Diary of a Human Target [From the Beginning to the End] by Isidora Vey - HTML preview

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does the housework! What a paranoiac coincidence! Without

hesitation, I seized the opportunity and asked her to fish

information about George Franzis. “Why, didn't you finish your

affairs when you were in gymnasium?” she wondered and

laughed exuberantly, while I was in seventh heaven.

Monday, 25th September 1989

“George is studying business management in America. He is

engaged to a Greek woman and he will marry her soon. He will

never return to Greece again.”

That was the news Theoni brought me this evening.

So, this is the end. I can see now that all this chase of an old-lost

love was nothing but a wild goose chase. Yet, I wonder: Why

was I possessed by such paranoia, twelve years after losing

George? Maybe because deep inside I know that during my

whole life there will be no other love for me. I know that my life

will go on in absolute loneliness, following its own weird path...

Life goes on...

Friday, 29th September 1989

It was a very important day for me today: With an air of

determination, I took a deep breath and announced Lucas my

intention of leaving his company at the end of next month “for

personal reasons”, which I strongly refused to reveal no matter

how much the boss whined.

… During the whole month of October, numerous girls will

appear at the office, applying for my position. Needless to say, it

will prove to be impossible for Lucas to find a secretary who is

as cheap as I am, or efficient enough to do well in his special test

in foreign languages.

“Such difficult tests are not given anywhere, not even in the

Ministry of Foreign Affairs!” said a candidate who had studied

Literature in Italy.

Finally, Zafirakis will hire a sedate girl who has studied

Psychology in Italy and demands nothing more than the basic

salary...

Saturday, 2nd December 1989

It's been a month now since I opened my own office of typings

and translations, after I had found a cheap place to rent near

Omonia Square. For the time being I don't have many clients but

my fixed costs are very low, so I am not particularly worried.

Anyway, I like this job a lot better than working in a company. In

fact, I think that being an employee has never been my cup of

tea...

As about my friendship with Louise, I can see it is not unclouded

any more: Little by little she is alienating herself from me; we

hardly go out together, or even meet anymore. This is probably

due to the fact that she prefers to see Nondas, her boyfriend,

more frequently. We occasionally go out together, the three of us;

I don't really like this, it seems to me that I play gooseberry.

Nevertheless, every now and then she promises to introduce me

to this or that handsome friend of hers, which actually never

happens. Besides, whenever I confide in her that I like someone

from her party, she says that he is a dead loss and takes care that

we never get in touch with that person again.

About a month ago I told Louise that I like Takis: He is a tall,

slender guy with blond hair and blue eyes, a serious and sensible

person who happens to be a friend of her fat, disagreeable

brother. We haven't met Takis or the others ever since. In fact, I

haven't seen the guy more than three times in all. On the other

hand, Louise insists on my going steady with Harry, a plump

silly boy who is the laughing stock of the whole party. “The

more I look at you both, I more I see you are a matching

couple!” she told me, in an equivocal manner, the other day.

This evening I called her once again and asked her to arrange an

outing with the other guys as well, but she refused at once:

“Unfortunately I can't, I have no time for that. Besides, I don't

see the others anymore, and they have been complaining: ' You

neglect us because you have other friends now'', they say to me!”

she excused herself, meaning she prefers me to them. Yet, I

know that nothing could be further from the truth...

Monday, 18th December 1989

After a lot of wavering, I decided to take the initiative and

communicate with Halaris by phone, since I haven't had any

news from him for months now – that is ever since I gave the

corrected rolls back.

I arranged to meet the publisher this afternoon, at a certain

address he gave me. When I got there, I was surprised to see that

their new head offices are in a luxurious eight-storeyed edifice

not far from Syntagma Square. This must be a really thriving

business! Yet, their books are not so renowned, I wondered at

first but dismissed all negatives thoughts immediately, reckoning

that the rapid development of Halaris Publishing could mean

something positive for me as well. Besides, the change of

address could also justify the delay in the publishing of my book.

Finally, we signed an extension of time until the end of 1990.

In the long run, Halaris will never come in contact with me again

and “The Conspiracy of Shadows” will never be published. It

will take me many years to realize that the whole thing was part

of the publisher's scheme to show a great number of books under

publishing, so as to get a subsidy from the European Union.

Nevertheless, two years later Halaris Publishing will go bankrupt

and close for good...

Tuesday, 16th January 1990

Business has been looking up lately. Week after week I earn

more and more money, which makes me feel satisfied. My most

important client is the famous publishing house “Pangaea”,

which publishes books of science and literature. They have given

me a bulky “Lexicon of Scientific Terms” to type, which is a

quite interesting book.

