30 Αυγούστου 2014

Perfection.

Μια ζωή προσπαθούσα ό,τι κάνω να το κάνω τέλεια. Τέλεια. Καλύτερα να μη γίνεται. Και "ευτυχώς" γι' αυτόν το σκοπό, η υπομονή μου ήταν πάντα "απέραντη".. Δεν το 'βαζα κάτω, προσπαθούσα ξανά και ξανά, μηδένιζα και ξανα-άρχιζα απ' την αρχή.. Και όλα μ' ένα σκοπό. Να τα κάνω τέλεια και να μείνουν.. Μουσική, ζωγραφική, χειροτεχνίες με το οτιδήποτε, κείμενα, παιχνίδια.. Ό,τι έκανα.. Όταν ήξερα δε, ότι δε μπορώ να φτάσω το τέλειο, πολλές φορές παρατούσα την προσπάθεια, ενώ άλλες δε ξεκινούσα καν.. Και πάντα κατέληγα -μετά από αρκετές προσπάθειες- στο συμβιβασμό (με την προϋπόθεση πως έφτασα πολύ κοντά), η στο παραμύθιασμα του εαυτού μου πως, τελικά το πέτυχα... Και να σου πω κάτι, στο κάτω κάτω, αυτό δε μετράει? Να σε πείσεις πως ήταν τέλειο. Πως είναι τέλειο.. Να είσαι υπερευχαρηστημένος με το αποτέλεσμά σου.. Η ψευδαίσθηση, η παραπλάνηση που δημιουργεί την τέλεια ψυχολογία, το τέλειο συναίσθημα..την ολοκλήρωση. Την επιβεβαίωση της επιτυχίας..
Όμορφα ψέματα.. Ένας άδικος κόπος όλα... Την τέλεια για σένα προσπάθεια, αυτό είναι που πρέπει να κάνεις. Τίποτα παραπάνω, τίποτα λιγότερο. Να δώσεις τον καλύτερό σου εαυτό και έπειτα να γνωρίζεις πως, εσύ, δυστυχώς, δε θα μπορούσες να το πας παραπέρα.. Και αυτό θα είναι ένας τέλειος επίλογος, να 'σαι σίγουρος.
Μου πήρε καιρό, μα κατάλαβα κι εγώ με τη σειρά μου πως, η τελειότητα δεν υπάρχει. Η τελειότητα είναι ιδέα. Είναι η απόδειξη και η επιβεβαίωση της ατελείωτης φαντασίας μας.. Είναι η ανάγκη μας να υπάρχει πάντα το κάτι καλύτερο, η ανάγκη μας για εξέλιξη... Αυτό
-και μόνο- που υπάρχει είναι η διάθεσή μας να υπήρχε η τελειότητα. Ο πόθος μας να μπορούσαμε να τη φτάσουμε και να την κατακτήσουμε.. Αυτό και μόνο.
Η διάθεση αυτή λοιπόν, για το τέλειο, πρέπει να είναι κινητήρια δύναμη, πρέπει να είναι το επόμενο βήμα, το βήμα μπροστά.. Όχι το ανεξέλεγκτο μικρόβιο που σου θολώνει την πορεία.. Όχι η μανία που δεν εκπληρώνεται ποτέ.. Πρέπει να την έχεις και να την ελέγχεις.. Και να τη σταματάς εκεί που νιώθεις πως τερματίζουν τα
"προσωρινά" σου όρια... Και πρέπει -έτσι- να υπάρχει. Γιατί αυτό είναι που θα σε πάει στο επόμενο σκαλοπάτι, που θα σε κάνει να δίνεις τον καλύτερό σου εαυτό και θα σε κάνει καλύτερο, την κάθε επόμενη φορά.. Αυτό είναι που πρέπει να καταλάβεις. Διότι μόνο τότε θα δεις τι πραγματικά είναι τέλειο.. Μόνο τότε θα εκτιμήσεις τη μαγεία της αυθεντικής τελειότητας.. Της τελειότητας του να ξεπερνάς κάθε φορά τον εαυτό σου και να πετυχαίνεις/κάνεις κάτι τέλεια όντας (πολλές φορές εξ αρχής) ημιτελείς.. Γιατί τελικά, αυτή μοιάζει να είναι η τελειότητα της ανθρώπινης ύπαρξης, όχι?..
Τέλειος δεν είναι ο
Huang Guofu -και άλλοι τόσοι όμοιοι του- που ζωγραφίζει (καλύτερα από πόσους άλλους), ενώ έχει χάσει και τα δυο του χέρια? Τέλειος δεν ήταν ο Ray Charles -και πόσοι ακόμα μουσικοί με αναπηρίες- που έπαιζε το πιάνο που έπαιζε, τυφλός απ' τα 7 του? Και πόσοι αθλητές και άλλοι... Ατελείωτοι, κι όμως, τέλειοι.

