capital A. Appreciate the little things. Smile more. Talk to some strangers, help someone, care for animals. Read a book or paint. Talk to a friend. If they actually care for you they will listen. Check in your local university for scholarships or grants to consult with a psychiatrist. Talk to a professional there is no taboo to that. Seek help and you shall be rewarded.

I sit in the bus and i see all those angry faces around me. I am so afraid that could be you and me one day. If you make it this far in this post read it with me loudly. Shout it if you have to:

I will NOT be one of them.

Bulletproof your dreams because this is a long ride. Even at this moment when i feel i have a huge monolith chained on my feet and i feel old and tired i shall not give up. The stress of the economic restraint i have is weighting hard on my shoulders. It's the other cause of my depression as i have limited my exits immensly. I look for constant excuses not to go out. Don't do that. Repetirar efter mig (see how i sneakily added some swedish huh):

I will go out and have fun when time allows me to and i have an opportunity or an invite from someone that i enjoy being around with.

I hope this will serve as a wake up call for some people and maybe gain some trust and faith back from anyone that is left following me here, even anonymous. I should thank "disappointed reader" first of all since he/she made me realize how far from the path i chose i have strayed in such a short time.

Maybe i will try to write some more of my dreams and try to interpret them. Even more lovely it would be if you shared one of yours and wanted my opinion or just your own interpretation of the dream. I would love to read your experiences or how do you battle depression or simply to listen. I am a good listener. And much better than the misanthrope that was depicted in the last post.

Until then, Goodnight everyone from sunny Greece.

You feel a shaking on the ground, a billion candles burn around, is it your birthday?

"Only the unknown frightens men. But once a man has faced the unknown, that terror becomes the known" Antoine De Saint-Exupery.

Fuck you Antoine. Fuck you for being right. And thanks in the same time.

When i walked through that dirty old gate of the army base camp i could not have imagined what was about to follow. I was being plunged into the unknown for 9 months. Yet i was not afraid. I was confident. Over-confident. And that would be my downfall because i underestimated things. I underestimated the fragility of the human soul and the patience one person can have for somebody, even for his/her loved ones.

I left that morning from my home around 6 am with the first bus. I was not afraid, because i would be close to the person i loved. Because no matter what happened, no matter what was thrown at me, i would not bulge, i would not be afraid, i would stand up and keep moving forward.

It was my birthday, 16/11/2012. And 2 years ago in this time of writing, it was the last night i ever slept happy again for a really long time until recently.

I was on the phone with Alexandra all the time until i got to Athens. From there i took the suburban train to the army camp of Avlona, a place where people got their initial training and ended up being tank specialists, marines and scumbags.

During my ride in the train i sat alongside another recruit. We didn't talk because i didn't care. In the next stop a 60 year old lady sat next to us and started talking. She asked us if we are new and about our lives and everything. I told her i love my girl and that i am joining the special forces army so i can be close to her.

Then i asked her where is she going. With a soothing calm voice she replied, but i could sense something is wrong. She was going to the cemetery to visit her older daughter, that died 5 years ago. She died from leukemia. She was very close to her younger sister, who could not withstand the loss of her beloved sister and had a heart failure 1 year later. She was 24 years old.

Her husband died 15 years ago from a stroke. So her daily life was to visit 2 cemeteries every day to pay her respects to everyone she ever loved. That is how i actually felt when my relationship ended. Like black death enveloped me and shrouded me for a long time. I will never forget this woman.

So i entered the army camp, where hundreds of new recruits were being enlisted by low-life thugs pretending to be of service to this glorious country. 75% of them were uneducated nobody's that managed to crawl their ways into that position and pretend they are men of importance while they are a hair of my left testicle.

We entered a ridiculously dirty room where they divided us in lines and they took our basic information as well as our civilian identities. I would not see it again for 9 months.

When my turn arrived the officer looked at my id, then at me. He actually used to date my cousin some years ago. She said he was an asshole. Well at least he treated me well. Fuck you nonetheless.

