About Goodbyes...

     Such a profound and much said cliche. We've heard it so many times in the movies. "I hate goodbyes" or "I was never good at goodbyes". I would call it an irony myself. How can it be called "good-bye" when in most of the cases it is not "good" at all. Yet it is said so often. More often than it should be. In every day life we say goodbyes many times. Leaving from work, leaving the house, leaving the neighborhood. What is bothering my mind in this article though is the other way of saying goodbye. It's the goodbye used as a means of decision. The goodbye which brings an end to a situation. There is one common factor in goodbyes. Their severity and impact is variably dependent from the impact the "hellos" had in us in the first place.
     
     Either being a person or a situation, a goodbye means the end of something. The end of an era. The dark side of it means that you have to say goodbye to a happy or pleasant situation (let's face it, we never say goodbye when after a fight we leave the house furious banging the door behind us). It means that we have to forget, or at least make confront without these pleasant situations in the future. The goodbye is a final decision. A turning point. Good or bad a goodbye is usually the final frontier. It seems normal. But in retrospect it's hard for me to remember many times being said goodbye. And it's funny cause I've been abandoned many times in my whole life. Probably that's the downslide of a goodbye. The fact that it is final. Maybe it is in the human nature not to take terminal decisions. Maybe that's why we are not easily saying goodbye. Cause in the end, in our minds (and I guess only in there), we leave a tiny window open for reconciliation. True, goodbyes are bad like I said. But sometimes they are also needed. It has always been better to say goodbye and kill each doubt in the minds of others, than let them hanging from that thin thread of hope. Hah. A return from a final goodbye will always remain sweeter. Also true is that there are cases (most of the time) where there is no turning back from a goodbye. That's the whole purpose of it after all. The worst kind of goodbyes though is the ones never said with words, but meant on the inside, and experienced even deeper inside. The ones where separation is indeed final, but there is no words to justify it. In other words the silent deep hurting goodbyes.

     Strange as it may seem, there is also a bright side in goodbyes. Apart from signaling an end, a goodbye can also mean a new beginning. Likewise, as much we humans need the goodbyes, that much we also need the new beginnings. It would be impossible to start all over again if we did not have the power to goodbye the old situations. And it would surely be awkward too. Starting over and over new things and experiences without ending the previous. Without waving goodbye to the bad (or good) memories. 
   
     It really reminds me the circle of day and night. None can live while the other is still thriving. Yet if one the the two ruled completely then life would really be boring and strange. Goodbyes are like the day and night. Sometimes you have to say them and move on. Sometimes you have to hold back and reconsider. After all there is always the dawn and the sunset, where day and night become one!!!!

Who's the luckier of all???

     One night the caravan stopped for rest on a small city somewhere in the mountains. It was the caravan of a moving circus which would perform every week in a different city. It was dark and cold so everybody gathered around the bonfire, to drink and get warmer. They had been together for a lifetime,working in this circus for almost their whole life. No body was really in the mood for talking because of their journey the past three days. The sound of the crackling fire was the only sound that broke the silence all over the camp. 


     - "I wonder who is the luckiest of you famous performers" said one of the carriers. - "I believe the animal trainer is the luckiest of you".


     - "Sure I get to work with animals. But animals are my friends. The tigers and the lions are not beasts as most of you think. I hate to treat them like I do. I have to whip them to make them obey. I have to let them starving for days for them to behave. I have to imprison them and treat them unfairly every week when we are on stage and perform. I am not happy doing my job, by bringing pain to the animals who have been my companions for so long", said the animal tamer.

     - "Then the acrobat is the luckiest of you. People always admire him with awe", said the same carrier.                                                                    


     - "People often admire my acrobatic skills. They like the sense of danger. And I give them what they need when I am hanging 20 meters over the ground, doing my acrobatics.  But my whole body is strained. I have to train hard 3 hours per day just for a 20 minute show per week. My bones are sore, and my muscles so tensed that could anytime collapse. And above all, despite the applause in the end, I fear each and every show simply because if I lose my concentration for a minute I will fall to my death. No, I am not lucky. I am terrified of each performance", said sadly the acrobat. 


     - "Then the magician is the luckiest of you all. He makes all those tricks with his hands",said once again the carrier.


     - "People are thrilled by my tricks. They believe that I am a real magician. They applause me or get scared of me. But the truth is that I am simply an illusionist. I deceive people, by using tricks not impossible or unachievable. I only use tricks that are hard to comprehend.  Tricks that the eye can't see. On the inside I am nothing more than an impostor who tricks the audience to believe what it wants to believe. I might seem glamorous and wise on the outside, but on the inside I am as insecure as everybody else, and sometimes even more than that.", said the illusionist.


     - "Then the clown must be the luckiest of you all. He is always smiling, even now that we don't perform", said happily the carrier like he had finally found his answer.

     - "You can see me act abnormally. I play with balls. I tumble over and fall. I wear those colorful clothes, that red nose and that oversized shoes. I make children laugh. I even make adults laugh with my clumsy ways. You see me smile all the time. Do you think it's easy. I am human, and I don't laugh all the time. But I have to pretend the smiley person, even when inside me I cry like a little child. And my smile is not true. I am sad. I am unhappy inside. I have problems but no one can or wants to see them. Cause I wear make up. I wear that big long smile on my face, just to hide the pain that roams inside me", said with a sigh of pain.                                                                     


     - "This can't be the truth. You can't all of you be unhappy. You are all top performers. Everybody attends the circus only to see you. I am only a carrier. I carry things around so that you can do your tricks. I work all day for the stage to be ready, and when you perform instead of relaxing I stay behind the stage and admire you. You can't be unhappy!!!", said the carrier with despaired voice.


     - "I AM THE LUCKIER OF THEM ALL", said a voice. The sound was coming from a dark corner. A man had been waiting in the shadows for so long, listening to their conversation. But nobody had noticed of his presence. The man stepped forward, so his wrinkled face was lit by the burning fire. It was the manager of the circus. He was the owner, the responsible for the financial, the one who took care of the next show. But he was like a shadow. He didn't often appear in public. He refrained from any social interaction. He spend most of his time in his own wagon locked away from the rest of the circus and the world. He gazed at all the faces of those gathered around that fire and began telling a story with a strange disappointment in his look.


     - "20 years ago when my wife died, I was devastated. I was broken and despaired. I was a directing manager of a company back then. I am sure nobody of you knew that. I had money and a great career ahead. But life took away from me the only thing that money will never buy. Life took away the most precious thing I had. My wife died of a decease which could not be healed, despite the fact that I visited the most famous doctors. It was meant to happen this way. Losing her, left me with no more desire to live anymore. So I quit my job. I sold my house and my valuables, and with all the money I had I bought this circus. I wanted to give to the people and the children of the world what was violently taken from me. I wanted to give them joy and smile, even when I knew that those two would fade by the time the passed the exit door. All of you have been together with me for 20 years. I have barely spoken with most of you. You think of me as a stranger, but I secretly watch and admire each of your performance. You have been a family to me all those years. You have been friends,children,family and colleagues to me. You never complain about your hardships. You never asked for a raise even though what I pay you is not much. You never abandoned my circus even when you were given the chance to work in bigger and better ones. You have grown old, and I have grown even older You spent 20 years of your precious youth in my circus. And no matter how hard the circumstances were you always stood for my circus. Not my circus anymore. This is and always be OUR circus. I told you before. I AM THE LUCKIEST OF YOU ALL. Because I have you all with me"...


     
The manager's eyes were filled with tears. He hugged separately every single one of his "colleagues" and got lost into the shadows, mysteriously, just like he had appeared.

