Diary of a Human Target (Book Two) - The Path Towards the Inside Read online

Monday, 18th March 1991

  I can no longer ignore the facts: Once again, my job is reaching a dead end. The distance St Tryfon - Omonia Square is getting longer and longer because of the increasing traffic jam. It takes me about two hours to get to work every morning and two more hours to return home in the afternoon.

  Moreover, I don't have many clients and there is almost no work during the summer months. As about Pangaea, they haven't given me a pay-rise so far, while their texts are getting more and more time-consuming, as they are rather illegible and full of corrections; therefore, the money is not satisfactory any more. On the other hand, the basic expenses (electric current, social security etc) are increasing, and so is competition: More and more free-lance typists appear every day, opening new, luxurious offices equipped with expensive computers and Xerox machines. Naturally, clients prefer them to me, since I still work on an electric typewriter in a small office. What can I do? I can't even think of looking for a miserable office job in the Classified Ads. Is there a way out? Why is always so much stagnation in my life?

  Saturday, 23rd March 1991

  I went out with the guys yesterday evening. First we went to a creperie, then to a pub in Glyfada. I invited Aphrodite to come with us, but I'm afraid it was wrong: First of all, she delayed us a lot because of her negligence or frivolity; then she nervously monopolized all conversations, mostly saying nonsense. That was not the Aphrodite I know; maybe she was trying too much to make a good impression on the others. The fact is she can't fit in this company, and neither can I.

  Besides, I'm getting more and more certain that something is wrong with these guys: Firstly, they always phone and invite me out just one and a half hour before the meeting time – which means I hardly have the time to get ready; as if they were doing it on purpose, hoping I would say ''sorry, I can't come because it's too late for me now''. Moreover, their behaviour towards me is usually enigmatic or, even, hostile. Yesterday Danae was ironic to me because I gave her back the negatives of some photos without their paper envelope; yet, when she gave me those negatives, she told me she didn't care about them at all. Apostolis joked he would have a child with me only if I paid him one million drachmas; Manos laughed mockingly.

  On the way back, at 1:30 o'clock after midnight, I asked Danae to take me in her car (five persons in all) and leave me at St Tryfon Square -barely a five-minute ride. She frowned and complained that the car was too small to carry five persons! I was ashamed and spoke no more. I am sure Danae doesn't like me at all, and I bet there is a lot of gossip behind my back. I don't think I will go on that trip to Chios with them next week...

  Most people are ghosts: Last night I cried. Truth hurts, especially when you decide to face it after many years of delusion. Something is wrong. Everybody ignores me. This is and this will always be the main problem of my life. All the rest are just natural consequences. Everybody acts as if I didn't exist at all: When I am in the company of others, they either don't let me speak or interrupt me as soon as I start talking -as if I hadn't even begun speaking. My opinion is never taken into account, or it is shrugged off immediately, without the slightest explanation. Whenever I manage to speak openly to friends, I usually regret it at once, since every word I say is misunderstood -as if I were speaking a foreign language. I feel alone in the world, with few contacts only. To be precise, my only contact is my mother, with whom I do have some communication. Actually, she is my link to the human society...

  When I am with others, I always feel a strong sense of alienation. Alien. It is always the same, no matter how I describe it. All people around me seem to be having a great time, spontaneously taking part in all kinds of entertainment. To me, such things have always been an ordeal. Everything seems boring and meaningless to me, because I never find any external response: I write books which will never be published, even if I were willing to pay. At work, I have no say; I am always the typist, just a cog in the machine. I try to accost certain men I like, but they never pay any attention to me. All my life is limited to a strictly personal field of action. Whenever I try to reach the others, the result it a complete failure.

  No matter what I do, it is like shouting in the desert. The desert. This is the real face of my world. People come and go, voices, parties, laughs, throbbing life – but there is nothing here for me. Everything looks too distant and fictitious. All these “fellow-human beings” that surround me, could as well not exist at all. Maybe they do not really exist; they come alive only for a few deceitful words and an enigmatic smile, then they fade away like ghosts. Most people are ghosts, probably dangerous ghosts...

