Aftermath

 I am slowly recovering from the shock, but still like sort of a zombie. I so often feel the urge to dissociate from the person I am, I wish I was somebody else, sombody better.
I more and more understand why we usually don't remember past life incarnations. It would be too much of a burden and keep us from a real new start.

I allways hoped that when time has come, I could bypass the dark river of Lethe and take at least essentials with me. Not any longer.

Heart pain

I have terrible hearth pain, both in physical and metaphoric way. Used the emergency spray twice. Then again, I wish it would  happen.  A heart attack and over. 

But I have to live, because of my mom. She is in mild - advanced stage of dementia and I am the only person that keeps her from being abandoned by a cruel system who has no compassion and no consideration for people of her age and her illness. 

Maybe this is also the reason why I failed to go to Chania. My intentions weren't pure. 

Let's face it: I wouldn't have sold a lot of comics at this festival. I am totally unkonw by the Greek scene and I only had 2 or 3 English books, no one in Greek. So I didn't exactly expect to become a hot table at the artist alley. 

The main reason I looked so much forward for this trip, was the idea of a break out. Away from the daily hell I am trapped in, from the endless working, the overwhelming pain of assisting my mom's decline. 

I wanted to flee, far and away and dive into a totally other world, almost another unverse, where artists unknown o me let me discover their work, while we are under a southern sun, and yes, I wanted to spend 2 days at an emerald beach. 

I wasn't at the height to achieve this breakaway, because my place is here, I don't have any other value than being said help for my mom. The interest for my art and stories is long gone, I am merely working for the drawer now. 

I am so deeply ashamed about this whole failure, I don't have words for.