The Butterfly................Effect!!!!

     I am amazed by the fact that I even remember this incident. Sometimes, the most puny and insignificant things are preserved in our memories just like prehistoric mosquitos remain perfectly untouched inside amber. Actually some things are meant to be remembered by us. Some things come to us, and stay in our memories cause they are important for reasons we can't predict beforehand. If only we could have our eyes open to all those little things, then we'd find a road to greatness. It's been exactly a year. I remember it though like it was yesterday.


    I was broken, by a very sad situation. I used to spend my whole day outside on our porch. I was listening  to music, writing down on my laptop, gazing the stars, writing lyrics and songs with my guitar,admiring the great view of the nature beyond our porch. Above all I was drown in a strange mixture of sorrow with disappointment and indifference . 2-3 nights I got totally drunk only to find out that getting drunk serves nothing. This kept happening for 2 whole months. Work in the morning and then spending time on that porch until 4 in the morning (insomnia was firstly introduced to me that period and became such a great friend until today). Sometimes my mind would wonder for hours (literally), only to return back to my body for material reasons. At the time, I would question everyone and everything. I was searching for logical answers to questions that were illogical by nature. I wanted to understand the reasons of the pain I felt, and I was trying to figure out ways to escape. But no one can escape the inevitable even if he can see it coming.

     It was 10 in the morning. For another night I had slept only for three hours. I had seen the dawn from the window of my room at 7 the same night. I had a day off from work. So I would naturally sleep until the time I had decided to wake up. Not that day though. Outside my window there was a heavy storm taking place. The raindrops would furiously hit the glass of my window. And the wind was viciously blowing outside making it impossible for me to sleep any more. So, since I was used to small portions of sleep per day, I decided to stand up. I walked to my computer, chose a collection of soothing and relaxing ambient music and turned the volume to the max. At the time nobody was at home so no one would be disturbed. The music could be heard all over the house. Since I was rudely awaken I needed some coffee. I prepared myself a glass of strong coffee (Greek Frappe rules) to overcome the absence of sleep and walked outside to our porch. No logical man would stay outside while a storm was on it's peak. I was no ordinary nor a reasonable man those days.


     I silently admired the storm for long. I enjoyed the lightnings which would give light to the moody colors of the clouds. I let the rain touch me. I was protected under that porch, but when the wind changed direction, many raindrops would soak me. And I loved it. Under that situation I realized one thing. Everybody is afraid of the rain. We will do anything to hide when it starts to rain. From raincoats and umbrellas to locking ourselves under a roof so that no water can touch us. Strangely, nature acts the same way too. When the storms begin all the creatures are hidden. No bugs or insects. No cats or dogs. No birds or any other creature will step outside its' nest when it is raining. And those unlucky to be forgotten outside they search for shelter as soon as possible. Rain brings panic even to nature and it surely empties the cities and the fields and mountains. Yeah. Rain. The reason for universal brotherhood.


     The fact that I had been staring at a rainy scenery for some time had allowed my troubled mind to wonder off to some positive and beautiful thoughts. But those thoughts were interrupted by a strange image.I escaped that optimistic trance when something passed before of my eyes. I had to focus on a small flying object. That little thing was gliding through the air. It was maneuvering between the thick raindrops, without it being very successful in doing it though. It had not gone far. I stood up and reached for it. I was flying back and forth my previous and my current position. It was a butterfly. An astonishingly beautifully mesmerizing butterfly. It was quite bigger thanthe ones I used to see around. All I could see were its' colored wings. Like someone had mixed some colors on a canvas. In fact not even a professional painter would be able to find such a proportionally correct balance in the colors. A perfect circle was painted in each of those paper thin wings. The circles had a light blue color while the rest of the wings were coated with a bright yellow shade. The were also some spots and lines all over the wings, in red and green. For the first time in my life I had noticed that although the paintings in each butterfly are different, on the same butterfly those paintings are completely identical to both wings.


     The poor little creature kept on flying forward and backwards. I was standing in the middle of our yard. Soaked to the bone from the rain, watching a butterfly suffering from the pouring rain. I thought of capturing her and providing shelter for it until the storm faded. But I could not do it. Such a beautiful creation should never be captured, not even for a single second. After all the life span of a butterfly is limited, and captivity is not a proper way to live that short life. Funnily it would not abandon the area and me. I was waiting for it to fly away so that I would take my turn to get in the house. It continued repeatedly flying the same route. I had made a pact with myself not to leave until the butterfly left first. It seemed that the same pact had be made from both sides cause it would not abandon me too. I was a human. The worst that could happen to me was a cold. But for the butterfly it was a struggle for survival. It could be swept away by the wind at any given moment.  Or dragged down by the rain or collapse under the weight of its' wet wings.

     Since the creature was stubborn enough to risk it's existence just to fulfill my pact, I stood there in the middle of the a rainstorm trying not to move much so that I would not scare it away. Thankfully there was no one around to see me standing in the rain. I would surely be "advised" if not ordered, to walk inside the house, not to catch a cold or even worse pneumonia. I would not do it,as long as I had a partner doing the same for me. Inevitably I got to notice more about that newly made friend. It was flapping its' wings continuously but it did not move fast. In fact it would take much effort from it to move just 1-2 meters. It would sometimes go higher just to dive back again. It would be moved aside by wind and then it would require double the energy and time to return back to it's starting point. And that movement of the wings was a desperation. No rhythm. They would randomly go up and down just to maintain the balance. I remembered how elegantly the birds fly. From the eagle and the hawk to the little canary and the sparrow, all the birds fly like pros. They can glide high and dive fast with surgical precision. I remembered the anatomy of the birds. Feathers and a tail for orientation and aerodynamic shape. Light body and hollow bones so that they can be as light as possible. But this butterfly, which was fighting to barely move forward had none of these. It only had some big wings shaped in a non flight friendly shape. There were no muscles or bones. Just a clumsy little bulk of beauty. That tiny creature was not born to fly. That was for sure. It was born to present it's beauty. Where birds could present their flying skills, it could easily land on a branch and be admired from the whole animal kingdom for it's breathtaking beauty. But it did not choose this way of living. Where all the birds were hidden due to the severity of the storm, that creature with the pitiful way of flying, was trying to survive. It could have been waiting in the safety of a dry place. Only the butterfly knew the reasons for what it was attempting, nevertheless it was still daring something which in other cases would had been a suicide.


      Time had flown so quickly. I had already lost the sense of time being charmed and at the same time sympathized by the butterfly's abnormal behavior. Rain would not even bother me anymore. I got used to the feeling of the blessing called rain. I was deeply intrigued by that brave butterfly. Much more than I had been intrigued by human behaviors that period. Usually we see those "bugs" flying over green fields and rolling rivers. Over fantastically created sceneries and mind blowing landscapes. The ideal of a butterfly was lying in the fact that it was flying beside me, inside an environment unfriendly even for a "mighty" human. I followed again the lifeline of my pet-friend. It was possible that it had learned to fly not many days before, due to their short lives. It could have even learned to fly the very same day it was risking its' life staying with me. Self sufficient and beautiful creature. That beauty. It was a product of one of the most mysterious transformations in nature. A disgusting caterpillar (in most cases), becomes an attracting colorful butterfly. But the "metamorphosis" of the butterfly is not only happening for admiration. A caterpillar is nothing more than slow moving, ugly earthworm. Its' only purpose is feeding and survival. Yet that "useless" bug ends up begetting wings, and the ability to fly. Also it becomes a subject for jealousy (if ever animals could have human emotions) between the other insects and  animals.