  Saturday, 30th March 1991

  Yesterday evening I set off for the island of Chios, together with my friends Apostolis, Danae and Manos. As soon as I arrived at the port of Piraeus, problems started to appear: The ship with the cabins, in which Apostolis had made reservations, proved not to be going to Chios at all! I definitely wanted to stay in a cabin, since it would be a ten-hour night voyage, so we asked in another ship but there were no cabins left! “Will you come with us, now?” Apostolis asked me, as I was standing before him with my baggage in hand. Strange question: Would he prefer my not coming at all? Finally, we all travelled together on the deck, under my woolen blanket, “like a big, happy family”, as Danae joked.

  This morning, after we disembarked at the port of Chios, a new misfortune was awaiting us: Soon we found out Apostolis' parents had changed the lock to the front door of their house, without his knowing; so, we had to wait in the car from 6:00 to 9:00, for an uncle of his to wake up and give us the new keys. I couldn't help wondering: couldn't Apostolis wake him up a little earlier, given the circumstances? Did we really have to wait in the car for three whole hours?

  Anyway, despite our heavy drowsiness which lasted all day long, we had a pretty good time today: We saw the Mansions and the Monastery, and then we went for a walk along the seaside. Late at night we met some cousins of Apostolis in a nice cafeteria at the port.

  Sunday, 31st March 1991

  This morning we visited the New Monastery (Nea Moni). The landscape is wild but fascinating, studded with gray rocks and ruined medieval houses. I am so close to him, and yet so far... So wonderful, yet so sad... Could it be better this way, for some strange reason?

  When the night came, I dreamt of George Franzis: We were drinking coffee together in a cafeteria, he looked gorgeous, as always; we were having a wonderful time together but, when I asked to meet him again, he refused! Interpretation: Probably George Franzis signifies Apostolis (they look alike), with whom I go out as friends, but he doesn't want anything else from me...

  Holy Monday, 1st April 1991

  In the morning we visited Daskalopetra and took photographs in front of the big rock where Homer is supposed to have been teaching. Later, we had lunch in the seaside town of Lagada; When we finished and got out of the restaurant, I asked the guys to take a photo of the small picturesque river, full of small boats, which flows into the sea. They all refused in unison, suggesting “we should leave it for tomorrow, when there will be more light.” However, on the way back to the city of Chios, we stopped the car in the middle of nowhere in order to photograph a couple of blue church domes in the distance. There was “more light” there...

  Later, at home, Manos questioned a saying of Nietzsche written on Danae's diary. The lady just burst into tears (she is just not accustomed to being questioned) but soon she got over it. Later, we had a discussion about life after death, and I was naïve enough to declare that I can't feel sorry when somebody dies. “It seems to me you are a blockhead!” Apostolis told me, supposedly joking. Anyway, I didn't burst into crying.

  Holy Tuesday, 2nd April 1991

  Once again we had lunch in Lagada; this time we went to a taverna, where we ate fish and had a nice time. Yet, neither this time did we photograph the river because it was “dirty” and “very ugly”, as they all said mockingly. Nevertheless, on the way back to the city, Apostolis asked Danae to stop the car, again in the middle of nowhere, so that he could take some photos of sea-gulls down at the seaside, about 300 metres away. “It's no big deal” I dared say and Danae applied the brakes all at once, stopping the car near the precipice. By the time we were out of the vehicle, the birds had flown away, so there were no photos taken. Anyway, it is now crystal clear to me that these persons don't take me into account at all, because they put me down as a complete idiot.

  In the evening we went to the port and bought the tickets back home. Although I had explained to Apostolis I wished to be in a cabin this time, he mentioned nothing about it to the travel agent. Manos laughed mockingly and I didn't protest anyhow...

  Holy Wednesday, 3rd April 1991

  Return to Athens, that is ten endless hours of absolute boredom in the chill of the night. Nevertheless, I am experiencing an awakening as I am now here, all alone on the deck, while the others are crouching on their chairs of the economy class, after a brief quarrel I had with that wiseacre of Manos: It all began when the gentleman mocked that my jacket had been reduced to a “dusting cloth”. Then, I went to the bar and took a cup of coffee; as soon as I returned, he told me tauntingly:

  “Be careful or you will spill it on us!”

  “Now that you say it, it could as well happen! It's a matter of basic psychology! You claim to know a lot about psychology, so I suppose you know this too!” I replied.

  “Oh, don't start again!” complained Danae.

  Moments of truth in absolute silence: These guys are certainly not my friends, and they never wanted me to join them on this trip. Not only during these days, but also whenever we meet in Athens they constantly make fun of me, they treat me as if I were a retard, and they ridicule every word I say.