Taking into account that my income has increased, I have also

decided to take out a life-assurance policy, although I have social

security insurance too. This morning I contacted an agent of

“EasyLife” and signed an insurance policy which offers extra

medicare plus a retirement program. The latter will last 25 years

and it will provide me with a good pension. Till then, I will have

to pay 8000 drachmas per month as premium.

My little sister hastened to take out a similar policy as well, at

my parents' expense of course, since they always indulge all her

fancies. I have the impression that Alice is always seeking to

copy me in every possible way, aspiring to be ahead of me some

day...

Sunday, 20th January 1990

Last night I decided to go to the usual place in Glyfada and meet

my supposed friends, although Louise didn't come along. I was

given a cool welcome and they hardly spoke to me. Takis was

absent. We finally went to a nice seaside tavern in Vouliagmeni,

ten persons in all, and we sat at a big table.

Michael, Louise's brother, was there too, and he happened to be

sitting on my left. All at once he laughed ironically and moved

his chair away from mine and from the table, in a most

ostentatious manner, making all those sitting on his left do

likewise. In this way, the “gentleman” declared his abhorrence in

me -non verbally yet clearly. As a result, all those hours we

stayed in that taverna, there was a huge empty space on my left

at the table, which looked very, very odd...

Wednesday, 21st February 1990

Time seems to be passing faster and faster, yet my life is always

characterized by deathly immobility. That's why three months

ago I decided to go to a match-making office in Athens. I have

already met some would-be grooms, all of them ugly and

disagreeable: One of them was 38 years old, divorced, fat and

wayward; he wanted to split fifteen minutes after we had met in

a cafeteria. He hardly waited for five more minutes, for me to eat

up my ice cream. Another one had a squint and he was wearing

huge glasses on his pock-marked face; moreover, he lisped

badly. Two others, boring factory workers with no hair on their

heads, made a wry face as soon as they saw me and wanted to

split at once. Another one had only two fingers in his right hand

and his mouse-like face didn't attract me at all; when we parted,

he took care to shake my hand with his crippled one. Another

one was comparatively good-looking, yet he put me off with his

arrogance and his tendency to boast off continuously.

The short, hairless kiosk owner with the shrieking voice, whom I

saw yesterday, was in a hurry to disappear fifteen minutes after

we had met, because he had work to do, as he said. This

afternoon, when I phoned the match-making office, I was

informed that the bloke had complained about my clothes. The

match maker advised me politely to avoid dresses and prefer

“something more fashionable” (that is something more tarty)

when I meet the princes. On the other hand, “I hope you aren't

interested in the man's appearance,” she says again and again.

I think I had better quit these silly meetings. I am certainly not in

the mood for losing my time with all kinds of screwy persons.

Anyway, I suspect that marriage with an ugly, problem guy is not

at all what I really want from my life...

Monday, 26th February 1990

Right from the first months of his life, little Josef has proved to

be a very wayward baby, all nerves and whining. He was only

five months old when he uttered he first word: It was neither

“mum”, nor “dad”; it was “bad”: His father was rocking him

playfully in his lap, asking him “What kind of boy are you?”,

when the baby started giggling “bad-bad-bad!”. When he doesn't

want to eat, he looks away and grits his few teeth in

exasperation. If he doesn't like something, that is often, he

clenches his fists and shakes all over. When he sees anybody, he

extends one or both his hands threateningly and shouts: “Da-da!

Da-da!”. He is also extremely naughty: This morning he

managed to climb up the net walls of his playpen and jump out

of it!

From now on we must be always on the alert and never lose

sight of Josef, lest he should climb on the television, or break a

window pane, or upset the sitting-room table, or destroy the

rolling shutters with his tiny hands – and all these events are

meant to happen during the months to follow...

Tuesday, 27th February 1990

On the contrary, Yanni is growing into a very sweet child. Since

his mother works, this is his second year in the kindergarten.

“Tell us Yanni, are there any beautiful girls in your class?” aunt

Penelope asked him this afternoon.

“No, there aren't. I don't like girls!” he answered solemnly.

“You don't like girls?” I wondered.

“No! I like women!”

“He will get into trouble very soon!” aunt Penelope concluded,

with her usual enigmatic smile.

Wednesday, 28th February 1990

In the meantime, my friendship with Louise has been going

downhill. He haven't met for over a month now. I have called her

many times but it is always Michael who answers the phone,

telling me that his sister is absent. I don't even see her in the bus

anymore; she probably takes another one, so as not to meet me.