      I thought that me and my friend would go on for ages playing with each others desire for company. But as suddenly as that small rascal had entered my life, that quickly it was lost. Like it had found some secret energy inside it, it flew away. It got mixed with the scenery and soon was out of my sight. It reminded me of human interactions. They never last. Cause there is always someone who tries for the best of both, and someone who abandons you for "his" best. At least it wasn't me who was an oath breaker. How could it be possible?? I felt the feeling of desertion. I was left alone by a butterfly and I felt lonely. The truth is that I had always been lonely. It was the company of that flying friend that forced me to forget that. I was still getting pounded by raindrops. Little did I care anymore. I did not abandon my post. I sat down on the ground, trying to win myself back. The encounter with the butterfly left me thinking again. For a strange reason I found my self mirrored in the wings of that butterfly. I was the butterfly. Not only because I was sitting now, on a puddle of water under the wrath of the heavy with water clouds. I was that butterfly for my whole life.I had been fighting for a whole lifetime for my dreams, even when the others were telling me that there were no dreams to fight for. I had always been the one who would swim against the current for what he believed. And like that butterfly I would not quit even when the odds were all against me. I had been alone, like butterflies do. And in terms of REAL life, I was useless like a butterfly. I was not born to "fly" like the rest of the over-pompous workaholic Phd bearers. I was born to do something completely useless (like the butterfly), which was utterly necessary for me though. I was born to dream.

      I didn't feel pity for that creature. I did not feel any feelings. It could have been already dead, drifted afar by the storm. But it had lived free. That short life that was gifted to it, was more than worthy. And in the end it had achieved one big and noble thing. For its' size and it's destiny that colorful butterfly was a hero. A legend among the butterflies. With these on my mind, I finally found a reason to get inside. I did pay attention to my drenched clothes, and my dirty look. Little did they matter. I had met a friend that day. A friend who taught me to fight for what I was believing even if that was against my nature. Even when that seemed impossible. If a butterfly could defy the laws of nature, then surely I could defy the nature of laws (those unwritten laws that people create to degrade your dreams). Something small, gave to my dreaming such a great boost that day.

Free my soul....

- "I want to free my soul", said the young boy.

- "You are too young for that. You are still a child. Your soul is free. You can do anything you want. You can have anything you ask", said his father.

- "Don't you have everything you wanted father?", the child replied.

- "Of course I do. I have a bright son. I woman who loves me and I love too. I have a big house. A dog. An expensive car. I have a good job. I have everything I need. Everything we need".

- "Look at you dad. You are 55 years old and all your life you've been working hard to offer us a comfortable life. But what happened to your life dad? What happened to your dreams?. I want to fly free dad. I want to free my soul".

- "You are too young to be thinking of these things. You have a bright future waiting for you. You just can't go dreaming around.".

- "Icarus, was young also dad. And his father restrained him like you do now".

- "Icarus disobeyed his father's advice,boy. And he got killed for doing it. He flew close to the sun and his wings got burned".

- "His father gave him the wings he had crafted to help Icarus and himself fly safely. But Icarus flew free dad. He touched the sun. He felt the wind while falling. He touched the sea and got drown in it. But he was free. It's better to LIVE as an icarus for a moment dad, than living like Daedalus for a lifetime".....

Till death...do us apart

     Exactly three weeks ago,I had embarked for a strange journey. I left my beloved hometown and moved for two weeks in a completely different environment. The reason was simple. I was searching for answers. Answers I could not find otherwise. I spent two weeks doing exactly the opposite things that my character was used to. In this journey I had to discover myself. But you can never find yourself if you do not look first where you stand among the others. So being a stranger in that town I spent many hours of my day,walking and blending in with the "natives". I watched carefully their moves, their reactions, their way of living. They were normal people living normal lives, and I was the one who was researching their normality. In a way I did a psychoanalysis by observation.


     My verdict has many legs. I found many things to analyze and learned many many more. But I was shocked mostly by a single picture. Inevitably I had to extend my research to a place where a great number of people would attend. What's better than a mall? So I spend a whole day at the mall watching,observing,taking notes and thinking about the reactions of everything I could find. In a corner of the mall, there was a cafeteria. A place where everybody would rest and have a snack. I entered the place in search of a refreshment but in the end found something greater.


     While walking into the vicinity of the cafeteria I noticed a senile couple. They were sitting in the front row, almost deserted by the rest of the cafeteria. They were alone there. All the back rows were taken, but they were all alone in the front like some kind of lepers. Thankfully the fact that there was no one around them helped me notice them.. I bought myself a light meal and a soft drink and walked in search of a table to sit. Normally my instinct would lead me also to the back where the crowd was. It would seem more appropriate cause the back was crumbed with youngsters and couples. It would be easier for me to blend with people closer to my age. But this time two contradicting feelings settled in my mind. The one was the feeling of the researcher. For a strange reason this elderly couple intrigued me. The other was an even stranger urge to break my unavoidable full of prejudice habits. With these in mind I decided to sit close to the couple. I picked a table where I was back to back with the old lady of the couple, and I was so close that I could "eavesdrop" on their conversation. From afar it would surely seem like a very peculiar scene. In a place full of couples and "teams" of young people, a man alone on a table close to a couple whose years added together would surely make 4 times his age. And the funnier, they were both surrounded by empty chairs.


     The old man was in a wheelchair. Obviously he was disabled. He seemed to have somewhere about 80% paralysis because his wife was doing all the works for him. She was tenderly feeding him at the time, something which probably couldn't do by himself. And she did it with extreme care. Like she was dealing with a baby. The first thing that came in my mind was simple. They had probably been married for more than 4 decades, judging by their age. But the woman still took care of her man, even though she has also probably been doing it for also 4 decades. Without complaining or asking for return. She was there for her man. I kept wondering. How would that feel? It must take such a great strength of character doing that. So what were their motives? None. There must be no motives in my opinion. It must be love. Pure undivided love. Not the kind that teenagers feel. The real kind of love. The one in which you would die to see your partner happy. So was it love?? I had to put it on a scale and find what weighed more. So taking into consideration every married couple's sayings, passion after certain years (in the best cases) seizes to exist. Then it turns to affection. And affection turns into love. The deep meaningful love of a family member. But somewhere between, there is also hidden the sense of being accustomed to someone. Routine of seeing someone every day. Something like a moral duty to take care of him/her and been taken care of. I wonder if all the married couples had the choice of living their partner without no guilt to be found, how many would actually do it?. Anyway. I tried to listen to the couples conversation. I had the impression that this couple was in a way some kind of a super couple. In my mind I had idolized them. I had carved a statue of them and worshipped them for their tender image. I wanted to believe they were some kind of retired university teachers, who had been intellectual, who had lived love in it's utter expression in their youth, and now they were living their "last years" under the same blessed way. But this wasn't the case. They were not intellectuals (not more than  me and you at least). They were a simple traditional Greek old couple. They seemed to be not something out of the ordinary. And that was far more encouraging. If an ordinary couple could withstand time and conditions so difficult, and in the end taking care of each other so tenderly then the really "extraordinary" couples would be able to perform miracles.


     The two of them contradicted the very idea that took thousands of years to be build in our consciousness. The "strong" man takes care and "protects" the "weak" woman. And the "tender" romantic woman "loves" and serves loyally the man. Isn't that what the fathers' teach to the boys and mothers' to their daughters? Isn't' that the feminist parties try to kill? Isn't that what's been going on (even without words sometimes) for centuries? Well, that old couple proved millions of beliefs wrong. The woman was taking care of the man. The woman was protecting the man (in any way, even by moving his wheelchair). The woman was both a man and a woman. Of course it could had been the other way round.  But this would change nothing. The same rules would apply.  Only the roles would change.


