A Blind Man’S Quest

By Thermos Eleftherios

This book began with a phrase of a friend, a musician, a few days before he ended up in psychiatric unit permanently. We were sitting outside a bar at night, and he saw a young man walking wearing sunglasses. He told me, A blind man who sees at night, which is the title of the book in Greek. This phrase was the fuel of my inspiration to write this book, which moves between fantasy and reality, symbolism and surrealism together, in a fusion of prose and poetry, positive and negative, history and icons, dreams, voices, and sounds. When I was writing it, I felt like being in a pandemonium of senses, logic, and unconscious scripture.
The quest is the course in lifes path to find the real inside. Who am I? Why should I follow the ordinary steps in life? What is the cause of all these rules, while the lawyers say the rules are to be violated?
The Fish-Man is my option of our lives; everybody watches behind glasses, like the fish in the aquarium. Somehow all of us have been in front of a crossroad of decisionsour choice rules and ruled, our management of our lives, failure and success, negative or positive. What is right for today may be wrong for tomorrow. The fear of our choice, it is like the film of Luis Buuel called Angel Exterminator, while the heroes were encapsulated.
A Blind Mans Quest is a symbolic-surrealistic novel that watches the social history, the antiquity with today in a non-time environment, with fantastic creatures from horror tales or from my imagination. The place is the Greek environment, though it is unspecific. The dreams are referred. The first at December 44 in Athens; while in the British territories, people should walk with their hands up behind their heads. The other at 99, in Athens too; its the same global story with the international stock market fraud. While all kinds of people invested their money on the stock market, and you could observe the whole society, from housekeepers to taxi drivers, listening to the stock market live on the radio or watching the ribbons at the bottom of TV showing numbers and green and red arrows. They were once more encapsulated.
The circles we made. The backslides in our lives are the colors of our society.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Apr 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491898871

Thermos Eleftherios

I was born in Solingen, Germany, from immigrant parents, who were workers at iron factories. After the fall of the military government in Greece in ’74, we came back in Thessaloniki, where I grew up from three years of age until today. I had finished high school and the superior school of Pasteur as a radiologist’s assistant. I can’t say that I liked it; this choice was more from the problems I passed through with sanity matters in my family and the care I had to show. With writing, I guess, I am connected with a magical way; from my early teenage years—twelve or thirteen years old—I was writing almost every day, small stories or poems. One of my biggest problems was to set up my mind in the ordinary reality. Mostly I’m lost in my thoughts. Today I’m dedicated to script writing and keep working on my book concepts. Basically, I am working with stories for films, TV shows, and documentaries. This book, A Blind’s Man Quest, was the step to find my new world in the script writing and opens a new dimension of the written world for me.

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© 2014 Thermos Eleftherios. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/10/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-9886-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-9887-1 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Translator: Costas Libris

Cover page designer: George Seremetis

CONTENTS

A Fateful Encounter

The Exhibition (Pains And Gains)

The Predator-Adaptability

Necessities Or Vicissitudinous Tendencies

Dialogue

Insulating Material

Making An Acquaintance

Familiarity Or Immaturity

Dreams

Anamnesis

The Orchard

Black And White

Approximations Or The Right Way

Pendulum

Recall

Admittance

The Day After

About The Author

It’s an amazing thing how the sun enables us to see colours. Each and every colour is beautiful under the sunlight. It’s an amazing thing how darkness enables us to see people . . .

Any similarity had to be cut short at people. With just the ornamental dots, that should suffice.

Fish-Man smirked when he heard the syntactically absurd phrase, a blind man who sees in the dark from this fellow-man across the table. He took a small oblong piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbled down the sentence.

Drowning fast in alcohol, he took to examining fellow-man’s look, in an effort to apprehend his feelings. All in vain! The artificial light, a poor substitute for the sun, could only enable him discern the colour of his eyes and an odd glaze in his look. Undeniably, his own look was glassy as well, but alcohol was to be blamed for that. Unfettered, he bypassed this notion and kept on his steady drinking pace. He was running short on time, before returning back to the aquarium where he was forced to live in.

