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.

Confessions of a cuckold

"I hate you for what you are doing to me, i hate you."

A flash of light from the dying lamp, diving. Faster than the eye can follow. Screams from the captain to get into bed or punishments will follow.

She replies. "I feel nothing for you after what you said. Goodnight i am with my friend."

An overwhelming tidal wave of emotions hits him, crushing like the sea on the rocks. Like a massive rollercoaster, from pain, to agony, to crying. And then nothing. Plunged into the abyss, feeling empty, like death had come to reap the souls of the once cheerful people of a village pillaged by war and decay.

Phonecall ends. He stands, looming hopelessly. No purpose, no cause. He is disconnected from the world. Hundreds of soldiers around him running to their bunkbeds, cheerful after sharing a laughter on the night gathering. He feels this is the end, after all, he has lost everything.

After 5 years of giving his heart and soul, his empire crumbles down like paper hit by a tornado. He knows he is alone for 9 more months. In one moment, he lost his soon-to-be wife, his dog, his family, and sadly, his only friend. Her.

By then he had only suspisions, not concrete evidence. But soon lady luck smiled on him, giving him a Pyrrhic victory. Alyx forgot her facebook logged in in his cellphone back in that unforgetable summer they spent together. And he was unfortunate enough to read everything. He would propose in 17 days, when he was released from the training camp. That was the only time she cried before the face to face breakup happened in December 8th, 2012.

"What am i going to do with the ring now?" he sobbed, trying to conceal his pain and suffering from the rest of the soldiers.

"What ring??" She was oblivious, she never saw it coming.

"I would have asked you to marry me stupid bitch, why couldn't you wait 17 more days?"

Silence, then sounds of a woman crying. It's comforting that it felt like she believed it.

Tough months followed. but the first two were the hardest by far. Pain, suffering, lies and persistance to get her back. Only mistakes were made. And now, one and a half year on, he cannot forget. But he has made his choices, and she paid her previous ones.

Stumbling upon a book called "The Game, by Neil Strauss", refueled him with pathos and passion for life and the excitement he lacked. Again he had a purpose. He needed to get back in the dating game, or so he thought. He thought that that purpose was solely to be able to "game" every women he craved. But there was something lurking behind that. Something that it secretly grew and spreaded like a virus untill it became crystal clear. He was not there to pick up women. He was there to lead men, to become social, the heart and soul of each company, to entertain people and to fulfill his ambitions.

Fast forward 17th April 2014. In 4 months he is leaving for Sweden. He has the best friends he could ask for, whom he met through his own volition. He is happy and on course to achieve his life goals. Gliding, probbing forward.

Thank you Aggeliki, Venia, Vicky, Mairy, Biktoria and Sakis for being part of my life. Special thanks go to Yiannis and Nicky, who let me be part of their company.

Being revengful bears no fruit apart from personal satisfaction, and this comes from a scorpio. Being dumped on Valentine's day is a good enough revenge of it's own. Life's a bitch, and a wheel that keeps spinning.

 Oh yes.