  It's high time I cut down on jokes and co
nfessions to these persons, and I won't ask them the slightest favour ever again. For the time being, I will keep on seeing them, since I still need a circle of friends to go out with -but I won't be the same anymore: I will be serious, reticent, a diva.

  Holy Thursday, 4th April 1991

  Night Adventure: Alexander is angry at me and he is chasing me along the streets. He knows I am not loyal to him, since I keep my own ideas instead of obeying him completely. In the meanwhile, my parents have discovered everything about my interest in metaphysics and Janus. While running, I end up at the edge of a steep precipice. The guru is approaching threateningly, and I am beset with agony. At that moment, I realize I am dreaming; I am looking at my hands, according to Castaneda's instructions for lucid dreaming, yet everything looks blurred and the sun is setting fast; however, I finally manage to fly away before Alexander catches me. Interpretation: Guilts and fear for the guru; or, maybe, a psychic attack of his against me? ۩

  In the afternoon cousin Niki, together with her husband and her two daughters, paid a visit to my sister. I, as usual, ran to join the party, ignoring the wry faces. At a moment that smart aleck of Costas said he got married young because he didn't want to lose his time and his life aimlessly; then he added that “singles suffer from softening of the brain” -a clear innuendo against me. I felt bad but I pretended I hadn't taken the offense. I guess, from now on I had better avoid parties consisted of couples...

  Monday, 8th April 1991

  I have been feeling the need of living alone lately. There is no peace and quiet in our house: As soon as I return from work and wish to relax and have a nap for an hour, here comes my sister with her two sons -both handfuls aged two and six now- and she parks them here, till late at night. Therefore, I explained my parents that I'm too old to be still living with them and that I need some privacy; then I asked them to inform the tenants of the first floor we want the apartment for ownership-occupancy.

  “But... is this the right time for such initiatives?” wondered Antony, as soon as he heard about it. I can't say he is wrong: We won't be getting a rent any more, the times are hard indeed, but what can I do? I need to have my own space.

  This afternoon my parents finished moving house. So, from now they will be occupying the first floor, while I will be living alone at the ground floor. When the night came, I watched an American comedy on TV. I laughed differently, freely, exuberantly. Alone at last!

  Saturday, 13th April 1991

  Night outing to Plaka together with Apostolis, Danae, Costas and Manos. We had dinner at a creperie, then we started looking for a pub. We searched all over Athens, but the lords liked none; we reached Glyfada in Danae's car, we searched again, to no avail. I decided to invite them to my house, so as to save the night. They accepted but they all looked enigmatic, as if hiding a secret or something. Danae suggested we should do a relaxation exercise, they all agreed happily (which got on my nerves; did we really have to?), then there was still and quiet, then we chatted till three o' clock in the morning. I think they are all obsessed with the guru. At a moment they claimed they couldn't understand what I was saying, but I avoided to ask why and how; instead I kept my mouth shut -much better this way...

  Saturday, 21st April 1991

  The Sum of all Crises: Apostolis has gone steady with Danae! Last night, when we all went out together, as soon as I saw all those gestures of intimacy between them, I dropped from the clouds! I've never felt so miserable in my life! Their happy smiles and touches of affection, as they were walking hand in hand, caused me an insupportable feeling of jealousy for a happiness I am never meant to experience! As they said, they decided to become a couple the night of the 13th April, when I invited them to my place! They went steady inside my house!

  I feel disappointed and supplanted, however I know well that the curious thing would be if Apostolis had preferred me instead of Danae. The truth is I am not attractive as a woman, since my body is still too thin, without any curves. On the other hand, there are other women who are a lot uglier than me (for example short and obese, full of rolls of fat under their skin), yet they marry the most handsome men. Besides that, my behaviour has no “feminine grace”: I never resort to mincing or simpering, it doesn't come natural to me; on the contrary, I often present interests unacceptable for a female, such as parapsychology, life after death, the multidimensional universe etc, and men hate me for this. However, neither this can justify my loneliness, since the world is full of vixens who inspire crazy passions, despite their awful character.

  I would say there is an unconscious, mutual repulsion between me and men: They dislike me and I avoid them spontaneously. It seems there is a mysterious, invincible power inside me, which prevents me from having relationships with men, and the older I get the more I trust this power. Anyway, I've never had strong sexual desires: I have never pursued sex, I haven't masturbated even once in my whole life! I used to have some sexual fantasies with men, but they are getting rarer and rarer. They just don't come to me any more. In fact, I often think how simpler, clearer, nicer life would be, if sex didn't exist at all!

