veli

29 th of June.
St. peter' and paul's name day. Thery still comming people of uknown nationalities and hues but they know the how match in Greek , miles and miles of little tables with cheep tack that gives all an atavistic pleasure of things past. Embroideries produced by machines ,t shirts of every hue, jewlery and Mr Odinga from kenya will sell you african wood carvings and chipo bows and arrows , all in down town Corinth,on St Paul's day. Or i would say the eve of St'Paul's day . The day where the icon does the round and every one follows swarming as ifthey were counting who is and who is not. Embraces and kisses until we meet again next year all wearing their finest best all searching the crowds expectantly. We all follow the icon weary , no one expects any miracles not even the Bishop as he drones on words whose meaning some how is lost . But we all follow with grim determination becouse it is the custom and our customs sets apart. We think that this gives us something . Holding on make us special . it does not matter if we believe it is the appearance of the belief that itis important. Every ten meters there are the beggars, some hold limp children in their arms screeming entraties to break ones heart. then the lame and the old and the ubly and the blind wit the fancy belt silver circles decoretad with eagles ,a mighty fine belt for a blind youg man who advertise his misfortune, holding on to a his minder , gypsies sell candles and insence ,every one wants to sell you something this fine evening, As the icon holders ,push thtough the throngs along the stalls avery thing becomes meaningles and at some point you cease to exist . You are a cell of this mindless crowd following customs past to stay sane. That is why we go with you best mates their conversation is the thred of relity that you need not to bget lost . One shoukd not get lost in a panigiri on the eve of St' Peter' and Paul's day. Cortho

tuesday 24 th of June
The day the sun moves ! Did i hear "pass it on " or ' i'llhave the same " No ignorant ones today is St John's the baptist's birthday.
St' John the Sunturner (Iliotrope)
St' John the phanistis an Rizikaris (the fortuniaris)
The sun become dull and ahudders as he turns and we wake early to see him turn like a wheel. Bad day .
You don't marry
You don't plant or saw
For the day is evil and black and i have lost the spells of the ancestors . I should have sweapt the floors so that the Good Ladies of fortune would have stayed . I should have lit a little bonfire with the May wreath that dried and shrivelled as it absorbed the evil of Corinth and jumped over it .reciting the spells .
"Ileave the evil of this time and go towards goodnes "
Out go the flees
in the folden fleace I did not. I should have called for the beautiful child to carry the "voiceless water ' covered it with cloth of red and hear the prophesies . Then i would have known how evil the day would be . THe sun stopper the sunturner , the day that Mozart died. He won't sing any more for me or dare the hooligan birds into singing duels. Something caused Mozart to die after 4 'o clock. His plastic toy on the floor his little head tucked under a glap of litter paper as if he averted his head from some nameless terror . The same bitter almond taste that poisons us all. I reached and killed Mozart ,becouse it was too hot to take the birds in to the house , becouse the cats hat e the occupants of the house that clear and plant the ir old haunts . So Mozart dies once again. and ther is no song only the echo of the motor bikes and go like demented arrows on the streets and the gruntings of the lorries in St pauls street. Cortho

i know now why Adam and Eve were evicted from paradise ,becouse the bastards left the peelings from he apple on the grass and they spoiled the symetry. i am in paradise , there is a sky that has ten tones of blue a sea that lives and moves an sings and the miserable humans here throw their rubish every where . Plastic bottles , napies, paper hunkies , and fag ends , thousand of fag ends allover the place . There is a little beach where the sun sets in a whorl of red in shame . No one cares The only town on Earth where the people sit with their backs to the sea ,as if it did not exist ,a dead town of nearly dead people and i m not surprised . Some one persuaded the Mayor to let them develop a beach consortium at the end of the town. A tacky development with plastic suvlakia and indifferant music, the tricky bit though was the deal that the town the centre of the town was to be left to die. Welcome to Corinth my brothers and sisters ,set in the most beautiful spot on Earth and raped by the barbarians that dare call themselves Greeks. the little town beach is left to rot amongst the Albanians litter who very rightly treat it as a tip. iam so glad the Albanians came to town , I hope they demolish and filthyfie every thing since no one cares.! Youknow we have little qute girls that wear orange bouse and have nice little mops and they are supposed to sweep up the roads , but not on Saturdays and Sundays what the holy workman and women should have their days of rest . Today i am going to sweep the road in front of the house and i am declaring war on the cars parked on the pavement. This the mystery the most macho police in the world who never move any thing because the majority have a political pull and annul the tickets . Go on pay you taxes you fools . Next time you pay up for your parking tickets think 0f Corinth , and tell it to the Marines . This is the town of ones worst nightmares. i just hope the local mafia cant read this but you never know. So just in case . "Remember kids dont kill the host else the paracite will die " still no one knows it might be better if the crme nobs took over . Now ,you know tjat they are so busy exploiting the poor Russian girls in Lutraki to be bother with the peanuts in Corinth. Girls you say , Yes sir in this time of sexual equality the male agreks of this town have a predilection for foreign girls the young ones abuse them the old ones buy them. Come to greeks the biggest bazzar of Balcan ladie in Europe. Poor Lenin he must be turning in his grave. So much for the crap of our youth the way things were to be better . Better for whoom ? So here i am and before i go i am going to tell it all the scandal and the pain and the scams and the hypocricy of this town a town that sits aside on the ionian fault and is over dew for the big one . The california of Greece only smaller and grubier. Cortho