[No idea what this is about…if you peeps know, please do enlighten me!]

On this day, I grow restless. Let me then unburden my soul.

She said I have an old soul.

Tis strange to think I even have one. A soul, that is. It seems to me a word that belongs to an older time, a time of belief, of myth and wonder.

Is there a place where souls congregate?

Darkness and stillness and silence – “the rest is silence”

I’d blame Hamlet except… I understand him.

The thrill of spiraling darkness.

It frightens me.


Darkness prevails. 

In the end.



Unanswered questions.

– Don’t ask me how.

I have no words to inhabit my purpose.

These are my sparring words.


Thoughts wither before the abyss.

And thus begins the fall.


lessons learned and remembered

My sincerest apologies for the extended absence – I’ve been studying and running about (figuratively) quite a bit. My mother was away for an entire four days and that meant Dad and I had the opportunity to go on some excursions and such. I also had the good fortune to see Death of a Salesman (in Greek) for the first time yesterday.

This week I learnt (and was reminded of) quite a few valuable lessons:

  1. Breaking routine from time to time is good for you. Sometimes even just going for a walk when you’re stressing about something can re-energize.
  2. Saying ‘no’ to an activity because you’re busy or working isn’t going to insult the person who suggests it. Unless you do it all the time.
  3. Don’t compress JPGs – their resolution sucks and it’s irreversible unless you keep copies of the original photos.
  4. Make copies and backup your work.
  5. Staying away from Facebook isn’t actually traumatising; at least, it helped me get more work done. I like talking to my friends, but sometimes this valuable tool we call the Internet can be more of a bane than a boon.
  6. Self-discipline isn’t difficult to implement. For example, if you’ve decided to eat heathier, or start that class you’ve wanted for ages, just do it. (I hope Nike don’t read this…)
  7. The more you read, the more you shape your world.
  8. It’s really not difficult to be kind or helpful to other people. It’s surprising how many people aren’t though.
  9. Sometimes, the answer to something can be staring you in the face; seeing things a little differently may help you recognise that.
  10. Performance is actually a really useful tool for grappling with abstract philosophical problems and for putting everyday troubles into perspective. It has the potential to change lives, and we don’t even realise it half the time because it’s classed as entertainment. And entertainment isn’t supposed to ask difficult questions. Having said that, of course not every single performance is designed for that.
  11. I’ve had the writing ‘germ’ for more than a decade now, but I’ve only just realised that words have completely bewitched me. I never thought of writing as a calling, but it’s starting to look that way. I know what I want to do with myself now (certitude is terrifying, isn’t it?).
  12. While I enjoy making fun of inspirational posters as much as the next person, I saw a great quote on one yesterday: “Να ελπίζεις και πάντα να πιστεύεις στην ελπίδα.” (“You ought to hope and always believe in hope”). Mushy, I know.
  13. I enjoy reading poetry and I actually haven’t forgotten how to write it. I just needed to get over myself.
  14. I enjoy ‘difficult’, thought-provoking performance but I also enjoy cartoons. And that’s ok.
  15. I love the sounds of certain words as they trip off the tongue.
  16. Parents are humans too, although they sometimes behave like an entirely different species.


Apple Stole My Music. No, Seriously.

Terrifying thoughts…


“The software is functioning as intended,” said Amber.
“Wait,” I asked, “so it’s supposed to delete my personal files from my internal hard drive without asking my permission?”
“Yes,” she replied.

Angry man crashing laptop Maybe I’m Not Pressing the Keys Hard Enough.

I had just explained to Amber that 122 GB of music files were missing from my laptop. I’d already visited the online forum, I said, and they were no help. Although several people had described problems similar to mine, they were all dismissed by condescending “gurus” who simply said that we had mislocated our files (I had the free drive space to prove that wasn’t the case) or that we must have accidentally deleted the files ourselves (we hadn’t). Amber explained that I should blow off these dismissive “solutions” offered online because Apple employees don’t officially use the forums—evidently, that honor is reserved for lost, frustrated people like me, and (at…

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uncharted waters: the dark place #writerproblems #amwriting

Today, I went to a dark place… a very dark place.

I was just writing my story about Medea (like y’do), and it took such an unexpected turn, even I didn’t see it coming. I think it was because I was chatting to an acquaintance (a writer) about writing about Medea, and as soon as I mentioned her, he tried to confirm that this was about the wife and notorious child-killer. I pointed out that yes, it’s about her. Maybe I was struck by the instant prejudice, I don’t know, but as soon as I returned to my story, I found the writing started trying to defend her, to make her remotely human (well, more than before, I mean). I realise it’s not a writer’s job to explain or defend why they’ve chosen a specific subject or character – at least, not in the world where the fiction takes place…

I don’t mind characters being hated (at least, not when I intend them to be viciously evil and get up to no good, hehe) but I’ve been trying to make Medea… human or at least, approachable, if you will. Which is probably the wrong idea when talking about someone who did what she is claimed to have done. I dunno… Maybe that’s the problem.

But how do you defend a character with such a dark past and precedent?  I mean, a character so dark and ‘damned’ from the start that everyone hates them? The Medea story is well-known, so I’m trying to approach it in an unexpected way. I guess this is kind of the problem the classical tragedians would have faced, what with rehashing stories everyone knew back in the 5th century BCE. Yet… even if we know the end, does it make Antigone’s death or Hamlet’s ‘to be or not to be’ any less valuable? Not that I’m comparing myself to either Sophocles or Shakespeare in any way – I’m just trying to work out whether I should actually write this story. Perhaps it’s the force of the inevitable, the knowing that ‘it must be done’ that makes them so powerful. That’s what Euripides’ Medea seems to try to convey at certain points – she sees it as the ultimate and the only way to exact her vengeance upon Jason. But how do you make a character like that remotely approachable without stepping into dodgy territory? Sure, he lied and broke the oath he swore before all the Gods (that he wouldn’t cheat on her till they died), but how is that justification for what she did (if we are to fully embrace Euripides’ version, of course)?

Clearly there’s a conflict of ‘crime’ here that doesn’t sit well with the human conscience: breaking a binding, lifetime-long oath to the Gods vs. killing children. I mean, evidently it isn’t even a dilemma worth answering. Then again, wasn’t Abraham ready to kill Isaac in the name of God, to prove how unwavering his faith was?

Geez, this is dark territory… Uncharted waters (at least for me), I tell you!