Next we went to what is famously known as "the benches." When I pictured "the benches" and their surrounding alleyways I imagined a super crucial and expansive hangout zone. I arrived to find two and a half cement blocks with no backrest nor green space. Lily explained what happens here, "Anytime you walk by you can find anarchists sitting here. Except now, those people don't know why they are sitting there. Keeping walking." She turned toward the adjacent wall, which was lined with outdoor dining, raised her voice and pointed, "Up until recently this whole alleyway was ours, and covered in paint too! When this restaurant opened they ruined everything. Everything!" The benches of Patission made a huge impression on me. Everyone thinks the Greeks are so lucky because they have much more conquered living space, as opposed to the U.S. where every plot of earth has been tilled and marked for sale, sequestering any opportunity of play for profit by the enemy. We think that because of this we have no option but our couches and the couches of our friends. We think we have no territory. Yes, the Greek anarchist space is blessed with abandoned buildings, universities, squares, and parks, but it is also a network of tiny, hidden corners that are being taken advantage of. And we, like them, have city benches; designed for boring ok cupid dates, or a long talk between a father and his son or maybe for spectating a game of basketball. That should no longer be their only use.
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