    I wondered how the man on the wheelchair would feel. I could never come to his place though. How can you understand such a situation if you don't live it yourself. It would be unfair even to him and every person who was unlucky to be in such a situation, to try and come to their place. Ruling out completely the idea of getting in his shoes, I tried a different approach. Was there any way for him to be happy? Was there anything at all that he would desire? The strange thing was that he had a strange smile on his face. The smile of a man who was reassured. The smile of a man who had all the things he needed. And I guess that all the things he wanted were sitting next to him taking care of him. 


    Strangely but without wondering another idea stormed in my mind. What were two senile people doing in a mall? I tried not to rationalize it further. After all it would be a stereotypic idea to judge them because of their age. They might had been there for shopping. Or maybe they were there for a walk. Yet their image among the young "healthy" and "happy" (?) people was rather a stand for them. I felt tenderness and affection for this couple. But also a great sense of proudness. I admired them. They would not compromise in front of a TV. They stood outside in the world (let's face it, the cities are unfriendly for older members of our society). But they lived in their ideal world. An ideal world which might had been difficult to live in, but it was timid and true.

    The couple had already finished their meal, they got prepared and finally faded out in the crowd. The old woman who could barely walk on herself was pushing a wheelchair with her man on it. I sat there for a while thinking of the last image I ever got of this couple. God knows what they had been through in their life. Good,bad,simple or complicated situations. But they were together. Isn't that the power of humanity. To have someone by your side no matter how difficult the situations. No matter what the bumps life throws on your path. Like the announcement on marriages, "Till death..do us apart". So true. How jealous am I of those two "young in heart" old people. The only thing that could keep them apart would literally be death. And in their case even death isn't enough...

Despicable "monsters"...and lonesome souls (?)

     Loneliness and desertion are signs of our time. We live in big cities with skyscrapers, along with millions of people around us, but we get less sociable by the day. We alienate from our neighbors,our family...even our own personality in the end. A quick review in 2009 statistics will reveal that the number of divorces increases,the number of suicides has reached an alerting level the past years and more people have (or choose) to live alone. What the statistics can't show though, is the inner loneliness. The loneliness we face,when we return home, even when around us there are people who love us. It is also a sign of the times. Depression is the new trend. It is justifiable though? Technology has taken away most of our time,leaving less and less time for our friends,our family,our acquaintances and our self in the end. We need to be together with people. It's in our nature. But we tend to run away from them. Cause we haven't learned how to approach them. But sometimes, (and that is a fact) the others chose to run away from us.


     Being a lonely creature myself, I've been thinking lately the reasons for all these. I had to check back in time. Loneliness is not a new thing. Obviously it walks hand in hand with humanity from the beginning of time. The truth is though that do not have many written facts about loneliness through time (psychologists where too busy healing the mental traumas of the ones in battle back in the ancient days). I decided to analyze the portrait of the three most famous lonesome "monsters" of classic literature. Their cases are totally different from every aspect. But they join in the very same point. They were all rejects of society. They were outcasts, because of what they looked like and not what they really where.



Here's their life stories.....



    Pinocchio - Pinocchio is the main character of Carlo Collodi's book "The adventures of Pinocchio". Pinocchio is young boy made out of wood. In the first version of the book her was created by his "father" Geppetto by a magic log. In the newest kids version's along with Disney's animated movie, he was given life by a fairy. No matter what gave life to Pinocchio though, his 

 

story is remarkable. He is a little hell raiser, playing naughty whenever he can. But not always out of character. Since he has been "magically" brought to life, he spends his childhood exploring. He is a bit naive, since he hasn't lived before. His character is not of a bad one though. Whenever he commits a bad deed he understands and regrets it. He is a conscious puppet, and that always gets him in trouble. His nose gets longer when he lies, only to remind him to be humble and righteous. Later in the narration it becomes obvious that Pinocchio feels lonely. He is often being mocked of being a wooden puppet. He gets in trouble for being only what he was "born" to be. We find Pinocchio wanting to become a real boy. He denies his nature, wanting to become "normal" like all the other kids. Although he seems to have many friends and colleagues from the animal kindgom, nevertheless he wants to become a "real" boy in flesh and bones. This is the real message of the book. To show the loneliness that one can feel, when he lives in a place where he is different. Pinocchio is a real example. Cause he is just a kid, but he gets to know the pain of disertion even in this fragile age. The story of Pinocchio is full of surprises. He goes to the circus, being chased by police, being threatened. He even becomes a donkey as a punishment for his behavior. But in the end, even over his restless reckless way of living, his innocent childish world colides with the world of an adult. He has to deal with situations an adult would face. And in the end, to fight his own "wooden" lonely way of living to become a real boy.

      Frankenstein - Frankenstein is the name of the book created by Mary Shelley back in 1818. Wrongfully everybody assumes that Frankenstein is the name of the "monster" created in the book. Actually it is the name of the scientist who created this "monster". In the novel it is called simply "the monster" or "being". That creature is being disrespected even to his own name. The scientist Victor Frankenstein gives life to a creature made of body parts from deceased people. He uses a self made machine to breath life to creature. And in the end he manages to create life. The creature is born. "It'sAlive". Soon after the scientist realizes his mistake. Playing God has always been a taboo in novels. He understands that he has to destroy his own   creation. The creature is naive and gullible.That creature with no past, no     education..has feelings. He is being abandoned by his creator, something  which makes him become independent and also teaches him about life and  humanity. But It understands the danger he is in and tries to save his life. The  creature progressively understands that it is being feared because of it's appearance. It gets more and more alone. The scientist embarks in a manhunt against it (monster-hunt would be the exact phrase), when he finds our that he is responsible for his borther's death. . The creature is fully aware of it's situation. Although in the book his actions and feelings are not exactly followed, we can perceive that it feels lonely and abandoned. The creature has no intentions for it, but it becomes a murderer. He has full cognition of his action though. And even promises revenge on his creator when the latter refuses to create him a female companion. In general we could say that the monster, is not a monster at all. He is a lonely creature, created with a despicable appearance, but inside it seems to be a human after all. More human than humans.

      Quasimodo - Quasimodo is the main character in Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Quasimodo is the bell ringer of the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. He is an orphan which was abandoned by his parents in the doorstep of the cathedral when he was a baby. He was raised and protected 

 by Claude Frollo. He is being treated with dignity and care by his "alleged" father. But Quasimodo is an "abomination" in the eyes of the people of Paris. Actually he has spend almost his whole life living in the shadows of the great cathedral. He is a hunchback. His body as well as his face are deformed. He is considered a "monster". But he is kind hearted. He has a lonely soul, hidden behind his appearance. He is devoted to the job he was given, to ring the bells of Notre Dame. And that task cost him his hearing. Quasimodo's story begins to unveil when in one of his few visits outside the church he ends up in a huge carnival being crowned king of fools. Of course it all happens because of his hideous looks, but for the first time in the novel (and his life obviously), poor Quasimodo is accepted by other people. And there begins his beautiful and tragic journey. He meets and falls in love with a mesmerizing gypsy called Esmeralda. Later he saves her from execution. They get to briefly know each other. And while she understands the kind heart of Quasimodo and the love that he feeds for her, still she is in love with the "handsome" Phoebus who is the leader of the guards. After a murder, the death of Esmeralda and a series of events Quasimodo ends in the cemetery, where he dies next to the dead body of his first and only love in life.

