I have been told by my male-friends some details of their sex-life.

One friend had a Russian girlfriend that would interrupt the sexual act because she was sweating. They would be in the very midst of the hit, she would jump off him, telling, – “Oh, I can’t, I can’t. I am sweating, I can’t stand the sweat”, – and would run off to wash herself. Sure my friend was not too eager to continue, when the woman got back.

The other friend was complaining about his girlfriend that would give him the instructions. Like, – “A little bit to the left, a bit to the right, take a pillow, don’t breath so hard etc.”. Non-stop he told me. He was really upset about it.

The thing is that the first guy was not good at all at foreplay and was relying on his penis that he would have a long erection and the second man had a problem with the erection (I was told so).

They were really upset and were blaming women and would split instead of solving the problems.




Happy face after a rape attempt

Happy face after a rape attempt

Let me to present first to Ano Liosia. Ano Liosia is a North West suburb of Athens, a basin surrounded by the mountains, Parnitha is close by. All the gypsy barons live there, wealthy gypsies with money from selling heroin in neighbor area Menedi, in big quantities. Gypsy barons have a deal with the police, so they feel very relaxed in “their” village. One can hear day-night shootings of the guns. Gypsies drive in their jeeps with very loud music on. And gypsies, gypsies, gypsies everywhere. Gypsies and the “Golden Dawn”, the neo-nazis that are now in the Greek Parliament.

Freezing late evening January 6 2015, Ano Liosia, Athens. From Attiki metro station I took the bus B12, on the back of the bus there were 10 male youths, age 15-22. Around 10 p.m. I arrived to Ano Liosia, I missed my bus stop because I don’t know very well the area, I was just visiting my boyfriend (then) now he is an ex-boyfriend. I got out,  two of the gypsies got out at the same bus stop. I asked them where is the Fylis str. that is the main one. They told me they show the way. One was 18 years old Vassilis, the other 20 years old Yorgos, later on at the police station I was told that they probably lied about the age. In any case we were walking together gypsies were singing and it was fun. To my sense of where I am boys were showing the right way. Gypsies were wearing fancy sports’ cloths. They were not miserable.

On the way to the main road it was and abandoned shop, suddenly gypsy-boyz started to talk in Roma language. I didn’t pay attention. Then they dragged me into that empty shop, closing my mouth, into a small room that smelled piss and excrement. I was shocked and didn’t resist at first. Then they threw me down and tried to take my cloths. It was minus temperature! I was properly dressed. I wear jeans with my father’s army belt, and another pants over my jeans. A winter skiing jacket and a windbreaker under. I was screaming and kicking with my legs (I was down at the floor). I said, “I have period, – it was true by-the-way”, – they would not stop. I told them, – “I have AIDS”, – it would stop them either!   But what saved me, – I always have a pen in my pocket. I almost got into the eye of the younger gypsy. He said, – “Shit, I am bleeding, putana almost took out my eye!”. And they run away.

Then followed four days in police. Drawing up a report, then identification ( I was in a room policemen were bringing little rascals), then identification through photographs, then police clinic (to see my black eye). I have had not a lot of bruises, – winter cloths saved me.

My psychology was really below zero. The interesting thing, – reaction of the people. Women, – “Did you go to the police? Good that you almost took his eye out!”. Women would be really sad about that event. Men, – “It could be worse!”. And would make jokes about that.

What could be worst than have an attempt of a rape?! I was down there completely helpless wintertime, nobody is out on the street, snowing. Two jerks over me, I was a slave for 7 min aprox. They could do anything to me, stab me, rape me, cut into pieces. I could be on the market in form of human organs! It was so horrifying. Dark, stinky place, two young strong men. Sweet Jesus, το γλίτωσα! Of cause I am lucky, of cause it could be worse! Just don’t jerkily make fun of it. It is not funny. I had a trauma for over one month. My world got upside down. I live in another world, where people at least try to be good to one another. Educated, sophisticated world, avant garde. And now I am smeared with dirt ’cause of two stupid smacks.

Who are they to take over MY BODY that belongs TO ME! The only thing in the entire World I own that belong to me?! Who are theirs parents?!

The terror is still here with me. Terrible I am loosing my patience with humanity. I’ll throw a bomb on the gypsies rapers. A creature can not walk quietly if there is a hole between the legs?

I wasted 5 days of my life at the police stations and one month to recover psychologically. Waste, waste, waste!


p.s. My nose still hurts.


Happy face

Happy face


I have not written a word lately, – you would think I have nothing to say. Well, – I was very intensively out of my mind. While all Christmas-New Year and the rest of happy-family events were rather quite, – I stayed indoors. But happy 2015 started for me très violent. 

About my adventures in January I will tell another time. Now it is about today.

My day started very Friday 13th. On the way to the bus station it was, – did I locked the door, did I not? I said to myself, – let it grow. While waiting a bus I understood I forgot my cell home, – well “HOME”, I am homeless, penniless, jobless, hopeless and the rest of “less”. I had to run back “home” that is 7 min. of fast very walk. The door was LOCKED and I was LOCKED OUT. Luckily the back was open, certainly I am out of my mind and very absent-minded. Then I was waiting for a bus 30 min. when usually it is max 15.

Very now I am at Acropolis museum thinking, – “what next”. But everything looks peace and quite. And I am calm.

Perhaps it is the vitamins I am in-taking.

Furthermore while I was surfing in Acropolis museum “reading room” I had an argument with an young student. Alright, she asked me for a pencil, I told that I have only in colors. She was “OK” with that. Then she asked for WiFi password, I told that it is “open”. My little student was very neat, dressed “whatever” but certainly a very-very good student. Later on came a senior English couple sat down scrolled through a book and had a discussion in a hushed voices. Everybody speaks in hushed voices in museum. My little student asked to speak softly, that sounded like, – shut up, I am studying here. I told her that it is not exactly “a reading hall”(αναγνωστήριο in Greek, γνώση – knowledge) in a sense of the university or a library. And that she should go to the  another space to read. We spoke Greek and the Brits looked feeling uneasy. They left. Silence felt upon us. But my lil student made me a surprise. She came up with a lil text about the use of a reading room. That people of the museum can make use of the reading room. I have corrected her, – not people of the museum but visitors of the museum that come from all around the World. I was sitting there for 3 hours and in these 3 hours passed by plenty of people (it is Friday, babe!). Most of them were hissing and whispering and bragging in hushed voices. If one starts to make remarks to all of them you, – you are doomed. Plenty of tourists on Friday and they all drop by and stay for 5-10 min.

I left museum and was deep into thoughts about how idealistic and inexperienced the young woman was. She was very polite and well spoken (law school), protected life from books. Museum inspires her, – she told me. To see Caryatides make her wet, – I read her my way. Because she also a dancer and a choreographer, – what kind?!, – what kind of dances. She was so dry and SO way too careful. Like a dancer that is afraid of pain! Imagine that. A dancer that is afraid to fall. That was my lil student. These kind of thoughts were flowing through my sick mind. And the rights of the visitors in the reading room of the museum that is in my opinion differ from any academic reading hall. It is commercial. There are only twenty sits, only eight have a table. It is actually a passage from one side to another of the second floor.

Thinking of all that I took a wrong turn in Plaka and I met a friend. We were not in contact for 3-4 years. I was so pleased to see her! It had a very positive impact on my well-being. I was upgraded to PREMIUM. Because my friend is in the same field – cinema. Das lovely.

And I have bought a wallet after 3 years!

In any case my conclusion of the Friday 13, – even if take a wrong turn it might lead to the right thing!

Toxicana Cyber