  Thoughts like the above lead me to old, forgotten realizations: I do not belong to the human species. I am something different, and this alien nature of mine is getting more and more apparent, day after day. In all likelihood, this is the deepest reason why the human herd always has always been so hostile against me, constantly trying to keep me away from their world. Contrary to what Alexander trumpets forth, not everything can be explained according to “engrams on the subconscious”. Especially my case in entirely inexplicable: what is natural for humans, is not natural for me and vice versa! I do not belong here. I have fallen to Earth, God knows where from...

  Sunday, 5th May 1991

  Night Adventure: Inside a dimly lit corridor there is a black metal chair. At the centre of the seat there is a round hole. The chair doesn't have a back; instead, it has a metal staff which ends in a helmet. People come and go continuously along the corridor, without noticing the chair. Only seldom does someone sit on it; then, the metal helmet descends to their head and puts them to torpor. In the end, the person is melted, absorbed and lost inside the hole.

  A team of researchers, amongst whom I recognize Apostolis, try to find out why people disappear in that corridor. Of course, nobody suspects that a piece of furniture is to blame. However, there comes a time when nobody walks along that corridor any more. The chair is left all alone in the corridor, thinking: When will a human being come here, so as to keep me company? I feel so lonely; maybe, someday I will find somebody who's like me...

  Thursday, 23rd May 1991

  This evening we performed a telepathy experiment at Janus: While meditating, I “saw” an empty vase, almost round in shape. The object Alexander had chosen and placed on the reception table was an empty vase of oval shape...

  After the lesson, Vanessa, Aphrodite and I went to a fast-food restaurant and discussed all kinds of interesting subjects, but mostly we expressed our doubts about the spiritual teachings which propagandize the so-called “breaking of the Ego”; they remind of medieval obscurantism, since they prohibit any question regarding the guru's authority.

  Anyway, I wonder: What is really achieved with “breaking the Ego”? I talked to the girls about an experiment I have recently carried out with myself: I took care so as to feel, think and act according to Alexander's teachings, that is without the slightest vestige of selfishness. Pretty soon I started to ignore all my interests, needs, desires, emotions, because -according to the guru- “all these things satisfy the Ego, so they are contrary to spiritual development”. The result: If I had insisted on this for a few more days, I would have had a nervous breakdown, I would have even started thinking about suicide! Moreover, my self-esteem had diminished to a minimum: I had begun to believe that I was good for nothing and that everything I did was pointless since it served my own satisfaction. I was sinking deeper and deeper into apathy and that looked like liberation -at first.

  All things considered, what can this fallacy of “breaking the Ego” actually cause to the human soul? Probably, it destroys other things too, apart from selfishness. Maybe it bears a serious danger for the soul itself; perhaps the ultimate purpose of all religious systems is the disintegration and fusion of souls into something else. Apart from obedience to an “authority”, all these systems claim that: “When you finally achieve to break your Ego, then other, superior energies will come inside you” … “When there is no Ego, man unites with God”, and so on. I don't know, but this sounds like a method of demonic possession: What really comes inside, when there is no Ego?

  Saturday, 29th June 1991

  This evening we are expecting visitors, namely aunt Mary from Piraeus, together with a would-be groom whom she wishes to make me a match with. For this reason, following my mother's stringent advice, I have been to the hair-dresser's, I am in my best togs and I have made my glasses scarce.

  The bell rings, we answer the door and a big group of persons appear at the threshold: apart from aunt Mary and the “groom”, there is cousin Diamanta and the bloke's mother, holding a cake as a present. At first sight, the guy doesn't seem to be a bad case: His name is Michael, he is tall, lean, well-dressed, he looks kind and, as far as we know, he has a permanent job in a big company. Yet, his face is kinda ugly, it has the shape of a slipper with a huge nose in the centre. “Never mind, he is okay; whenever you two do it, you will put a pillow on his face and everything will be fine,” jokes my sister.