Fish-Man was far above the laws of natural selection. Although he himself could respire outside the aquarium, some magic spell was forcing him to lead his life drowning in it. The rest Citizen-Men, and especially the Power-Men, would call this force money, and that very point was the stepping stone to paranoia… He got up the table as if lifting a heavy load upon his shoulders; tottering and straining to conceal the complaint overwhelming him each night, he hurriedly walked away . . .

A FATEFUL ENCOUNTER

The ravine was deep and wide. The vehement water that once used to flood in its wake homes, trees and people, carrying along all sorts of waste, old tyres, condoms and any excrement produced by the human body, nowadays it finds its way through piping. Once more, man covered his shame, manhandled his inner truth. He can’t stand facing it; hence water flows calmly in its pre-fabricated path, inconspicuously.

Fish-Man lay down flat on the pavement in order to listen to the water flow, to recall its purl, despite all that filth and rot the river carried along, the sounds it carried in the past; those clean and untainted sounds that used to purify the water.

"Nothing soothes in obscurity; beware, Fish-Man, beware of the song of silence, beware of the headspring of loneliness. Beware, Fish-Man, of the time your torso gets torn apart and everything you’ve condemned to obscurity spurts like a fiery blaze consuming you; of the time I will swig the soil you covered me with, bringing your filth back to light, a spectacle guaranteed to extinguish any of your fires. It is then, and only then, Fish-Man, you will be entitled to be called human. Leave the dry land behind and head towards your aquarium, for you are not yet up to it, only good enough at mastering your magic power, this rotten force, as Mother is well aware.

Farewell… Farewell and don’t you forget this word."

Thick as if recovering from lethargy, he slowly got on his feet, struggling to balance his weight. In the distance, a dog growled at him showing its teeth.

You are an enemy, Fish-Man. Go before I kill you. You are an enemy… an enemy! How could you blanket the water of truth, the water of life? Go, Fish-Man, you are an enemy!

Where? Where should I go, back to the aquarium? It is not my fault and I apologise for this. Do with me, dear dog.

Go back to your aquarium, Fish-Man, and don’t feel sorry for your faults. Your apologies are not good enough. We can do without. We take no pity on you, Fish-Man; you can’t redeem your guilt this way. You’ve heard the water… you’ve heard it! Go!

He turned and left. All by himself, he pounded on the path to paranoia. He knew he had to keep on that path; maybe along the way he would meet some other Citizen-Man, to tell him about the tale of the water, and about the fed up with egotism Dog that wishes him dead.

The path to paranoia,

The path to torment,

Hey, people, it’s only with hard labour

Hey, people, those walls are built.

Both alike the walls of silence and the headspring of loneliness.

Fire and iron, let’s pick up in hand

And at the headspring of loneliness

Stub it with vengeance, with axes and knives.

For memories not to rise high,

For moons not to drown in high seas ever again.

Tottering in the dark, he shouted out loud the poem of life, in a dashing effort to curb his fear.

Mother is aware, rotten force! Mother is aware, rotten force . . .

He kept pulling banknotes out of his pockets, trading them for alcohol. Darkness is a man’s best friend; the greatest of hiding places. Yet, whom from? From colours, life, his own image. Fish-Man is ashamed; ashamed for having nothing left.

Hey, people… hey, ha, ha, ha… People, such faraway parlance, such alien word! I am even minding my step, in case I miss it and fall. Hey, people… fuck your silence . . .

THE EXHIBITION (PAINS AND GAINS)

Spotlights kept chasing after him feverishly. Every light cast on the big star.

The curtain is coming up, but the audience is missing. The audience is indifferent; declines to listen to the poem of the water.

"The wrath of the Dog will engulf you, after it has slain your