The longest week of our lives
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Last night, I met a friend of Alexandros’ who was sitting close to him when he was assassinated. Standing there silently, listening to him describe the moments of the assassination (for the n-th time I imagine) I couldn’t help but think: How many years did this kid grow over these seven days? Listening to him explain exactly how the cop is now attempting to cover up the story, how the ricocheting scenario can’t possibly stand… Seeing him argue how we need to change our tactics to take our struggle forward. Joking with us about the incapacity of the indymedia servers to hold the incoming traffic in the first days of the revolt. How many years did he grow? I can’t help but think; they took 15 years from Alexandros, but years and years of life were transplanted into all of us who are here now. In these days of revolt, normalilty and normal time have been suspended - finally giving us ample time in which to live and grow. For this reason, as for a million others, there is simply no way back now: time can’t move backward, what we have lived cannot be unlived. “Remember this”, I heard the old man telling his grandson at the spontaneous mural for Alexandros at the spot of his assasination. “Remember that it is always authority killing the people, it is always the powerful who kill the powerless”. The kid will never forget this week, none of us will. This is the longest week of our lives.
Saturday, 5 pm. Four hours before a full week from the assassination. We are preparing to take the streets again. This night, too, is your night Alexandros.
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