There is deep sorrow when a loved one dies. Yet I wonder: why don’t we feel the same grief and respect when we erase someone from the map of our lives, rendering them dead to us? Could it be that all this stems from a selfish relationship we ourselves create? In such a relationship, perhaps it is easier to erase and “murder” human connections without leaving room for deeper emotion.

Have we, ultimately, been taught in such societies to honor and mourn only the truly dead, and not those who, though still alive, have died to us? Perhaps the fault lies in the superficial perception that death is exclusively physical, ignoring how a living person can transform into a ghost lost in the void of memories, buried under the weight of indifference or bitter silence.

We think of death as a singular, natural final act. But how often do we acknowledge emotional death the death of trust or love...

Εκλεψες τον ήλιο και τον έβαλες μέσα σε ένα μικρό κουτί
Κανένας δεν σου ζήτησε κάτι . .

Φυσά ο άνεμος και παρασύρει το κουτί σου.
Είναι ο άνεμος που στέγνώσε τα χθεσινά δάκρυα σου..

Μην εξαφανίζεις το φώς. Μην κρύβεις το σκοτάδι.
Μόλις πάτησες ένα μυρμήγκι άθελά σου.

Η μέρα και η νύχτα χάθηκαν ..
Προσποιήσου ότι δεν ξέρεις και δεν είδες.

Θα μείνεις μια αλησμόνητη ύπαρξη
Κόψε την ψυχή σου σε φέτες..

Πιθανά να πονάς λιγότερο έτσι.
Το λίγο γίνεται πολύ και το πολύ λίγο.

Πληγώθηκες για να πληγώσεις
Πόνεσες για να μισήσεις

Αψυχες ψυχές περιμένουν καρτερικά,
δώσε ένα ρόλο.
Αναζητούν τον κουκλοπαίχτη τους

Κάθε ναι χιλιάδες όχι
ίσως μόνος, ίσως και όχι

Ισως καλυτερα να σε πάρει μαζί του
το φώς και το σκοτάδι

Το κουτί σου διαλύθηκε,
ξεχύθηκε ο ήλιος
και φώτισε τα μυστικά ..
Πάτησες κι άλλο μυρμήγκι.
Κατά λάθος.,

Δεν τρέχει και τίποτα για ένα μυρμήγκι
Μπορεί να...

You stole the sun and placed it in a small box
No one asked you for anything.

The wind blows and snatches your box.
It’s the wind that dried yesterday’s tears.

Don’t vanish the light. Don’t hide the dark.
You just stepped on an ant. Unintentionally.

Day and night were lost…
Pretend you don’t know. Pretend you didn’t see.

You’ll remain an unforgettable existence—
slice your soul into pieces.

Maybe it’ll hurt less that way.
The little becomes much, and the much becomes little.

You were wounded to wound.
You hurt to hate.

Soulless souls wait patiently,
give them a role.
They seek their puppeteer.

Every yes holds a thousand nos
maybe alone, maybe not.

Perhaps it’s better if light and dark
take you with them.

Your box disintegrated,
the sun spilled out
and illuminated the secrets…
You stepped on another ant.
By mistake.

Nothing is lost for an ant.
You might have been one too.

Σε μια κοινωνία που βασίζεται στην εικόνα, την κοινωνική θέση και τα στημένα πρότυπα, οι ανθρώπινες σχέσεις έχουν μετατραπεί σε κακές θεατρικές παραστάσεις.

Φοβισμένοι μεταμφιεσμένοι άνθρωποι, κρέμονται απελπισμένα πάνω απο ρηχές αξίες, πέτρινα υπέρ εγώ, κατασκευασμένες προσωπικότητες ζούν μέσα απο χειριστικές σχέσεις και φοβούνται να δείξουν την ευάλωτη πλευρά τους. Αυτές οι “σχέσεις” δεν είναι πραγματικοί ανθρώπινοι δεσμοί, αλλά ασφαλείς ψευδαισθήσεις αυτοπροβολής πάνω στους άλλους: συζητήσεις με ευγενικά επιφανειακά λόγια, σχέσεις συμφερόντων, κατ΄ ευφημισμό φιλίες που προσδιορίζονται μέσα απο το αποδεκτό και μετριοπαθές μοντέλο των φοβισμένων πέτρινων ψυχών.

Προβάλλουμε “αποστειρωμένες” εκδοχές του εαυτού μας, κομμένες και ραμμένες πάνω στις προσδοκίες των άλλων, ενώ αποφεύγουμε οτιδήποτε αυθόρμητο ή απρόβλεπτο. Σε αυτό το παράλογο θέατρο της σημερινής στιγνής Μακιαβελικής**...

In a society obsessed with image, status, and pre-packaged ideals, human connections have been hollowed into performances. Individuals, molded by vanity and fear, petrified Hyper-Egos, cling to predetermined values curated personas, transactional needs, and a desperate avoidance of vulnerability. These “relationships” are not bonds but illusions of intimacy: conversations reduced to polite small talk, partnerships built on mutual utility, friendships confined to shallow affirmations. We project sanitized versions of ourselves, tailored to fit the expectations of others, while recoiling from anything raw or unscripted. In this theater of the absurd, even love becomes a commodity something to consume, not cultivate.

The tragedy is twofold. First, these shallow exchanges amplify loneliness in ways solitude never could. To be surrounded by people who engage only with your surface who see...

Half love
a slow-burning flame,
A maze of echoes in your brain.

Half love
The other half draws the line,
Parallel prayers to fractured stars

Holds me like a fleeting spark,
A puzzle piece lost in the dark

Half Love
Swapping souls for porcelain chains
shattered before they clasp

Half love,
Half devotion,
Two halves aching to merge into one.

Half love
Boundaries choke the dream
Half scattered in pieces and faded.

Half-love,
and we’re now “safe”
In our fenced forest

Half love
Whispers of what could be true,
A fragile dream I’d risk.

Still, I’d wait.
Still, I’d wait.

Our actions are shaped by our conscious minds, operating within predetermined frameworks. We are bound by fixed obligations that define our existence on this planet.

We often act hypocritically, contradicting our innate nature and disregarding the creator who “unintentionally” placed us in this universe. Destructive, greedy, and rude, with an excessive selfishness that disrespects our surroundings, we aspire to save and elevate our souls. Religions and philosophies, embodying both good and evil, arise from within us to mitigate the uncertainty of our problematic nature.

The constant pressure to conform to societal expectations eventually awakens “glitches” within our subconscious. This is where everything begins to unravel. The notions of good and evil become blurred. Our minds resist the indoctrination imposed upon us, leading to destabilization, rebellion, and ultimate nihilism.

From a young age, I envisioned a harmonious blend of various art forms, where one complements the other, creating a unique and immersive experience for the listener and observer. I’ve always sought to explore collaborations that transcend individual artistic boundaries.

In recent years, I’ve discovered that my daughter has a remarkable talent for capturing the essence of our time through her paintings. This is our first collaborative venture, combining her simple yet evocative paintings with music I’ve created. I hope these few seconds of music and visuals will transport you away from the superficial realities of today.