  




     Those three "monsters" are different in many aspects. Pinnochio and "Frankenstein" are being magically (or scientifically) enchanted with life. Quasimodo is the only one born like a real human being. The first two also have no past or memories. They were only awaken and have to learn about the world in very short notice. Quasimodo on the other hand has lived a full childhood and adulthood (I don't remember if his age is ever mentioned in the book), although it was not of a real human's life, since he spent most of his life locked inside the darkness of the Cathedral away from prying eyes. Also Quasimodo is the only one who has a job. His task is to ring the bells of the church and he is very devoted to doing it without complain. While the other "two" monsters search for answers and experiences in life, he spends his life in the cathedral without complaining. Until love strikes him, and gives him the initial urge and will to break all his unwritten promises to his protector Frollo and even kill him in the end for the sake of a woman's heart. Frankenstein also becomes a murderer but for completely different reasons, and driven by other emotions. Pinnochio is a child and although he is forced to swim in a world of adults, nevertheless he never loses his childhood innocence. Even after he has faced challenges far beyond his own perception and powers. All three have a fathering figure to consult, but in the end they tend to run far from them. They rebel as their own existence and behavior contradicts of the reality.

  

      Despite their differences all three character of those novels have some common features. They are all outcasts of the "normal" society. They are hated. They are mocked and feared because of their outside looks. The prejudism and the derision of the world around them never asked or cared of who they really were inside. Their looks are enough to bring fear and loathing. And along, they bring pain and desertion to those "otherwise" poor creatures. They are hunted, they hide in the shadows. They all wished that they could lead the "normal" life of others. They all have some unique abilities though. They have a charisma. And above all they all have a tender heart. They are victims. They crave to live life, but life is too cruel to allow to such personalities have a "normal" way of living. All three have a fathering figure to consult, but in the end they tend to run far from them. They rebel as their own existence and behavior contradicts of the reality.


     It's been over 100 years since the time all three novels were written. Have we changed from then?? Of course there are no monsters nowadays (?), buthas prejudism been completely eliminated? Far from that I'd say. Things are even worse today. Cause we are witnesses of a strange phenomenon. Completely normal people, working, being part of society, at the end of the day live in their lonesome world. Away from what we would normally call socialization. They are completely cut from the outside world, having no one to speak to. No one speaks them. It is tragic, in the age of universal communication, that many of us (if not all) have times when we hide in our shell. In a shell where we render others unable to understand us, and we are rendered unable to understand the world. There is no guide line to tell us whether we are lonely or not. Even when we live among the millions of people, we still have a dark spot where loneliness prevails in our soul. And the worst of all, we probably are unaware of that whole concept. 

P.S................. While writing this article I felt a very strong bond with each character. A deep sympathy for them. Sometimes I wished that I could meet them in person, and see myself if I could offer them a different approach to their "unique" physique, and of course their unique personality... Who knows, maybe I've met such "monsters" and treated them badly without knowing and understanding it. Maybe we all did.

Doc.....Please prescribe me a remedy

     What has been humanity's worst illness? Flu? Cholera? Plague? Chicken Pots?....It could be. But which is the only illness that everybody (and I mean everybody) in this planet has gone through? It's a diseace that sometimes leaves scars. Sometimes it is curable. Sometimes not. Sometimes it renders you helpless when others it makes you restless. It can last from one day to one lifetime. Most of the times it gives you a cheerful mood while others it remains an open wound that bleeds for years. I am talking about Love. I would be grateful if everybody agreed that love is a diseace indeed. Of course it is a blessing, but once love has settled in our hearts.. it alters everything that touches, in ways unimaginable before. So, if love is a deseace then it surely has a remedy. Millions of them. Everybody has a prescription. Time, distance, another love, hobbies... Just ask people around you and you will take so many different answers.What is not always easily desiphered though is what symptoms love gives out. How do we know we are love-struck.


Here are some of the most common symptoms of love:


1) Euphoria...A general euphoria overwhelms you. Your body. Your mind. Your every function. You smile to everyone and everything. You walk down the road like "John Travolta" in  "Saturday Night Fever". That old song talking about love that you hated now uplifts you and makes you want to dance.The sun is always shining even when outside your window it's raining. This symptom is passive. But it's results dramatically change your way of thinking.


2) Shining...You seem to shine like a diamond. Your face and your body reflect a blinding light. Like you've been touched by a magic wand. All this shining also affects the things you touch.


3) Insomnia...Yes,when in love, it's so hard to sleep at night. It's hard to sleep in the morning. It's generally hard to sleep. This symtom has a drastic affect on the whole body. In the beginning it is only alerting. But no matter how deep are the consequences in the end your body will give up. You have to sleep sometime, even if it is not for many hours. The effect of insomnia is greatly affected by the severity of the "Euphoria" symtptom.


4) Blindness... You tend to overlook things. You can't find your keys even when they are under your nose. You seem to miss the keyhole on the door or the car. You generally get short sighted, get blurry vision and in the end get totally blinded.. Note.Your loved one stays immune to your blindness.


5) Disfunctions.... You seem to be doing everything the wrong way. You wear you shoes in the wrong foot. You drive your car in the wrong lane. You even seem to push the wrong floor number in the elevator. This symptom comes along with the "Cloud Walking" symptom.


6) Loss of appetite... Your best friend at night has now become a sworn enemy. Or even worse, you seem to be apathetic towards the refrigerator and generally the kitchen area. You lose your appetite. You don't want to eat anything at all. No solid food may pass through your mouth. You discover that you can stay for days without eating without even missing it. Even chewing gum becomes a heavy burden... This symptom has an imminent effect on body weight. And it spreads rapidly. Unfortunately it soon creates the unpleasant feeling of having no power to move. 


7) Discovery... You discover new things. You have found an 8th color in the rainbow. A new note in the pentagram (the "L" note and chord). You are finally able to see that beyond your window lives a green mountain that you've been missing for years. You walk down the road and discover that those walking things among you are actually other human beings and not magically enhanced walking mannequins. This symptom is contradicting symptom #4. 


8) Cloud walking & Dreaming... Your normally rational behavior has been substituted by crazy dreams and anticipations. Your aspirations become somehow multiplied. You think of the future more often than before. You never seize to think in fact. Your mind works at full capacity, and in general making deeply cheerful thoughts. If you could reach the clouds you would surely be able to walk on them.


9) Time disorientation.... You seem to have lost the sense of time. Seconds become minutes. Minutes become hours. Hours become days. Day and night collide and become one. You feel like you don't have enough time to do what you want and on the other hand you get amazed how many hours have passed and you've been gazing at the stars thinking of him/her...

The Carousel Ride

     It probably was the time to wake up. I opened my heavy eyes. What was wrong? Nothing but darkness. I tried to open and close them rapidly over and over again, in an attempt to adapt to the lighting conditions. Still nothing. Complete and disorienting darkness. I tried to get up from the bed. Maybe I should search for the light switch. Impossible to do it. There was no bed beneath. I was floating. I tried to move. Still no reaction from my limbs. They were numb too. Like my consciousness. I searched for the most logical answer. 

-"This is a dream. It surely is a dream. It can't be something more. But wait a minute. Never before had I understood that I was dreaming within a dream"

     So it was not a dream. I was gliding through the air, completely motionless. I should had been scared. Surprisingly I wasn't scared. I was intrigued. I had always been waiting for a miracle in my life. A "black swan" situation. A completely and undoubtable non logical situation. Here it was. How many people had been floating on thin air without prosthetic means. Finally. My orthological mind was facing a phenomenon that it could not even understand. Let aside explain. The experience was rather fascinating.

