GRIOTS _day 4

Pictures from fucked up generation blog

Tuesday evening, 9 December around 10 o'clock. After visiting my worrying parents , I got the metro to the center to meet a couple of friends. The metro was empty, almost dead. The few passengers were looking at each other in suh a way, like they were trying to recognize who was the ''rebel'' , who was the undercover cop, the anarchist , the fascist and so on..
The train did not stop at Syntagma and Panepistimio stations , as at that moment riots were taking place there. We crossed slowly the empty platforms. I went out at Omonoia square and immediately I was hit by the gaz. Outside it was worse. How many tons did they use? Do they have more?
The picture of Omonoia sq., usually one of the most crowdy places in town, was kind of science fiction. I could hardly count five people being around, me included. Almost no public lights at all. My ''rendez vous'' was supposed to be towars the panepistimiou str. where at this moment the fumes of the gaz were worst. I called my friend and told her to stay at home because there was no way to meet us there. There was no way for the moment for me too to reach her at her house; i had to cross the ''battle zone'' and the gaz was too much. I started to walk at Athinas street, which was completely dead, straight ahead to Monastiraki, where i knew that a bar was open and a friend was to play some music there. I doubted that the bar would be open but yes it was. The only open space downtown, fifteen metres from a police station where something like twenty people were standing outside, some wearing cop's uniforms while some others were looking like hooligans holding wooden sticks. I approached and ostensibly I asked them how i could cross the center and reach the other side of town toward Lycabettus hill. They were '' kind''; they used a civilized tone of voice but they knew nothing more than i already knew. I did not understand what kind of ''assembly'' I was facing and I entered the almost empty bar where my friend was playing ''the guns of Brixton''. An hour later, I was again out walking toward Lycabettus, crossing for one more time the empty ''bombed'' streets, and the looted stores, having the most confused feelings. As the words of Mao ''Great unrest excellent condition'' suddenly hit my mind, right after the comment of my mother '' Όπου φτωχός και η μοίρα του'', that in a free translation means '' The poor and his destiny go together'', reverses my thought. Finally, i reached the hill, i came up on a small wall and as i was looking down the city lights i shouted: My dear fellow citizens, welcome to the era of the multitude.