An empty bed. An empty apartment. The void reverberates and expands, permeating everything. Empty me. An empty life. Okay, not quite. All empty, yet full. The silliest being in the world once filled him with himself and it will remain so forever. Silly rhymes ("One bench, a quiet port, I've been drinking like three schmucks on it, since you became a man and now your name is Duško"), a tennis ball next to the laptop ("What do you want that ball for?" - "I like that it's this yellow"), a wall of books on the long table next to the bed ("They're all in working status, they have to be there"), "that slits hairstyle is great on you", "you're not bad at that little girl" (the dog that he crossed after himself).
The Truman Show in "Đura Salaj" 1998, the hand that searches for mine in the dark and finds it. "Alone, my own, refugees from nonsense." My whole universe. Zemun, Belgrade, Novi Sad, Valjevo, Deronje, Subotica, Vršac, Pančevo, Kikinda, Zrenjanin, Niš, Kraljevo, Zagreb, Rijeka, Pula ("Where are you going to sea? - To the shipyard "Uljanik"), Split, Brač, Lovran, Umag, Istria as such (unforgettable performance of "Green branch with sadness of yellow fruit" in the car on the way to Motovun), Tuhobić tunnel, Skopje, Ohrid, a village in Albania right across the border, a restaurant with excellent eels, Bitolj, Ljubljana, Trieste, and of course, Paris. - Only without culture." (Probably the only person who has been to Paris several times and hasn't seen the Mona Lisa up close.) "Is this city always this beautiful, or is it taken apart in the evening and taken somewhere and put back together again in the morning, for tourists?" "I don't want beer, I do Red wine! "
Writing with one finger (the middle finger of the left hand), with incredible speed. Amazingly precise cutting of texts from newspapers for the "archive". Tirelessly giving crazy names to cats, dogs and one rabbit: Matilda Antinomy, Stipendija, Benfica, Komizbrot, Helvetia, Ćepenak, Cheesecake, Brufen, Vicentie (that's a rabbit)... Twisting the names of drugs: Xanthippe (xtandi), Terpsichore (taxotera), mrmazepam (bromazepam), Fonseca (forteka), Leitard (insulatard), rapid (aktrapid)... And everything else: krklet (raclette), jajonez (mayonnaise), nocturnal bizar (night bazaar), neumaština (when you're not in Umag)... All-night reading of the bus forum. Collecting maps of cities (and those in which he has never been and will never be). Never a smartphone. Around the camera on the laptop is covered with black insulating tape. Forever "no" to social networks. Inevitable radio. ("You know what kind of Estonian jazz radio I found, crazy!") I want to be your dog LIVE – Iggy Pop and Sonic Youth. “When you don't know what to play, play Faith No More.”
Balasevic on Spence, a long time ago. The journalist intercepts the visitors on their way out of the concert and asks them which is their favorite verse by Balašević. "I'm Slavic, white, a freelance shooter," he says. "I wanna be adored" on Exit. Dawn at the Fortress. Cohen in the Arena. Darkness in the cinema. Crazy watching movies at the Fest. Theater, lots of theater. "Take me out tonight, because I want to see people and I want to see life." Afternoon at "Frida", evening at "Frida", New Year's Eve at "Frida" (and there are, to help, "Shamrock", "Dublin", "Foxtrot", rested "Izba" and also rested "Sherwood"...). And pubs, countless pubs.
Lately discovered škembić ("How many of these other people ate before I knew what was good!"). Loved stuffed steaks. Prawns from Rijeka peškaria. Sea bass broth from Pula. Liver from Temerin. Eternal tiramisu. And tufts (along with a variant without coconut called "balds"). Crempita with cherries. Everything with cherries. Transparent coffee mug. With coffee, always bio-white with cinnamon. And a book. Books, books, books everywhere, even on the washing machine ("Have you read all this?", the inevitable question of all masters who enter the house). Everything from books, everything for books, because of books, for books. And each one must be had immediately, as soon as one finds out about it, it must enter the house, and when it's time to read it, that's another story. Even on vacation, about thirty are taken, at least, because one never knows what one will be in the mood for. And those that cannot be obtained in Serbia are not loaned to anyone. Belgrade Book Fair, Interliber, Pula Fair - sacred places. "One day we'll just somehow get out of the apartment, lock the door and move somewhere else, because the books will push us out." That's how it was.
And where does sadness come from in the Time of Enjoyment? The explanation is simple: she keeps giving it back to me.
Aleksandar Vučić is carrying out an unannounced coup d'état. It's for nothing. He has no defense against the demand for justice. Because how can he look into the eyes of a mother who is on hunger strike, calm the people on the streets and silence the schoolchildren who are shouting on the excursion - "Pump!"
Aleksandar Vučić thinks he is traveling to Brussels on Tuesday as the President of the Republic of Serbia, but he is actually leaving as the President of Ćaciland. That's what he reduced himself to, only he's still not aware of it
A huge commemoration was held in Novi Sad for the victims of the carport, touching and necessary. The fixation on the exact number of people is completely missed because this is not that game anymore
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