     The compass in my mind was not showing north. In fact it was steadily turning to all directions. Like a "carousel". I decided to give it another try. My body began moving, completely slowly in the beginning but the moves where decisive and steady. In the darkness I was standing on my feet at last. And now the dark horizon was not an enemy anymore. I was looking at a never ending abyss of complete emptiness. But it was familiar. In real life, some time ago, I had found this emptiness. Alone, on a pier overlooking the ocean. That beautiful scenery which every poet would be jealous of was nothing more than an image overwhelmed by the dullest color in any painter’s palette. The "gray". On that day, on that pier even the warm tears that were rolling down my chicks were gray. And life continued to become more and more an empty vessel. A despicable void. I once thought it was a curse. Later I found the explanation in punishment. It occurred to me that I was being punished for something bad I had done. Yet I was never able to pinpoint that act that unleashed the menace of life on me.

      Suddenly the lights of a carousel lit. In the complete darkness, the carousel was an eye candy. I had never ridden a carousel in my whole life. And this one was made for kids. I would never fit on that tiny ponies going up and down a pole and turning around and around. A soothing music started from the old rusty but full of life carousel. Oh, that familiar music from my mother's small music box. I would watch for hours the small ballerina dance when the lid was opened back at the time when I was a little child. I entered the carousel. I was all alone. No one would say anything. No one would even care or notice that I was taking that ride. The vivid lights where distorting my vision. I had grown accustomed to the darkness, and the sudden change made the ride uncomfortable. I grabbed a pole, on which the painted pink pony was moving up and down, like it was dancing under the melody of the music. There was no way my adult body could fit on that made for children pony. How could ever an adult fit in a dream toy made for kids anyway?
      The carousel ride was unexpectedly pleasant. I was riding a carousel. And I loved it. Sometimes you have to let yourself become a child to understand the freedom of not having to rationalize everything. Some old tube screens lit up on the middle pillar of the carousel. Nothing was shown. Only static. The screens were all dusty and old. Like they had been preserved from the 80's. One by one the screens began showing images. In each one of the 18 screens there was a child playing. I was mesmerized staring at the images on the screens which were changing in a strange pattern. Like they were telling a story. I was so focused on the images, that did not even realize that the carousel had came to a halt. The lights progressively were going out, living in the end only the screens lighting up the scenery. The center column, where all the screens were attached was rotating. obeying some strange force. A force which focused on certain important images inside the screens. The rotating column along with the flickering light of the screens were creating a rather impressive scenery. Shadows were overruling the whole place. I could not take my eyes from the constantly changing images on the screens. It was like each screen was only playing images of one certain age for each child in there. Fascinating. A closer look revealed the obvious truth. Every screen represented a year of the same child's life. It was ME. My whole childhood was flashing before my eyes. That was impossible. Yet very interesting. The uncomfortable place the carousel was before, flooded with images from a life I had almost forgotten. A story was being revealed. I had no need to explain, how or why this was happening. Why should I find a reasonable answer? My mind was always trying to come to reason with everything that it came in touch with. My childhood was not a matter of debate. Suddenly, without no obvious sign, the screens one after the other began going black. The last light source had gone out. Complete darkness again... I was expecting that though. I was still holding the pole. And I had just watched a movie of my own life. I had no reason to panic.

    And as suddenly as the screens blacked out the same suddenly began flashing like symphony of thunderstorms in the night. One by one the screens lit up with a bunch of white letters in a black background. The column began rotating once again. And every screen had the same message written...

"Do you want to return back there???". I could not move my eyes from the messages. The column turned faster by the minute. It reached a vertigo speed, and there was no possible for me way to understand the message written. The spinning image gave out a strange optical illusion. Like the very first movie ever made. The "bird in the cage" optical illusion. A bright idea, used by illusionists who wanted to impress the crowds, was later the reason which the modern movie industry was built on. An image of a bird standing alone on the one side of a thick carton paper. A cage on the other side. And two strings attached on both sides. When the illusionists turned the strings in increasing speed, the bird was "imprisoned" in the cage. Yet in the carousel illusion no bird got imprisoned. The illusion was crystal clear. The speeding column, showed on the screens one thing. A countdown..10,9,8...I remembered the question.

"Do you want to return back there???". I had to answer. And I had to do it quickly.....7,6,5. How can you make such a life decision in such short notice....4,....3...

- "No", I said confidently.

Nothing happened. No magical tricks, no answers. Nothing at all......the countdown was still on.....2.......1

- "NOOOOOOOOOOO", I shouted with all the might that was left on my voice. It was so impulsive. It was a war cry, elevating from the depths of my soul, and rising through my whole body. I thought my voice could break every crystal glass of the world. Yet the darkness had a very strange ability to drown the sound as well as the light. The countdown reached its last number, and faded. The screens where filled with static once again. Nothing had happened. The big carousel was dead once again. The chance to relive the happiest days of my life was lost. And the carousel seemed like it had a soul. It understood that this chance was gone, and it was turning back to the darkness from whence it came. I stopped holding the pole that I had been grabbing all along that crazy ride, and moved down the carousel. Once again, I was surrounded by the thick darkness.

     Doubts settled in. I wondered why did I answer this way to that mind disorienting machine. "Ο γέγονε, γέγονε". What's done is done, like the ancient Greeks said. No turning back I thought. The nostalgia from witnessing those beautiful childhood scenes surely scented the dark air with a melodramatic aroma. I felt the sudden urge to walk. The numbness had already been a thing of the past after the carousel experience. I walked along with no destination and no goal through the dark painted scenery. It was what I really needed. at the moment. Movement. My heart was now beating on it's normal rate. My blood was flowing through my veins and the mind had already started making plans, out of an empty situation. That was the most important lesson. Motion brings motion.

     I walked and walked.. Time and space could not be measured in that God forsaken place. That strange walkabout was destined to prepare me. Cause all along the journey to the unknown, it had fired millions of thoughts in my mind. And they banged liked the fireworks of New Year in Times Square. It was something I had never seen before. Those thoughts were all colorful exactly like the fireworks on the night sky. They gave color and brightness to the darkness. The necessity for acting became an independency of the mind. That motion had revolutionized the cogs of my mind that had been barely moving for years. And now they were all working in full capacity, driving my train of thought and imagination to far away destinations. To places I had never visited.

     The moody darkness was now a friend and not an adversary. There were no stimuli from the outside environment. And this was helping my thoughts to settle in. It distilled them, and finally they were purified by everything the world could spoil them with. I didn't know if I wanted it never to end, or if I wanted to share my experience with other human being. Would they understand? Would they mock me? Would they try to exploit my world or imprison my thoughts. Well, like every other time life took the oars of my boat and steered me to whichever destination it wanted. Now I was being driven to a light spot on the edge of the horizon. I could choose to walk away, but actually there was no real choice in it. The very same person that created that light over there knew I would never resist. So I walked towards the bright white light, hypnotized, like a fly is bedazzled on the sight of sugar. The more I reached for the light the more I could define it's shape. It was a doorway, no bigger from the normal doorways in everyday houses. I finally was close enough to enter the doorway of light. A sudden burst of consciousness overwhelmed me. Walking that door would probably take me to some magical uncharted place. But I would have to leave the darkness behind, and with it the serenity and the sound of the impact my own thoughts made to that strange dark place. I took three steps back. I would either pluck up my courage and rush into the light or turn away and start striding in the darkness. The choice was now mine. Only mine. Fate should stay away. I just had to choose between dark and light. Between unknown and known. I was a fool though. I knew I would never be able to take such a decision. Not only a fool but a big coward too. I was afraid to lose my previous state of mind, because it was my real self, with my real thoughts concealed by everyone with that veil of darkness. But on the other side, I so much needed that change. So I sat down on the ground waiting for some kind of sign, to rock me to one side or the other. This was one of the moments where life decides to lay the cards on the table and shout out that dealer wins. The unwritten law of casinos. The dealer always wins. Luckily when the dealer called “life” wins, it returns all the winnings of the other naive "losers" to us. So my dealer after winning from me and the other players all our belongings, he stripped of his casino uniform, took me by the hand bought me a beer at the nearest bar, and after chatting with me, shared all his winnings.