Then they gathered us like cattle in the yard where we had the chance to meet other recruits. I met a very feminine hairstylist without hair and a colossal tall man that smoked 37 cigarettes in 2 hours. The only thing i remember from him is a horrible imitation of "Gangam Style".

During that time i was on the phone with Alexandra, try to keep my cool, saying that it doesn't look so bad, that i will be alright. 2 hours in the sun later they sent us for tests. Blood tests, eyesight, any injuries etc.

They told us they would go in very soon so i kept calling her every 5 minutes. It must have been frustrating but i was oblivious to that fact. Silly me, ungrateful her.

Then they gave us uniforms and those horrible boots that have destroyed my ankles, feet and knees.

Finally around 22:00 we got sent to our bunkers, those filthy disgusting places with another 19 idiots to share the place for 24 days. We are talking of assholes of every quality. From farting, burping idiots, to pathological liars, to super-Mario looking plumbers, to golden dawn shaved head supporters and backstabbers.

I didn't care, because i had my girl right on the palm of my hand. Or so i thought so. Then i went to sleep. For the last time happy until i met Carita.

Goodnight Sweden, happy birthday to me.

66 grams of salad

Last week we were talking in class about weathering. It seemed important, as well as it's effects in the climate and the planet. We spent 4 hours talking about it and i was nodding each time the professor looked at me. I understood the context but not the term itself.

Today it was Monday and i finally understood what weathering is. I was riding Marley along with Jaime towards university. I saw wind, raid, blood and thunder outside. I wore two sweaters, a jacket, a scarf, 2 pairs of socks, pants and jeans. Welcome to Sweden.

So what is weathering? It's the effects of weather on something, like the natural disasters hitting me while i ride Marley from all directions while i wander aimlessly into the cold abyss. Let's make a quick recap:

• Rain
• Wind from the opposite direction.
• Fog
• Cold
• Marley
• Lack of sunlight
• 4 hours of lectures.

So we finally made it there, i bought a small sandwich and we started talking about the biosphere and marine ecosystems. I actually like this kind of stuff since it's my field of studies. The presentation was pretty interesting and i was concentrated. The professor was pretty cool, funny in the right amount and kept things interesting. The only blip was Holger, who made a triumph return after losing his almost all of his possessions. Again. He was yawning every 1 minute and i wanted to bash him on the head with his daughter.

So after 3 breaks, 5 Clash of Clans raids i biked with Jaime home and slept for 4-5 hours. I woke up and studied a bit, finished a report i had and then Despoina opened Pandora's box when we started sending epic fail videos from youtube. Oh the urban legend Mat... is preparing a fika on Wednesday with 30 people. 32 of them will be girls i guess.

My princess sent me a goodnight message that made me pretty happy.

"Oyyy u are a little genius always have time for everything", some of her words.

"I always find time for the people i care", my reply.

"I care too!", her response was enough to make me hug the pillow like it's her instead and sleep happy.

But but but? What about Saturday and Sunday???

I spent Sunday sleeping, studying and talking. My landlord's daughter visited with her husband and her two kids. Her name is marie-anne, like my sister. We had some coffee all together along with the PhD student, Davide. We discussed topics ranging from Greece, olives, Italy, Sweden, broken teeth, boxing, football, Zlatan, infidelity and dating sites, which seem to be the norm here. I will explore happypancake.com because of it's fantastic name :D

What about Saturday then? I just went to Willy's to buy stuff with Davide. We raided the supermarket, because naming a supermarket after male genitalia is good. I got cheese, bread, cola, wannabe greek yogurt with honey and two apples.

So we set up a meeting at around 8:30 with Vassilis, Despoina and Dimitris. They arrive at 8:30, i arrive at 8:49, while Dimitris takes his time and arrives around 21:10.

We have a blast speaking about random crap, talking about salads and friends and beer and loads of mumbo jumbo. And then i turn around and she a small cute lady with fantastic curly black hair. It's A-nude! Long time no see! I say hi, she has no clue who i am. I remove my glasses. Oh Kostas!

