Posts

Showing posts from April, 2013

Today i'm 25, and I miss my mum

Image
My mother didn't know if she would make it till my birthday. She has. She's here, I had a 'birthday' coffee with her by her bedside this morning. I'm heading back there now to hold her hand and feel her warmth. Twenty five years ago, she was giving birth to me! She will never truly know the gift she gave me today, which I will carry my whole life.


Life is not all fun and games.

Image
Life is not all fun and games. It's not all spintops and lollipops and lazy Sunday mornings.

Sometimes you gotta be a child in an adult world.

Or a woman in a man's world.

Or a god in a human world.

Or love in a meaningless world.

Sometimes you gotta live and sometimes you gotta die.
Life is not all fun and games.

An attempt to look at the bright side

Read my rather nostalgic article on the garden birds of spring at the BirdLife Cyprus website here. It's also available in Greek on the Greek version of the website under the news section.
Ofcourse I have been 'trapped' in the office or hospital room for the past couple months so I didn't get the chance to see the transformation of nature into a spring boom! this year. But I still dream and write about it so that maybe some of you will be inspired to go out there - Go...GO! GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!! Appreciate the sweet weather and beautiful smells and colours for me...while they last.
I made the love of my life promise me he'd take me cloud-watching when he comes. Just lying on our backs somewhere making up stories, watching the sky, being lazy! Now I'm waiting for that day like a schoolkid waiting for summer - oh boy clouds here I come!

Let's all take a break from reality...

...and listen to the coolest DJ in Cyprus for a while


*DJ Magos* by %U03a0%U0391%U03c1%U03ac%U03b4%U03b9%U03bf on Mixcloud

These weeks

This hospital room has become our house.
They gave us a bed, a chair and two cupboards for your things.
A curtain separates us from the patient next door
and her relatives,
who crowd her space and encroach ours
speaking about daily things with loud voices.

I have to be angry at someone
so I’m angry at them.
They exaggerate about the symptoms,
wail and cry over a little fever,
pray loudly to their god
while passing around fried potatoes and
pastries from the bakery,
pace up and down in our room
With megatons of fat on their asses
a family of obese, loud, obnoxious elephants
from the village.
They talk about the crisis, their kids, gossip,
and expect me to feel sorry for them and their daughter
recovering from a surgery.

I’m angry at them, I’m furious, because they don’t understand,
they don’t respect
the severity of our situation,
the seriousness of impending death:
Their daughter WILL get better.
She WILL go home.

For us, even this hope is strained
and unpalpable.

This hospital r…