      Now the bright light of the open doorway, was being substituted by a strange shadow. A shadowy silhouette was being formed in front of the light flooded doorway. It emerged from the light. But I could not discern any details of that person. The bright light behind him let me perceive only his shadow. It was like a student-teacher scene. I was sitting on the ground, in full awe and excitement and the man was confidently standing over me, with a posture that could reveal a deep wisdom. No one talked. I was somehow amazed and thrilled, but completely lost for words. He on the other side, was talking to me through his silence.

- "You never seize to amaze me", he finally said, with a steady voice. "Didn't you always dream to turn back time and make the best of what is now your pitiful life?. You were given the chance on that carousel. Why did you have to say no?".

     That man knew way much more than his already decisive looks revealed. I had no words to say for a moment. He caught me way out of guard. Those thoughts in the dark, had given me so many answers. But not the one I needed now. I finally answered believing that I would murmur foolishness. But it turned out that my soul was talking instead of me.

- "While I was on that carousel, I witnessed the first 18 years of my life. Needless to say, I witnessed the most beautiful years of my life. I was full of energy then. Full of passion. I wasn't thinking much. I was only acting impulsively. I was never a "Dennis The Menace" kind of child. But I did act recklessly from time to time. Those were amazing years. My life took the wrong turn after those 18 years had passed. You asked me why did I choose not to return. Don't you see that having returned I would have killed my childhood just to make a life to live comfortably as an adult? No. No matter what the pain I am swimming into these days, I would never do such a repulsive thing to my "childish" self".

     The man smiled secretly like he had been waiting for the exact same answer. He was about to make his next question but a thought flashed in my mind.

- "Wait.. I know your voice", I replied with a trembling amazed voice.

- "Of course you know it. I have been talking in you mind for so long. Since the day you discovered your uniqueness. Since you became the example of a real man. The example of a real human"

- "How can have you been talking in my mind sir. That voice, which you imitate so easily, is the voice of my consciousness. It speaks to me only when I have doubts about what I am going to do. It rationalizes my thoughts sometimes. Others it double dares me to do things. It provokes me or encourages me. It strips me off my prejudism about the things I hide in my mind. And shows the nudeness of other thoughts I make. But that voice, sir, always leaves me a choice. It is me who acts in the end. No one else"

- "And do you know exactly what is consciousness my friend? Have you ever thought who puts that voice in your head? Do you think everybody has consciousness? Let me tell you a secret I learned from a wise Sufi I met on my trip to Tibet" The strange shadow man was about to continue his speech, but catching my worried look he asked.

- "What do you find so peculiar in my words?"

- "Sir I am so jealous of you. I've never been to Tibet. It is a holy sacred land and I want to visit such a tranquil place. But, I have never been out of my country actually. And it is my dream to travel the world and meet people. Good,bad,black,white,Asian,wise,naive,old,young. Every kind of man. Communication is our only weapon against the tyranny of loneliness. Both literal and spiritual.".

- "You know my friend, I'll be honest with you. Sufis do not dwell in Tibet. I thought you knew that. And I have never been to Tibet either. The oppression it has been under, makes me feel guilty for being a human. Actually the secret I wanted to tell you, I heard it from the taxi driver that brought me here".

     Now it was my turn to laugh, and it was the first time I laughed for as long as I could remember. He seemed to cheer up too watching me laugh so hard.

- "Listen to what I have to tell you", he continued while he was dressing his face with his serious look. "Like I told you, not everybody in this world have a voice of consciousness. Just go back in your memory. Do you remember when was it the first time you heard this voice? I am sure you don't, so let me freshen a bit your memory. This voice was born on the first day you doubted yourself. On the first day you dared to doubt your strongest beliefs. I still remember that day. I remember your words as if you uttered them now. -Everybody says that I am wrong. But I know deep inside me that I am not. Maybe I should adopt the ideas of others after all. There's no possibility I could be right and all these people be wrong. I am not that brilliant to defy them." he did not say anything for some seconds. He deliberately used that pause, so that my mind could remember. Obviously on the course of time those memories were buried in my mind. He knew it already so before I could even say a word, he continued.

- "Don't worry. It's not bad that you don't remember. I just want to inform you that you were right, regardless of what the others believed. Don't forget the story of Galileo. He was the only person on the planet, that proclaimed that the Earth was turning around it's axis and around the sun. One man against a whole planet. Yet, he was the one who was right in the end. He defied the whole world, with his revolutionary "heliocentric" idea. Even the Pope himself.. He had something you have never found though. He did not doubt himself. He chose to be accused of heresy than betraying his own ideas. His own self". Another pause for my mind to grind all the new information. The pause was shorter this time. He continued almost like he had witnessed my whole life from the day I was born.

- "These are all I had to tell you about consciousness. But you should know I am not your consciousness talking. I am more real than you think".

- "Are you an angel? Are you my guardian angel?", I replied with a bit of shyness in my voice and a bit of guilt for saying something that made no sense at all.

- "Ha ha....". He laughed again. And with no time to lose he continued with his deep consolidating voice.

- "They are calling me with different names. Yes. In the past few people called me an angel. What do you think I am? As you can see, I have no wings on my back."

I got troubled both by his mysterious inquiry and his straight way of referring to his identity.

-"I have no clue at all, what you can be sir. My mind is so confused all this time that I can't think clearly".

- "That has always been a drawback of yours. You never notice the obvious. You must search deeper for meanings, that me and the world and even other people have hidden there for you. They are everywhere. People who love and care for you leave them for you to decipher and most of the times even they don't know it".

- "I am not very good in reading between the lines sir. But I promise I will honestly try from now on".

- "Listen my friend. I am here to give you another chance. You seem to have learned a valuable lesson. Don't try to deny it. You are a good person. You are a bit naive, because all the good persons don't see the dark side of the world. You lived in dreams for so long. And when people destroyed your dreams, you continued loving them. You still tried to change them into better. You believed in them, and believed in the light that was hiding deep inside them. And when the carousel gave you the chance to change all those things for yourself, you refused. Cause deep inside you, you had already made you choice. You would sacrifice yourself for a greater cause. So not only you were noble towards others, but you also managed to save yourself too. I will give you a chance to make your life better from now on. The lesson you've learned today liberated you from your fears. That's my gift to you. When you return back to REAL life, you'll be able to change your life on your own. You will never have to pray for a miracle again, because you will be creating the miracles you need. You will have to excuse me now, but I have to go". The strange man turned his back and began to fade into the light. But for a moment he stopped.

- "I forgot to tell you this. When you wake up you will not remember any of this".

     I wanted to run after him but my limbs were numb once again. My journey to the opposite side had already begun.

