I Think I’m Done Reading the Comments

I’m not unplugging social media.
That would require discipline, optimism, and a charging cable I can never find.

But I am done reading the comments.

Done. Finished. Kalinixta (Καληνύχτα).

Let me explain.

Take One: A Train, Santa, and the Collapse of Civilization

Yesterday in Kalamata, something genuinely lovely happened.

The Friends of the Railroad and the City of Kalamata arranged for a train—yes, an actual train—to arrive at the now-defunct train station. Santa was on board. Gifts for the kids. Smiles. Nostalgia. A small, human gesture.

Somewhere, somehow, this was posted on Facebook.

And then… the comments arrived fast and furious.

Within minutes, a children’s event turned into:

• A political debate about eliminating the railroad

• Capitalists exploiting the proletariat

• Caustic references to the tragedy in Tempi

• And—this is my favorite—people asking for the timetable and whether there’s a direct train to Athens

A train with Santa.
For children.
Once.

Apparently, that was too much joy for the algorithm to tolerate.

Take Two: The Envelope That Shall Not Be Named

I wrote about “fakelaki”. The secret little envelope that helps push things along…

Yes, unfortunately, it still exists.
Yes, I wrote about it honestly.
Yes, I did so because I love my country, which is precisely why I returned to live here.

And yet, a comment appeared:

“How dare you ridicule Greece? Do you think you are better because you come from a superior civilization? Maybe you should not live here”

Superior civilization?

Have you been to my browser history?

Pointing at a flaw is not ridicule.
Writing with humor is not betrayal.
Loving a place does not require silence.

But online, nuance is illegal.

Take Three: Cats. Just… Cats.

I wrote a humorous piece about cats ruling Greece.

You know, cats on cars, cats in tavernas, cats supervising construction projects like unpaid site managers.

Backlash.

Apparently, I am “lucky” I haven’t encountered:

• Starving animals with their bones sticking out

• Injured animals. Blind animals. Eyes bulging.

• Abused animals—set on fire, kicked, discarded

Therefore—this was carefully explained to me—Greece is a horrible country.
(Among others.)

Wait.

What?

Two people agreed. One hundred percent. (sic)

Both foreigners.

Living in Greece? Your guess is as good as mine.

One of them has no other posts in any expats groups. None. A clean slate.
The other has exactly one: a request for a lawyer, after being bitten by a dog somewhere in the Peloponnese.

And that’s the full case file.

No exhibits.
No closing arguments.
Just a unanimous verdict.

And that’s when it hit me.

We Don’t Read. We React.

We don’t read words, we scan for triggers.
We don’t look for meaning, we look for offense.
We don’t ask what is being said?
We ask where can I be angry?

A gesture becomes a scandal.
An observation becomes an attack.
Humor becomes hostility.

And everything, everything, gets dragged into the mud of endless comment threads where nobody listens, everyone shouts, and the loudest voice wins absolutely nothing.

A Modest Proposal

If you think Greece is horrible and you’re being held here against your will,
you are free.

Free to leave.
Free to find a less horrible country.
Free to let the rest of us enjoy peace, quiet, disagreement, humor, cats, trains with Santa, and, God forbid, human interaction.

As for me?

I’ll keep writing.
I’ll keep observing.
I’ll keep loving this complicated, beautiful, frustrating place.

I just won’t be reading the comments anymore.

And honestly?

I’ve never felt more at peace.
The cats are calm. The coffee is strong. Santa delivered the gifts. Life is good.

Happy Holidays!

Siga, siga.

Nick in Kalamata

P.S. If you don’t mind not commenting and you still want to read whatever convoluted stories my little twisted mind may come up with… you know what to do.
If not, that’s fine too. I’ll be here. Probably writing and laughing with the cats.