ΛΕΥΤΕΡΙΑ ΣΤΙΣ ΣΥΝΕΙΔΗΣΕΙΣ.

if marijuana is a drug,so is nutella

you're not daydreaming. you're sleepwalking .

this is the season of imagination,

this is the season where the odors are sweet

and the memories are colorful.

it is a natural extacy 

it makes me creative 

and everything make perfect sense 

all the birds are singing melodies for lovers

all the trees are celebrating their ability of standing naked through the winter 

all the rivers are becoming a place to play and not to cry .

and all the faces are beautiful because they smile.

this is the season where 

day dreaming is legal
and it's absolutely normal
to have a 3 hours conversation 

about a unicorn u saw the other day 

desire comes and goes,
and eveytime she moves
u are in trouble

there is a rainbow inside of me

but whenever it explodes 

i vomit concrete

η φαμίλια

we will always be a part of somebody
and in my opinion it doesnt matter if our part is located in the present or in tha past,
what matters is that we got the chance to be a part in ones life

το περιθώριο θέλει ζόρι και κουπί
και δεν μπορείς πάντα να κάνεις το παπί .

what didn't kill me,
made me hide in a corner
and draw the shades
so no one can see in.

and you know,
that is so majestic,mad and smooth
because is temporary
right?

i was 14 and i was fearless,
my lust for life was beyond the sky
i was risking it all for a real momment
i was a moving possitivity
and this chaotic world
have been making me feel thirsty
to explore..
to explore it all
i was burning inside out..
and this mad world was singing every night in my ear lullabies
all made of water,pure love and sky.
i couldnt help it..
i just couldnt.
so i walked on the world without shoes,
just to feel it
to get in touch
and i regret nothing,
cz every scar i have on my feet,
was worth bleeding for.
and it's been almost a decade,world,
and i may talk differently and
choose different things,
but i've never chaned what i want myself to be.
please world,
keep on lighting my fire

you kill it because its destractively beautiful

you kill it because it's love makes you weak.

you shout when somebody speaks the ugly truth,

you run when you are wrong

you are always on a run,

for the wrong things...

you will forever stand in the same place,

because you keep missing your life  

for your very big Ego!

Μὲς στὴν ὑπόγεια τὴν ταβέρνα

,μὲς σὲ καπνοὺς καὶ σὲ βρισιές,
(ἀπάνου ἐστρίγγλιζε ἡ λατέρνα)

ὅλη ἡ παρέα πίναμε ἐψές,
ἐψές, σὰν ὅλα τὰ βραδάκια,

νὰ πᾶνε κάτου τὰ φαρμάκια.

Σφιγγόταν ὁ ἕνας πλάι στὸν ἄλλο

καὶ κάπου ἐφτυοῦσε καταγῆς,

ὤ! πόσο βάσανο μεγάλο
τὸ βάσανο εἶναι τῆς ζωῆς

Ὅσο κι ὁ νοῦς ἂν τυραννιέται
ἄσπρην ἡμέρα δὲ θυμιέται!(Ἥλιε καὶ θάλασσα γαλάζα

καὶ βάθος τοῦ ἄσωτου οὐρανοῦ,ὤ! τῆς αὐγῆς κροκάτη γάζα
γαρούφαλλα τοῦ δειλινοῦ,
λάμπετε-σβήνετε μακριά μας,
χωρὶς νὰ μπεῖτε στὴν καρδιά μας!)

Τοῦ ἑνοῦ ὁ πατέρας χρόνια δέκα
παράλυτος - ἴδιο στοιχειὸ
τοῦ ἄλλου κοντόμερη ἡ γυναῖκα
στὸ σπίτι λιώνει ἀπὸ χτικιό,
στὸ Παλαμήδι ὁ γυιὸς τοῦ Μάζη
κ᾿ ἡ κόρη τοῦ γιαβῆ στὸ Γκάζι.

-Φταίει τὸ ζαβὸ τὸ ριζικό μας!
-Φταίει ὁ θεὸς ποὺ μᾶς μισεῖ!
-Φταίει τὸ κεφάλι τὸ κακό μας!
-Φταίει πρώτ᾿ ἀπ᾿ ὅλα τὸ κρασί!
«Ποιὸς φταίει; Ποιὸς φταίει;... κανένα στόμα
δὲν τὅβρε καὶ δὲν τὄπε ἀκόμα.

Ἔτσι, στὴν σκοτεινὴ ταβέρνα
πίνουμε πάντα μας σκυφτοί,
σὰν τὰ σκουλήκια κάθε φτέρνα
ὅπου μᾶς εὕρει, μᾶς πατεῖ:
δειλοί, μοιραῖοι κι ἄβουλοι ἀντάμα!
προσμένουμε, ἴσως, κάποιο θάμα!

η σκέψη τι είναι?
το αφεντικό η ο υπηρέτης?

http://www.lifo.gr/mag/columns/4771 - a good one

powerful stuff
make weak people
think they are strong,