The end of the world? What world? What end?

A rainstorm in Buenos Aires. It’s summer here, in December. This place smells, sounds and feels so much like Athens, I was so taken aback and flooded with sensory memories and ghosts. Of that 2009 Summer of death. Wish I could share B.A. with you.

In a car, en route to the airport. Flying to Buenos Aires tonight, for a shoot.
So exhausted from a kind of life that is devoid of tenderness. Alla…

When lilacs return in spring,
Will you?
When larks in the meadows sing,
Will you?
When clouds of a summer storm dissolve
And starlight shimmers through,
Will you?
When wild geese of autumn fly,
Will you?
When hearth fires of winter die,
Will you?
Time rushes by.
Memories fade.
Dreams never do.
I will be ever true.
Will you?

When wild geese of autumn fly,
Will you?
As I lay there wond’ring why,
Will you?
Time rushes by.
Memories fade.
Dreams never do.
I will be ever true…
Will you?

this

With facebook, twitter, instagram, etc, one’s own website is quite a private place nowadays. I write things in here, no one sees. It’s a diary. Oh look; let me take a quick picture from bed. I’m in bed.

That’ s the view. Looking uptown on Park Avenue.

There is a pain in my leg. It feels very nice, because it was your birthday today.

All I (can) do in this city, is be constantly preoccupied with creating things, making things, thinking things up. But in this city, a whole year later, I have not a single good friend. Or a spark with someone. It’s quite brutal.

Spent the last 4 days on my laptop, re-designing my website, while Dark Shadows played in the background. I’m on episode #0327. I am possessed by DS. I wish I lived there, but I kind of do.

Fort Lauderdale airport. My mind with you.

I have the most bourgeois self preservation instinct.

einai san
skepsou pws
eisai katw apo tin epifaneia tou nerou
exeis kanei vatheia voutia
kai sou exei teleiwsei to oxygono
kai anevaineis pros stin epifaneia
kai ksereis oti ekei tha pareis anasa
kai olo argei na ftaseis stin epifaneia
tin vlepeis, to fws andanakla panw tis
kai olo argei ki allo, na ftaseis
kai einai konda
alla den ftaneis
kai koitas tin andanaklasi kai strefeis me epimoni
to swma sou na ftasei san velos
kai na skisei tin epifaneia na pareis anasa
alla den ftaneis
kai olo kai argei
i stigmi pou tha anapnefseis
kai exei perasei wra
kai aplws koitas to fws pou skaei stin epifaneia
kai prepei na ftaseis
alla den ftaneis,
olo de ftaneis.

etsi moiazei, kathws mou leipeis toso kairo.

Hurricane Sandy, etc, no power, heat water, toilet, etc, cry me a river, I went to Brooklyn for a week, shoots cancelled, etc, pff, yawn.

Another riveting interview.
[clic to read]

“- I want you to get to know me.
– But you don’t kidnap people so they’ll get to know you.”

yes, you do.

[clicki]

In this month’s Marie Claire, an interview and pictures. Riveting.

[clicki]

Flew to Toronto for the TIFF screening of Dead Europe. A horrible, dark trip.
You could say, a bird had managed to find sufficient food, to poop on me.

[clicki]

Spent a few surreal days on a strange location in the Mid West doing some of this.

[cliki]

i may sneak in as you sleep, and write on your body.

“Ο συναισθηματικός τρόπος που αισθάνεται κανείς.”

[cliki]

‘”Ενας γέρος που αντικαταστάθηκε.”

Άλλη μια ευτυχισμένη νύχτα, στη μνήμη.

[cliki]

you know that feeling where you’re balancing very close to a ledge, nothing to hold on to
and it’s really just a matter of the mildest breeze, where you will fall?

*clicki*

“it’s only forevah, not long at all, lost and lonely, that’s underground, underground.”

Up at 6am. Nightmares again. By nightmares I mean you.

ceiling, now.

spazing at Jones beach.

[cliki]