Σχετικά με την κατάσταση που περιγράφεται εμμέσως στο προηγούμενο post:

Δημιουργούνται παρεξηγήσεις οπότε καταφεύγω στο εξής:

Μέσα σε όλη αυτή την παράνοια, να μην ξεχάσουμε να ευχαριστήσουμε κάποιους ιδιαίτερους ανθρώπους του συστήματος που απέχουν ΥΠΕΡΒΟΛΙΚΑ από τη συνήθη τρέλα!

Ονόματα δεν χρειάζονται, ξέρουν ποιοί είναι!!!

Σωτήρης.

it's the last time you're going to hold a gun, the last time you're going to be there every time they need you, the last time you are going to do their silly training, the last time you're going to have a bath with ice cold water, the last time you visit their turkish toilets, the last time you keep yourself hidden inside this stupid office, the last time you search for hidden people, the last time you'll wake up at 1.00 and 5.00 in the morning to do the usual round, the last time you are going to eat their food, the last hours in this strange island, the last hours that separate you from a beautiful partial freedom... and so lightly, the last time you were punished for smoking in a restaurant... FUCK YOU ANYWAY!

FUCK YOUR GUNS

FUCK YOUR FOOD

FUCK YOUR INSUFFICIENT KNOWLEDGE

FUCK YOUR COLOURS

FUCK YOUR TRAINING

FUCK YOUR TOILETS

FUCK YOUR MINES

FUCK YOUR TNT EXPLOSIONS

FUCK YOUR METAL DETECTORS

FUCK EVERYTHING

thank you.

so. yesterday. we had a trip. a space shuttle. somewhere in deep space, above rhodes and the rest of europe. cheap champagne mixed with cassis. kir royale. wine. future sounds. dance with alien creatures. we had to do an emergency landing near the medieval town of Tsairi. we crossed a green field. running like crazy. under a new year's starlit sky. the dawn. somewhere near sweden. or not? which planet was that? we jumped over a war fence. we managed to get to our beds, just to be counted by some extraterrestrial military guardians. some of us didn't manage. for once again in my life i got away with it all messed up. that's the living.

for all the girls that celebrate their name today.

you know who you are.

sot.