She sits with us and she brought Matias too. We spend the night teaching her bad greek words while she transforms my name into a bad one of her own. She asks me to save her before she leaves, but i can't just let the others go. She will be fine, otherwise no hugs!

The predator tried to attack Despoina too, but she looked like a wooden stick, stiff and probably feeling frightened. Good job man. Oh there was a guy with no socks little shoes and sort of a bag and a brownish tuxedo behind.

Vassilis was downing beers in a rate that america drops bombs in syria or compared to the how fast politicians eat our money in greece.

So it's time to leave and Vassilis stays with 4 random Swedes who ask why we are leaving. Guess why, to drink more beer!

So I am stuck here trying to sleep, thinking about how this month went so far. I like Sweden. I don't regret. In fact, i give you the Golden Recommendation of Kostas to come and study here. You see through my eyes how it is to party wildly, to study a lot, to do countless activities and embark on different adventures and travels. To be serious and silly. I actually received a message and a friend request by a greek who has been living here for a year and he said that i have captured the essence and the spirit of living here well. Thank you George Bliatsios!

Along with that bombshell, Goodnight Sweden!

You left footprints all along the beaches of my heart..

It's the middle of the week and i am briefly home for 1.5 hours.

Thousands of thoughts move like a whirlwind and consume my mind each moment. I should do some yoga and sign up for boxing again to relieve some stress.

I got a new bike, i am picking it up tomorrow, for 500 crowns. I hope it does not fall apart.

I woke up a bit tired, my eye was hurting from the contact lenses and i ate all my chips. I casually prepared and sent some Colombian coffee love to my bestie. I fired up my favorite song and sang along the way to the bus stop. I should give it a name.

I will call it the "Hidden Passenger", no idea why. Maybe because i am a passenger of this strange train of multi-culture in the area i live.

Oh, for the very few that actually read what i wrote yesterday and the even fewer that actually cared to do it, thank you very much. Amy (<3), Danika, Harmeet, Kevin, Fani, all of you in the chatroom i will be there for you if you need me. Same applies to the rest actually, i am here for everyone. No need to mention Afroditi, and my wonderful παντρουγκιτσες from Greece that miss me and give me strength to continue!

That includes you, the lady that left footprints all along the beaches of my heart over the past week :)

From 10-12, then 13:00-15:00 i had lectures about fluid and ocean dynamics. The terms in english, vastly different from the ones i am used to. But it's alright, i always manage to get out of the bottom of the barrel.

We organized to meet with Fabian from Chile to grab some beers from the store and head towards Flogsta for a pre-drink party in Evelina's house around 7pm.

I walked to the center to register for Norrlands and of course the internet was broken so i had to waiting drinking some black coffee while the Asians drank milk. I paid 280 crowns for the register, got my temp card and headed out to buy ice cream for 18 crowns.

Which should i get....

It's a beautiful day, full of sunlight and warm feelings, much better than yesterday.

I am sitting in the bus station at Stora Torget. I am listening to some melodic death and the guy sitting next to me is moving to the drum rhythm. I get in the bus and i sit somewhere in the back.

A woman with her head covered by traditional arabic/muslim band sits across me. I can only see her face. She is smiling all the time, she has perfect, untouched velvet skin, a bit darkish and incredible features, that leave me staring at her for 15 minutes. She saw me of course, i am not that discreet when i like something. It was like she featured in the National Geographic magazine.

I am home. I am cooking some weird delicious mix of pasta, creme du lait and chicken. Pounding them.

The lady downstairs is making some creepy ghost noises. If you don't hear from me, come film Paranormal Activity 26, at least you will make some money!

Hello Sweden!

30 minutes in the rain

Tuesday 26 August 2014

Waking up from last night, i checked out if i was at the right place or the right bed. I expected to be in a worse shape but i picked up my pieces quite fast. I'm impressed with my self. I would regain my composure and be a good boy tonight.

Yea right.

But let cut to the chase and start over. New day, new plans, new party.

