Everything and Nothing – Day Two

eternal love 2

Thought of the Day by Maria Fokas

A Stolen Childhood 

Does life repeat itself? In the news this morning, I heard that bullying is now a criminal offense, but in the States, all those years ago, it wasn’t. No one likes talking about having been bullied. Sharing moments of being degraded is seldom comforting. Maybe it’s difficult to talk about things we believe we have no control over. Hearing the news brought back a memory; not as cruel in comparison to many stories out there, but to a nine-year old, there is no such thing as a comparison to a worse story.

My story has to do with a clan of three, and stones. For a long time, walking home from school was terrifying. When those stones hit my body, it would feel like bee-stings; I even pretended that they were – but what stung the most was their mocking giggles. They wanted me to cry, but I never gave them that. So many times, I wanted to turn around and face them, to ask them why, but I never did. And when I’d arrive home, my mother would always ask me the same question, and my reply would always be, “Fine” – And on random days, I wondered; which part was my fault.

Most people describe their childhood as the golden years. Does such a time exist? For me, it was a time I wanted to escape from; and although I went on to Junior-high, to become an all-star athlete, those detrimental moments built walls which never came down.

To a child, the first years of their life seems to drag on forever; We cannot assume that they’ll eventually ask for help. Children are not a miniature version of us; they live in a different world, which they eventually grow out of. And if you believe that their future is essentially determined by the University they’re accepted into, I beg to differ.

Catalytic moments: Go back; a child is creating sentences to discover meanings in an overwhelming world. Go back; a child can only feel their worth by looking into the eyes of others. Go back; your child cannot find the words to tell you that they are ashamed.

So it’s not when they’re choosing the majors of their University degrees which determines their future; it’s when you’re holding their hand as they’re struggling to belong to a world they don’t understand.

– Life doesn’t have to repeat the parts that are broken.

Scars Set in Stone

corfu 3

Scars Set in Stone by Maria Fokas

Just because you buried our journey
Does not make it disappear
Just because you have forsaken me
Does not mean you never loved me
That I have succumbed to defeat
Does not mean I wanted to leave
Your silence never depicted indifference
As my smile did not prove a trace of hope

Of stories which trouble the heart
In words which sicken the soul
Everywhere an abundance of woe:
A half-finished love affair bound to crucifixion
A misdeed triggered to destroy a kind gesture
A deserted dream to leverage false sense of balance
Courage disintegrates in glass boxes of loose ties
Day races by as night pricks through the cracks of dawn

Oh, but to deny one’s place in this world
That would be the greatest crime of all

© Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved/Photograph by Maria Fokas [Paleokastritsa – Corfu]

Aylan’s last Day

Helen Savva illustration and digital Art 2

Aylan’s last Day by Maria Fokas

How can this be the best of all possible worlds?
Ashamed – The absurdity of life is nothing novel, but what is? Is it the indifference; the way we claim to care; the way we portray our humanity; the helplessness we’ve come accustomed to?

Maybe it’s the way in which our thoughts numb up, while there is still a chance to make things right. A knot in my throat; I almost cry; but rage takes the place of sorrow – Aylan Kurdi’s last day; an image of utter failure – a tragic death triggered by our incompetence.

I am Ashamed!

– Illustration and digital Art by Helen Savva © Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved/ Graphic Design


I wonder

I WonderI Wonder by Maria Fokas

Broken dreams in a recycle bin. Caring with violence; no means to an end. How tragic to claim trust in such a way; to wrap up your love for all kinds of occasions. Mistakes which keep repeating themselves all pile up, for no one to see. The law which keeps conforming to twist the truth – protecting the enemy.

 I wonder about all these things. 

I wonder how it all started, and if it will ever end. I wonder how to stop it, then laugh at my arrogance to ever think I could. And I give up, like a coward would. To fall back on my ignorance; a safe place to be, is this a lesser version of me? I cannot decide. So, I take a trip to the center of town, to walk by shops I dare not go in, and I wonder why.