  We all sit at the living room, we have a pleasant conversation, the atmosphere is positive; at a moment I dare put on my glasses so that I can see faces and things clearer. I only hope the spectacles won't repel the would-be groom. Finally, we arrange to meet again next Saturday.
>
  Saturday, 6th July 1991

  The great day has come and aunt Mary insists on my calling on her, at her house in Piraeus, many hours before meeting Michael. I accept willingly, although I can't understand why. I arrive there at about 3:00 o' clock in the afternoon, and she welcomes me happily; we have a long, spirited discussion, and she finds the opportunity to offer me some discreet advice about how to seduce the “groom”. Anyway, time goes by pleasantly till it is 5:50 o' clock, when Michael turns up and we both leave in his car.

  To my great surprise, instead of going directly to a cafeteria the two of us, the bloke informs me he is invited to a colleague's wedding at 6:00! Therefore, I have to follow him to church, attend the wedding ceremony of a total stranger, and wait in a long queue so as to congratulate the newly-weds. When this is all over and we are ready to go, here comes one of Michael's colleagues, a dark-skinned disagreeable guy, and sticks to us like a leech. He suggests we all three go for a coffee and Michael agrees immediately.

  “Sorry, Yvonne; I couldn't imagine something like this would happen!” the ''groom'' excuses himself in a low voice.

  So, the three of us go and sit at a nearby cafeteria, where we have a rather boring conversation. At a moment, I try to start a more interesting subject, mentioning that the traffic jam in the streets is getting worse and worse. “Oh, so you think a lot!” says Michael in genuine wonder, as if witnessing a rare phenomenon. In the meanwhile, his friend has probably begun to get wind of what's going on, and he looks at us askance.

  ... I had no objection to meeting the “groom” again and showed it to him clearly. However, he won't come in contact with me ever again. I suspect that the only thing he wanted from me was to show me off to his colleagues as a girlfriend.

  Monday, 15th July 1991

  Despite the fiasco of my first book, in mid-April I finished my second fantasy novel, titled “Final Nemesis”. I phoned the publisher Halaris and told him about it (before realizing he had been stringing me along), but he didn't even deign to have a look at it: “You work too much; don't think you will be famous so fast!” was his answer.

  After a lot of personal research, and having watched a relevant reportage on TV recently, it was finally clear to me it isn't easy at all for a new writer to be recognized. New authors take it as granted that they will pay for the publication of their first four books at least; as the about royalties, they are usually close to zero, even for the most distinguished writers. Therefore, seeing there was no other way to have the job done, I decided to pay for the publishing expenses of “Final Nemesis”.

  I went to numerous publishing houses asking about prices, but they all wanted 500,000 drachmas (eight monthly salaries) for a simple paperback book; they refused to put the name of their firm on it, and as about distribution, it was out of the question. Only the typographer Jim Marcopoulos, Chryssa's boss, accepted to print my book at a price of 250,000 drachmas only; as about my cousin, she reassured me the book would be “very nice, very fine”.

  Today, however, when I was invited to the printing house so as to see the final product, I found out it has nothing to do with what we had agreed! First of all, the cover is just a simple photo of a picture painted by me; it hasn't been computer processed, as we had said, and the result is rather poor. As about the interior, the paper is too thin, almost transparent, the letters too small, the lines too close, the margins too narrow. This is not at all what we had agreed! Even I, the author, find it too difficult to read this thing, let alone a reader! Nevertheless, I paid the agreed sum without making the slightest complaint...

  Monday, 16th July 1991

  This morning the situation got even worse: I had to collect the 1,000 copies of this unacceptable book and somehow transport them to my office, no further than 500 metres away. For this reason I had to find a taxi; I stood on Pireaus avenue for about twenty minutes, but it proved to be abnormally difficult to find one since, strangely enough, all taxis went to the opposite direction! Finally, I decided to act cunningly: I crossed the road, I stopped a taxi, I got on and told the driver to stop outside the printing house for a minute, without explaining why. As soon as he saw the ten packets of 100 books each he would have to carry in his trunk, he almost got a stroke! Next moment, when I explained to him he should change direction and head for Omonia Square, he looked at me sadly, without even finding the courage to protest. Finally, as soon as we reached Omonia Square, he told me to get off, refusing to drive 100 more metres to my office!

  Consequently, I had to leave the ten bulky packets alone in the middle of the Square, and run to my office so as to get a small trolley I happen to have there. This trolley could hold no more than two packets of books, so I had to repeat the itinerary five times in order to carry them all. In the meantime, hundreds of passers-by watched my hardship in wonder, however the only thing that mattered to me then was to finish the job as soon as possible. Eventually, I managed to carry all ten packets to my office without losing any...

  Chapter 3: Distractions