12 Αυγούστου 2014

An Unknown Friend


   It was almost midnight.. He was sitting across from me and his friend was right next to me. Both around my age. At first I thought they were from Spain.. He was looking like a Spanish guy I used to know.. Well, they weren't...
   I got there incidentally, just before them and I finally decided to stay until I had to move out again.. I actually had a non-seat ticket, but I could still hope... An old lady moved into the cabin some minutes later asking us to help her with her things.. After that there was a pause of silence for a short while..
   The train was full already. Everyone was eagerly going up and down the aisles trying to find their seats or any seat and you could easily see through the windows that there was a bunch of people and baggage outside yet. One above the other, shouting and swearing, confirming a complete chaos.. Nothing unusual. Another guy moved into the cabin and took a seat next to the window staring thoughtfully outside.. Time passed midnight.. We were all waiting patiently for the sound of the moving wheels.. It was going to be a long trip...
Finally, it began.
   "You play music?", was his first words to me. Funny how music connects people in so many ways.. "I love classical music. I love Beethoven", he said. Then we talked about studies and shared our stories to each other... "We are from Syria", his friend told me, although he didn't speak English. "The country of war", they said and laughed...

. . .
   Things are getting worse there.. There is no future staying in Syria.. // I'm here trying to move to Germany.. There is work there and they will accept us as refugees.. The only problem is...here, they don't let us leave the country, because we have war back to Syria.. // It's very hard for us to move to other countries because of this. // But we can't give up, there is no other way... // Our journey reaching Greece is 70% complete. So we can't stop now.. // First we moved to Lebanon, then to Turkey and now, here.. In Turkey I was almost in despair, I thought we would never reach Greece... // People always cheat on you when they know you are in need and from a country that has war.. They take your money promising that they will help you in some way to move to the next country and then one day they disappear.. // Back in Lebanon they abuse us until they finally let us make it to Turkey. And there, a good guy helped us right when I was about to give up and go back to Syria... //
   Before coming here I was in Crete, the island. Beautiful place.. I tried to fly to Germany with the airplane.. But when I got to the airport there was a policeman asking me to show him my passport. Then I showed him and he looked at it for a minute. He laughed. He said, that's not yours. I told him, "of course it's mine and now you should let me pass, because I have already bought tickets and I'm gonna lose the flight".. He looked at me and then the passport again. He said, that's not yours and I'm sure you took this from Omonia Square. I told him that he was wrong and that I didn't know where or what Omonia is, but he laughed again.. He said, "I can't let you pass". I looked at him without saying anything for a while. Then I told him the truth. That the passport was fake, that I was from Syria and everything. And I told him that he had to let me pass. "I must go to Germany to finish my studies, I can't go back to Syria, I can't go back to war".. Well, he said, "I understand your situation, but I can't let you go, I'm sorry". Then he moved me outside the airport and he gave me a cigarette to smoke on our way out. I was smoking and thinking.. I knew it was all over and that I had to try again from zero.. // The next hours they brought me back to Athens.. // Police got my friend in Albania too some days ago... // But we won't give up. // And now we are going to Thessaloniki to try other ways.. To try in any way we can, until we make it to Germany.. //
   Some people feel that that's too much for them to continue. Some give up and go back, crying with their families, waiting to die. Some people already died jumping in the sea, while they were in ships trying to move to Italy. // I don't wanna go back. // I will try and try and try, until I make it. And I hope God will help me too. // I got 3 brothers and 1 sister back there.. I'm their hope.. // I gotta go to Germany to finish my studies and help my family... //

   ..."I'm planning to go to Germany too after I finish my studies here", I said. He looked at me nodding his head and said, "Then do. For you is much easier than me. Don't lose time.". "How long will you stay here?", I asked.. "I got 1 month to make it. Then, money... So I'll be there by then. I have to.."... The voice announced the next train station.. "Maybe we'll meet each other again in Germany some day, at your concern", he said and smiled...
   We had almost reached Thessaloniki.. The new dawn was already waiting for us there.. He tried to light a cigarette, but a woman warned him not to, shouting from the next cabin.. Although, two others were already smoking in the aisle, near us.. "Life is unfair.", he said. "Life is fair, people are not.", I corrected him joshing. He laughed.
   We were there... "Goodbye my friend, we have to go", he said a while after the train stopped.. We shook hands hastily and wished each other good luck as they were leaving.. I saw him one last time at the train station as I randomly passed next to him. I waved goodbye and kept walking.. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but he didn't got the chance, I never learned...

- He was 26 and his friend was 24. -