So. It's like 11pm and i need to be at the Geocentrum. I take my trusty number 7 bus and stop at the Blasenhus, which is pretty much the Uppsala University main science/engineering campus. I see a map sign that shows the location of the centrum, trying to decode it because i'm slow in the morning.

Oh wait, two people are coming my way. Let's stop them because it's raining and i like to get wet.

"Do you know where the geocentrum is?"

"No! Do you know where is the department for nordic languages?"

"No, bye!"

So i keep moving and i ask some worker with a bald head like a globe, he points me to the wrong direction. Tack. I then see and older man that tells me where the correct building is but sends me to the wrong entrance. Tack. So i do a 200 meter walk around until i finally get to the correct way.

Oh wait! I see someone. He is with 2 others. He wears a checkered shirt, jeans and has a beard. He is Greek so i say "Geia sou!" and i met Yannis, a PhD student that takes me to the entrance.

Speechless.

So i enter the premises with some automatic doors opening while i walk. I felt like David Coperfield. I enter the room Norrlands 1 and meet my new colleagues. We are two greeks, spreading like a virus. I met the program helper Aby and the program coordinator Susanne. We did the basic stuff, i registered for my program, asked all the questions i had and received my welcome package.

I ate a nice sandwich with something that resembled greek feta. We were briefed on the campus's training facilities 1477 and the student mental support group. There was also a brief intro about Grus and Unt.

Then we divided in 4 groups or so and we had a short tour of the facilities, which are frankly, amazing. Massive library, clean places, microwaves and kitchen, study rooms that you can book to study quietly, 3 computer room and a biology lab, as well as 5-6 lecture rooms.

We have some students from Sweden following up from their batchelor's, one with a scholarship from Ethiopia, Ezre, Kate from the Netherlands, Kostas and Yannis from Greece, Lena from Germany, Stephanie from the USA, etc.

During our first meet.

We set up a meeting in Thursday @ 8:50 outside the faculty building for a bus tour/excursion and we went to the printing shop to get our student access. It was me, Alex and one more from Iceland. He got is access and then i went home like a sad panda because i am stupid and i did not have my driver's license with me so we could not complete, more or less start the register. Tack.

So i'm going back home, it's raining slightly and i am listening to some soothing drums and bass. I get on the bus with a weird granpa holding eggs like it's the precious one ring.

Oh i am so relaxed on my bed, talking to my buddy Kelly from Stockholm. I tell her dirty and stupid jokes and she laughs maniacally.

I get a message from Vita, my russian angel. The time is 5:44 and we set up a meeting at 6:15. The bus is leaving at 5:50 and i want to be there fast so i see her more...I forgot my umbrella, my ipad, my phone, my mind. I was not even sure of the nation i had to be at...So i found the Gotlands Nation where they had a crash course about sweden. It sucked because it lasted 10 minutes and they only asked 5 questions. I am outside speaking to some random dude and Maria from Ukraine.

She is nowhere to be seen. The time is 6:35. I see Roland and Anoud (A-nude. muahahaha). He sends a message for me to Vita in hope she sees it. I am off to the Gotlands pub which has a massive queue and i talk to James, a tall dude that works in the nation. And then Vita enters with Jose from Spain/USA. Everytime i look at her my heart stands still and so does time and space. I greet her warmly. She smells so nice and is so sweet. I play the sad panda face because she is late and we pretty much met by luck there.

Time to go to Norrlands pub. We sit there inside and we see Dimitris with his buddy program. We have some fun and i keep teasing Vita because i love her laugh and beaming smile. She makes me want to smile too. So we need some action and we talk to two random guys next to us. One is called Henrick (me thinks) and his half-swedish, half-greek (!) friend Andreas. We had the best of times, they actually bought us beers and we stayed there for 3-4 hours. It was amazing. I loved the part where they said that we make a nice couple ("blush mode on").

Dimitris, Jose, Henrich, Andreas and Vita.

So that was it, a fairly quieter night that the previous one, but get ready, because the storm is coming. Tomorrow is the Welcome Ceremony!