This morning I happened to see her at the bus station, after a

long time. However, she avoided to sit next to me; she made

herself comfortable in another seat, opposite me. As soon as we

reached the bus terminus in Athens, she stood up hastily, she said

goodbye coldly and got away at once, as if we were strangers.

I suppose this is the end of our friendship and the only thing I

can do about it, is wonder: If such a close friendship, with

someone I've known since we were six, didn't work out, then

what can I expect from other relationships in the future? In

general, what can I expect from the future?

What future?

All I can see before me is darkness,

circles that close one after the other,

days that tumble down one upon the other,

as in vain I'm trying to ignore that

the days of hope belong to the past...

Phase Five: Metaphysical Quest

Spring 1990

Years pass by very fast; I am almost 27 now and I have hardly

realized I am that old. At this age, I should have already sorted

out where my life is leading; however, there is no progress in any

field, and there never will be -I know. Let's face it, there is

nothing here for me. Therefore, I think it is high time I did what I

have been postponing for years: Take the path towards the

inside...

From the beginning of March I have started to attend

parapsychology lessons in a school of spiritual development

called “Janus” . Although it is in Kypseli, very far away from

Glyfada, I am eager to go there once a week, defying the

exhaustion from the double bus journey to and from Athens:

Since I still work in my office near Omonia Square in the

mornings, every Wednesday -when I go to Janus- I spend six or

seven hours of commuting in all. However, I don't mind because

I feel there are new spiritual horizons opening for me there. The

fact is that metaphysics really excites me, and it is the first time

in my life I am excited about something.

The lessons include teachings of the guru Alexander Romanos

regarding the evolution of the soul, the domination of the

subconscious in a man's life, methods of relaxation and

meditation, the awakening of telepathy and so on. The guru is

gifted with a lot of eloquence, he knows well the art of

persuasion, he is said to possess psychic powers, and he doesn't

hesitate to go against the dominant dogmas of metaphysics. For

instance, he doesn't believe in the theory of karma – in contrast

to all the other schools of spiritual development.

We have already learned a basic technique of relaxation, which

can be applied either sitting on a chair or lying in bed, as long as

the spinal cord is kept straight: In the beginning, we relax our

body from toe to top, giving the respective mental orders to each

body part separately. For instance: “My feet relax” … “My

calves relax” … “My thighs relax” … and so on, to the head.

Then, always mentally, we countdown from 10 to 1, ordering

ourselves to relax after each number -for example: “10: I relax, I

relax” … “9: I relax deeper” … “8: Deeper and deeper” … “7:

No external noise interrupts my relaxation” and so on, till you

reach 1. When we reach zero, we enter the “void space”, where

we let no thought or feeling come inside us. We stay there, in

absolute tranquility, for as much time as we can.

Alternatively, after staying in “void space” for a while, we

choose a subject and meditate on it as thoroughly as possible,

taking into account events, thoughts, feelings, ways of action;

after the awakening, we write everything in a notebook.

The awakening is done by counting slowly from 1 to 5, while

ordering ourselves to wake up with all our senses on the alert.

After the number 5, we open our eyes and stand up at our ease.

By following this specific technique, the subconscious gets

clearer and clearer; later on, as we keep practicing, the

unconscious reveals itself too, unfolding great cosmic truths

which could lead even to enlightenment.

When we finish the lesson, some of the guys gather together and

we go for a coffee to Fokionos Negri Square, where we discuss

lots of controversial but interesting subjects: parapsychology,

spiritual development, magic, social matters, etc. Some of us

meet on Saturday nights too. I can barely believe what's

happening to me: It is me who goes out every Saturday night,

having fun in tavernas, cafeterias and pubs, together with an

interesting, large company! I experience and enjoy my new

reality to the fullest, even if sometimes I feel that the atmosphere

around me is strangely tense...

From the company of Janus I especially like Apostolis: He is 25

years old, tall, slender, calm and sensible -unlike most guys I

know. I show him my interest at every opportunity, he doesn't

seem to respond but I, as usual, refuse to acknowledge the bitter

truth. Only once did he accept to go out with me, just the two of

us, because he thought he could persuade me to take out a life

assurance policy by the insurance company he works for; I

pretended to care only because I hoped I could start dating him.

Another time, I phoned him and suggested our going to the

cinema together. “I have other plans for today”, he answered

flatly. Since then, any time we meet together with the others, he

looks rather buttoned-up towards me but very friendly to Danae,

who is eight years younger than me and much richer.

Nevertheless, I still hope...

