I can see her. I can tell she is confused about me. Everyone is I guess. I wouldn't care what she was. Religion kicks in and out. A chick is a chick. She's a good one.
I learned two things no one knows but me on the way here. How pissed off I was about my brother. And that martyrdom is bullshit. If I ever have lots of chicks, it will be right here. It won't happen now. But if I did, it would not be in paradise. Paradise is just a big confusion now.
I am getting stronger. They don't know how much stronger I am getting. The doctors do not communicate. They poke and dress and say does it hurt. I say nothing. It doesn't hurt as much as thinking about things.
I could end everything right here. I could. They do not know how strong I am. They have no idea how flexible. Shit. Flexible is right.
I am smarter now than we were. We thought we were smart. Then not so much. It all tumbled to nothing.
But I won my freedom. Now I see things they will never see.
Maybe she'll come back. I have to be careful. I cannot show feeling. Desire. I cannot do anything. Not good.
Lying in the dark yesterday I thought I would die. But it was obvious I wanted to give myself whatever life I could get.
We never named what we did. We did not think about it much. Doing it was the whole thing.
I knew when I gunned the car what I really believed. I believed I was doing justice. My justice. The justice he deserved. And I knew it would not help me. But it was worth it.
There she is. I can see without looking. She is coming closer. What's this? She reaches and touches my face. Gentle. Soft. I pretend not to notice. It takes than a second.
This may be the only good thing I will remember. I will recover. I will never be freer than I was last night.
Frangoulis and Theodorakis are joined by musicians, including two bouzouki players, and a very large audience that is completely familiar with the words. The audience joins in at Frangoulis' prompt.
This is my very favorite Theodorakis melody. Those who know Theodorakis only for his "Zorba" music are in for a treat. When I was in Athens in 1966, for a short period of study with Constantinos Doxiadis, I knew nothing of Theodorakis. But about five years later, my friend Irene Vassos sang "Sto perigiali" to us. I have never gotten the tune out of my mind.
Later, when Irene joined our group to form a travelling company performing "New Rain", I learned to pick out a …
Stephen C. Rose (1936-) was born in New York City and raised there. He currently lives there. He was educated at Trinity, Exeter, Williams and Union Theological Seminary. He served in the Student Interracial Ministry in Nashville. He founded and edited the prize-winning Renewal Magazine in Chicago and studied with C. A. Doxiadis in Athens. His first books "The Grass Roots Church" and "Who's Killing The Church" established him as a prominent critic of American Protestantism and American religion. He was and remains a civil rights activist. He has interviewed and done in depth pieces on Saul Alinsky and Martin Luther King, Jr. He won awards for editorial courage and for two documentary films. He has written and published many songs and musical works including "We Are All Americans". During the late 90s and early 2000s he worked for UN agencies, most recently editing CHOICES Magazine at UNDP. Since 2000 he has written several books for distribution via K…