Welcome in Uppsala.

Welcome to the future, today

“Welcome to the future, today.”

He had just landed on the big stage, flying on his Exo-Suit, in front of a thousand people. They all had gathered around to watch the invention that would “redefine humanity”. The tech that would change the lives of many, improve, sustain, develop.

Yet he casually flew down. It was like riding his bike to school or just walking subconsciously towards home sweet home. As he walked down the wooden floor, the suit started to retract, while the thrusters and the mechanical palms fumed from the tantalizing heat.

First the arms, retracting behind his back, showing off his skinny hands and glimpses of an expensive tailor made black suit. Then the legs and the waist support, looking so fluid as they turned into a solid mass of metal behind his back, resembling a metallic suitcase that glowed bright red.

He looked at the audience with eyes wide open, a strong glare and determination that could pierce through the strongest of spirits. Project Hercules was born.

“Today we are showing off Project Hercules, a device that will change the shape of humanity.”

“Made from carbon fiber, enriched with crystal titanium and carbon carbon, it has immense potential.”

“Actions speak louder than words, so let me demonstrate instead, rather than showing you a interesting presentation that satisfies only lust and fantasy.”

His words echoed like a grenade in the room. He was brimming with confidence and they could tell.

He was holding 3 small silver balls in his hands, in the shape of a small nut. He played with them for a few seconds, then threw them to the ground.

They stuck on each other, and then the suit started to power on again. It looked like a robot, with legs firmly rooted on the ground and arms streched open, with a gaping hole in the middle. It was big enough for a human to get inside and be engulfed from steel and thunder.

He got inside. The arms closed. The legs too. The chest was barely visible after the pieces were bolted automatically, while a light blue glass covered his eyes. The disk on his back glowed green, it looked like a spinal cord made of bright green liquid.

“Maximum strength!”, he said with a booming voice.

The disk on his back spinned to the right, turning into dark passion red. He looked bulked up, like the god of war ready to unleash fury on his opponents. The screws and the metallic ropes tightened when he turned his attention to a small car that was hiding in the scene. Just a little everyday car from the 70’s, with sticky plastic seats, no air-conditioning, a coughing engine and a windshield battered from the air and rain.

He grabs the car from beneath. Then, to the amazement of everyone in the room he just picks it up like a toy and lifts it up above his head.

“Titanic Strength. Similar to how Atlas of the Greek Mythology was holding the world on his shoulders, you can have immense strength with Project Hercules, making the hardest of tasks a simple everyday deed.”

Whispers amongst the shadows, small talk and discussion between the audience. Amazement and fear in the atmosphere, you could smell it in the air, like the scent that’s left after the storm.

Everything is going according to plan. He is there, in front of all those people, feeling confident, with a car hovering above his head, light as a balloon.

What is going on? The scenery is fading. The walls crumble like paper, being blown away by the wind like ashes, the clear faces of the people around being turned into faceless voids, his feet trembling beneath the burden of reality, his hands shaking from the problems of humanity. He looks up and knows this is the time. It’s his harajuku moment. 

He falls on his knees. There is no strength here. He is losing the signal. The car starts to drop down on his head, sulking him into the abyss.

He wakes up sweaty, with a shiver sent up his spine, hearing a horrible noise, like a ticking bomb. There’s no suit to protect him, nothing to cure him off the headache and the pain that will follow up. He is no hero, no mastermind, no evil genius to take the world by storm. Yet…

The sound is the alarm clock, the headache is his father’s voice calling him for work, his sheets on the floor, leaving him vulnerable.

Reluctantly he picks up his glasses. He slams the clock. He wears a beat down white shirt with holes that used to be yellow, a pair of jeans and his trusty old destroyed sneakers. He coughs and leaves a breath, equal to the sounds of a thousand dead whispering their problems through the air. He stands up and heads to the exit door.

Snap back to reality Kostas. It’s time to go to work.

Welcome to Greece Kostas. 5 more days.