Friday, 29th July 1990

Every year “Pangaea” remains closed during the whole month of

August, which is very convenient to me: I won't have to fight in

order to get my summer leave! I have already arranged to spend

a week abroad: I will go to Dalmatia with a travel agency and the

group leaves tomorrow. Of course, first I finished typing all the

texts given to me, I delivered them to Mary Bonanos yesterday

(she happens to work for Pangaea too) and I explained to her I

wouldn't be able to type any more this month – that is, they will

have to do without me for three days. She bore no objection,

since the company is about to close, anyway.

This morning, however, I had an entirely unexpected phone call;

as soon as I picked up the receiver, I heard a very angry woman's

voice telling me:

“Listen, Yvonne, I am Mary from Pangaea and I am furious at

you! You left us three days before the end of July, while there is

still so much work to do! And don't forget that I was the one who

talked to the bosses and they hired you as a typist!”

For a moment I was speechless; then I answered calmly that “I

thought there wasn't so much work to do and that I could

leave...”

“What are you talking about? There are whole volumes of our

new encyclopedia waiting to be typed! You hear? Whole

volumes!” she interrupted, outraged.

“Yes, but I'm leaving for Yugoslavia tomorrow! What can I do?”

“Find us another typist, one who can sub for you during these

three days that you won't be working for us!”

“Alright, I will try” I replied hastily, just because I wanted get rid

of her as soon as possible.

“And make sure she is educated, not an illiterate one, you

understand?”

“Yes, alright...”

I thought about Mrs Georgia, a schoolmate in Janus , who also

happens to be a typist. I came in contact with her at once, I told

her all about it and asked her to visit the company tomorrow

morning. She expressed her wonder about the whole story, she

was even worried “But what if they hire me and fire you?” but I

insisted on her going there, because I didn't want to displease

Mary Bonanos and the bosses of Pangaea.

Wednesday, 10th August 1990

The trip to Dalmatia proved to be a fiasco: The group consisted

of some boring old people, and the prima donna was a black-

dressed middle-aged shrew who wouldn't miss a chance to show

off her knowledge in everything, while the others were admiring

and applauding her. The only company I managed to find was a

42-year-old divorced lady with her 5-year-old son. She told me

she had two adult daughters as well, and that she had given birth

to that boy so as to keep her aged lover -yet he got away. So, the

lady was always in a bad mood, she didn't have much to say, but

she dropped me certain hints every now and then: “I don't know

if you are still in the market, but I am not”, or “Do you mind

your that you didn't get married?” -as if I were some 50-year-old

spinster.

Moreover, I was unlucky enough to share the room with an old

neurasthenic who swallowed the sleeping pills by the dozen, yet

she couldn't get any sleep and when the morning came she

started complaining to me:

“Aren't you ashamed at all? You look at your watch, at 6:30,

before the day breaks, then you put it on the bedside table and

the noise wakes me up! Shame on you!”

“Eeeeh, I'm sorry!”

“And you snore all night long and you don't let me sleep!”

The hen got on my nerves with her hysteria; first of all, I don't

snore; then, every morning we had to be at the foyer by 7:00,

ready for the tour of the day.

After a couple of such incidents, I went to the reception and

asked to be given a single room, but there were no such rooms in

the hotel, I was told. I complained about that to the travel agent,

to no avail of course, everybody in the group got wind of the

situation, and in the end they were all fond of the old

neurasthenic, while they looked askance at me.

Anyway, I saw some beautiful places as well: Herceg Novi,

Kotor, Cetinje, Mostar, Dubrovnik, Budva, Saint Stephen.

However, the good impressions were blemished by the four

exhausting days (two to go and two to return) in the small but

packed ship.

This morning I phoned Georgia and asked her about her

collaboration with Pangaea. To my great astonishment, she

informed me that they didn't need her at all and that they were

surprised to see her!

Monday, 3rd September 1990

Pangaea is open again for the first day after the summer

holidays, and I went to find Mary Bonanos in her office.

“How are things, Mary?” I asked smiling. “Did you have any

problem during those days I was away? I sent you another typist,

like you told me on the phone, but she said that you didn't need

her at all!”

“What? I never phoned you!” she replied astounded.

“But you called me on the 29th of July and you said that...”

“It wasn't me! It was probably Mary Skina!”

Right at that moment, Mary Skina happened to enter the office

and, full of joy and laughs, confirmed it was her who had phoned

me!

“So, it was you,” I told her solemnly. “I thought it was Mary

Bonanos, that's why I was worried! You introduced yourself as

' Mary from Pangaea' , and your voices are alike...”

“Oh, no, it was me!” she repeated, with an innocent smile on her

face.

If I had known it was Skina on the phone then, I would have

acted differently and, of course, I wouldn't have involved