Took a look at my cell-phone. I tried to reassure my self that my only motive was just to check the time. But as easily as I can lie to other people and hide myself in plain site, it seems I can’t lie to my-self.

Or can I?

I’ve been siting in this table for a bit more than an hour. It wasn’t crowed when I came in, now it is. After all it’s the 14 of February… Despite being Tuesday, there are people that still want to go out and enjoy themselves.

So the million dollar (or euros in my case) question is: Are you outside, sitting alone in front of your laptop writing these lines and “enjoying yourself”?

Since I can’t lie to myself and thus can’t lie to you, the truth is I don’t like myself the past couple of months. Or perhaps I’m just tired of me.

On there other hand I’m going to use my “writing” skills in order to transfer you here. After all isn’t that what us “writers” do. We mentally project an image to the “readers” out there. My images are dark and gloomy but they are still images nonetheless.

So lets say you just walked in here.

It’s about half an hour past seven in the afternoon. It’s 14 of February. It’s a coffee-bar, one of the most visited here. It’s well decorated, one can say Indie or even hipster. After all it is a rock bar. White walls with black and white drawings. Music is not loud since it is early and you can hear the buzz of the voices of the people in here talking. If you concentrate hard enough you might even follow their conversations. And imagine to participate.

Most people are males, in companies of three or four. Only two couples, a young one both with cellphones in their hands and an elder one which is actually talking. And holding hands.

A bit far in the corner is dear old me. In front of my laptop. If this was Facebook or another social media (junk), it would be the time for a selfie. With a sophisticated look hidden behind my black and white hipster glasses. And perhaps a hint of a dark smile (no colors, remember?)

But no thanks. I prefer the anonymity of my writings and the mental image you might have in your head. A mental image of me, if any. Would help a bit though…

Grey hair, hipster haircut and (of course) a beard. Black T-shirt with the cover of a band’s album (a place to bury strangers – exploding head) and B&W glasses as you might have already imagined. An earring in the helix of my left ear and a tattoo (saying “it is ok to break” in tengwar) on my left arm, covering some scars.

That’s me, the unconventional alternative math professor/amateur dj/writer. With bipolar mood swings, currently in one of my lowest lows.

Hiding behind my laptop, writing. And mentally transferring images.

I don’t like me, others may like me, I suppose. But currently I have to live with myself. I’m not doing my best but I’m trying. Perhaps I lie to myself and I enjoy this dark romantic, self destructive image that I project.

But right now I’m tired.

And I need to smile.

And taken care of.

Or perhaps start anew.

don’t know if I’m enjoying my self

The Grey Monster

Some people would say Mondays suck. It’s the start of the working week, it marks the end of the weekend hence the start of the loop work – home – work.

On the other hand, Mondays mark a beginning. I suppose many of you out there had started a sentence, or several sentences such as “I will start doing … on Monday.” But there is another point of view.

The grey monster.

This is the way I see my condition. A way to rationalize it, to separate it from myself.

I watched a movie past weekend called “Daybreakers”. Nothing fancy, just the end of the world, vampires and some poor humans suffering.

But it had a certain point of view that was unique. When it was night-time and a vampire was there, the movie was black and white. When it was daytime (rare) and a human was there, the movie was in color.

One can give a reason for the director using this technique, or many.

Vampires=Soulless monsters=No colors=No feelings… etc.

But it is not my point. After all, meaning is for each and everyone to give, regardless of its existence. Something like “Schrodinger’s Cat”, it’s either there or it isn’t,  depends if you want to give a meaning or not.

I want, but that’s for another entry.

My point is the “greyness”. An entity that’s inside me, consuming colors. Feasting on feelings and pleasures. Replaces everything with shades of grey. So I can’t differentiate time at work from time with friends. Time to rest and time to spend doing maths. Time alone and time with my son.

All feel the same. All seem the same. No sense of continuum or purpose. No sense of rest. Just time after time after time.

That’s what my “Grey Monster” does. Devours colors, feelings and purpose. Takes away meaning.

So either Monday or Friday, it makes no difference.

Just emptiness…


don’t know if I can continue.


Only lovers left alive

It seems like ages ago…

I have seen your “things I want to have above all else”. But it was this Christmas. The OST from the Jim Jarmusch movie “only lovers left alive”. I can still remember the conversation, our conversation…

“Please watch the movie, you will understand the way I feel about you”.

And I did.

You said “You’re the Adam to my Eve. You’re the black and I’m your white. Please remember that”.

And Adam in that movie ordered a gun. And Eve in that movie came and took the gun from his trembling hands. And saved him.

And now I need you. I can’t deal with this alone. There’s no point in knowing there is a light out there if it can’t shed some light in my darkness. I don’t see your love if I know you’re far away. I need it here, near me. All the stories, all my stories that start with the sentence “I need some space” end with a mathematical certainty at me being alone. And empty. And this time I think I won’t have the strength to get up again.

And now, as if amazon is mocking me, the parcel containing the vinyl of the OST just got delivered to my door.

And your birthday is in thirteen days.

And I have no idea what to do.