My very first encounter with cuckou people was this guy who used to wonder around,always looking too busy going somewhere and I never quite understood where he was going,never asked him really,only that he was busy doing that.
My mom used to stop and talk to him in the street,some times he would even be invited to come inside and have lunch with us,sometimes he wanted to,smetimes he didn't and he would just rush off again.
I remember his mouth moving and making noises but the times I knew what he was saying were the times he did a pantomine of some sort.
I don't know why mom liked him so much.To me he was either too dirty with muds all over his shirt and pants or too strange.Maybe she was feeling sorry for him or maybe she really enjoyed those apples he used to bring on his way back from his walk.
25 years later I am a cookou my self.
I leave home with the headphones of the i pod plugged firmly in my ears,going out for a jog or a ride with my bike.
Most of the times I don't want to go out and especially I don't want to get out to run,sweat and feel the awful pain in my knees that always goes and then eventaully comes back.
But I read somewhere that even the best athletes of the world are not always extatic about it either.
Even Murakami himself admitted on "What i talk about when I talk about running" that sometimes it is impossible for him to put one feet after the other.
But that's how it is.One feet after another.
And you go out there.
When I am happy I get my camera with me and I keep searching for the right picture,a nice shot ,light and shadows.
When I am not happy I got the shadows in me.
I am not dirty,there are no muds and dust on my shorts but I know.
I am a freaking coukou person.I collapsed ,I was in a movie,starring of course and then there were all these people talking to me on tv.
And then everyone wanted to kill me.I had done something wrong,something evil and the whole world,even my computer was telling me:Kill your self or we will get yaaaaa!!!!
Of course I said yes to medication.My mom said yes.My 2 aunts said yes and I also have an uncle who said yes.A statistic wonder?I don't know.
Coincidence?I am sure not.That's how we deal with our problems.
There's this place I like to go and run .In the port side there's a road,no cars are allowed thank God...traffic in Greece can get coukou as well,a road that finishes in a lighthouse.There's sea on your right and a big wall of concrete on your left and plenty of space in between to run.
Some people go there and write stuff on the wall.
They definetely want the president of the local football team dead and they always find new words and drawings just to tell him that way "Fuck off you stupid moron".
Some other people ,ex drug users draw a boat and a sea,lot's of people on that boat and there's one in the water.And they throw him a life jacket.
With strong bright colors on the grey cement.
They throw that guy who's fighting in a blue bright sea a life jacket .That's the right thing to do,right?But people don't always do that.
I know I would.But people don't always do that.
Submitted by M.Sax on