- "Sir don't go. Please. You have to explain. How can I change, if I won't be remembering anything when I wake up?". I tried to reach him, I shouted at him, trying to get an answer. But it was already too late. He had vanished inside that never-ending light. I was breathless from all the effort to take an answer. With no more strength in my body, which had already begun getting numb, I laid on the ground. The light of the strange doorway had already gone out. I was left once more to where it all had begun. My last words to that man echoed inside my mind.

- "Sir don't go. Please. You have to explain. How can I change, if I won't be remembering anything when I wake up?".

Suddenly his reassuring voice returned in my head.

- "Don't worry my friend. Our hearts and our souls, remember all the things our memory in unable to".

     I already knew that the transition was taking place. All my body was frozen. My eyes could not get used to the dark that had been released once again. They flickered for a moment and then shut with an almost unreal way.

     The screaming guitar solo woke me up. I've always been a fan of rock music. Even if rock artists were considered drug addicts or alcoholics, they left in the world music scene rare diamonds. I was a rock star once. It did not last long because life had other plans for me. But it was a time I was happy working with my old band. There was unbelievable chemistry with all of the guys. And chemistry is an essence that really gives communication a strong uplifting. My beloved black guitar was still hanging on the wall of my room, serving now as an ornament. And reminding me of some beautiful moments of the past. I had forgotten the music playing all night.

- "What did I drink last night?", I wondered. "Damn. I forgot the music playing all night. But why didn't I listen to it until now. Feels like I was in a deep dream, which I can't even remember of”. The man was true to his words.

     I stood up and walked to bathroom. I walked like a blind man, stumbling upon every piece of furniture. My eyes were burning. Like I had been in darkness for long and they were now complaining. But my room was full of light, since it was morning and I had already forgotten to close the blinds on the windows the previous night. Before my hands could touch the running water to wash my eyes, I heard the sound of the door bell.

- "Who can it be now?", I said and my voice was heard like a pirate moaning. I opened the door only to see a young child no more than 10 years old standing on my doorway. It was the younger member of a family comprised by two parents and other five children. They had all migrated from another country 4 years ago searching for a better life. They were living since then in our neighborhood. That youngling was dirty, and full of bruises from the countless times he had stumbled with his rusty bike. His clothes were over worn, and torn almost in every side. That little guy though, had a very strange spark in his eyes. He had nothing in this world. Only his self discovered games. And his imagination every day was building a new one. I could see him sometimes from the balcony, playing all alone in the park. His whole family were descent people too. They were discreet hard working people. And they loved all of their children despite the fact that they could offer them almost nothing of the material goods. Those people surely deserved a better future.

- "Mister James.I am very sorry to bother you. My mother said that I should come to you because you are not like all the other old people in our neighborhood. She said that you went to college and maybe you could help me". That kid had learned so quickly the new language. His accent was strange but he had made steps in learning, at a lever that the best linguists in the world would be jealous of. After all, children learn way faster than adults. They see it as another way of playing. And they are open to anything. Their mind is pure and free of concerns and memories.

- "Come inside MY FRIEND. I have a nice bottle of chocolate milk in the fridge and some cookies in the kitchen, and I need some company to finish them off". I pet his head as he walked in my apartment. We had breakfast together.

- "Your mom did good to sent you to me, cause those cookies where too many for me. But you should know that I quit college. That's something your mother doesn't know I guess".

- "You can still help me Mr. James." the kid said like he was apologizing for something bad he had done.

- "I will help you, but you must call me Jim like my friends call me, from now on. Ok?"

- "Ok Mr. Jim. Listen. I want you to write a letter for me. My parents don't have enough money to send me to school, and all those kids mock me because of my dirty clothes. I was trying to write this letter alone, but I don't know how to put the letters together. I want you to write that letter for me".

- "And what is this letter about my little friend?".

- "Do you know the rich family that lives across the road? They have a daughter. I wake up every day early in the morning to watch her daddy put her in the car on the way to school. And I sit on the pavement in the evening, to see her when she goes to her piano lessons. I want to watch her all day, Mr. Jim." he said with the childhood innocence of the first love.

- "Adults call what you feel love my friend. Did you talk to her?"

- "No I did not. But one day she smiled at me. She is so beautiful. Her daddy is rich. She goes to a private school. She takes piano lessons. She always wears the most expensive clothes. My father says that she will never talk to someone so poor like me. But my mom said that you should help me write a letter to her. She believes that she is a good girl, and that our God will help me talk to her. I will leave the letter outside her door in the evening. I will not sleep all night Mr. Jim to be sure that I will see her read my message".

- "I really want to help you my friend, but I don't know what to write to your letter".

- "Why Mr. Jim. Didn't you ever feel what you adults call love?". That little guy was sneaky. But his words were innocent. He was telling the truth.

     My memory turned back some years. At the age 24. The tear that began rolling down my chick was the best answer to the little boy's question. I wiped it carefully with my finger. The boy was so obsessed with his love letter that did not even notice.

- " I will help you my friend. But I am not good at writing love letters. I remembered a song I wrote for my band some years ago. They never agreed to it though, because it was a love song. Bring me that paper and the pen from my office and I will write it down for you". The boy ran like the wind to bring that piece of paper. Love is so strange. Like they say in my country "Love does not discriminate between ages". He got back in a blink of an eye.

- "Here's how it goes" I told him, and he was staring in my eyes like his own life was hanging from my pen.



I was dreaming of an angel 

And I found it in your eyes 

Even when the dreams turn to lies 

The dreamer never dies  

If I had just one last breath 

I would sacrifice it to kiss you 

And even if you erased my memories 

Just know I would still miss you



-"Ok. This is it. I believe it will work well. What's her name?"

- "Maria. Her name's Maria", said the young one and his voice was like an angel song singing a lullaby.

- "She has a beautiful name. So let's tell her who sends it. WITH LOVE TO MARIA FROM........Hey. I just noticed that the name your parents gave you in your native language is the same if you translate it in my language. So let's make it the right way. WITH LOVE TO MARIA FROM JIMMY... Here. Now you are ready to give it to her. But don't wait all night awaken. Just wake up very early to see if she will read it. Ok? And then come to tell me about it tomorrow.".



     The boy grabbed the letter and ran like a raging bull to the door. On his descent down the staircase, I could listen to him shouting.

- "Thank you Mr. Jim. Thank You".

     I closed the door and finally got myself into the bathroom. The music from my room was still playing. The squeaking voice of that blond long haired rocker (who had the tendency to perform live on his underwear) was being echoed all over the apartment. I put my head under the running water. A chill travelled from the bottom of my spine to the tip of my face. I raised my head looking straight at the mirror. But the mirror was gone. The doorway which was once filled with light had transformed into a mirror. The light was blinding, and the strange man was now closer than ever was staring at me from point blank range. I could finally see the details on his face. The details that the shadows on our previous meeting had so cleverly concealed. He was no other than myself in person. I was almost going to faint. But he was looking at me with a promising smile and a very confident look. I managed to gather my strength and look him back. He did not have to say anything this time. I knew them all.

- "Don't worry my friend. Our hearts and our souls, remember all the things our memory in unable to", he had said once.

- "I don't worry Jim. My heart and my soul remember now. And I have the best partner I could ever have”.

     I turned around. My face was shining. A long smile was covering my whole face. I did not have to turn back to the mirror. I knew he was already gone.

- "Goodbye for the time being. I know you'll never go far". I said with my back against that mirror.

     The music was still playing. The singer was shouting for the chorus of the song. "Take me down to the paradise city, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty "

- "Ha-ha.".. I laughed with all my heart and without wasting a single second I said full of confidence.

- "I don't know about the pretty girls, but I really need to stride on that green grass right now. PARADISE CITY..HERE I COME".