Noć

Između zvezda i blata

Bolje da noćas svako na svoju stranu ode,
ti svojim šinama beži ka centru
ja ću se već nekako snaći sa mostovima i poslednjim autobusima ka periferiji,
fajront,
račun delim da svojim demonoma u glavi
ti ništa nisi dužna, vrati taj novčanik u tašnu.
Govoriš rano je, hajde da naručimo još po jednu čašu vina,
govoriš rano je, hajde da prošetamo do mene, imam jednu specijalnu flašu baš za ove prilike,
govoriš rano je, nemoj da si ko neki klinac,
govoriš rano je, a znaš da i ja znam da je rano
da je ovih par čaša ništa ama baš ništa,
da su mi noge već na prvom stepeniku tvoje zgrade
da već rukama tražim prekidač lampe kraj tvog kreveta,
znaš da sam te jedno milijardu puta beskonačno ljubio u taj mladež pored pupka koji se igra skrivanja sa mojim očima svaki put kada ti smeh podigne košulju,
znam da…

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Da li si spreman da zatvarajući oči pred zlom, budeš mu saučesnik?

Čovek što duže živi shvata koliko često živeći mora da umre. Nije to ono umiranje kad srce stane, disanje prestane, duša ode nekud a telo pod zemlju. Ne. To je ono umiranje kad ti zastane dah od nepravde a ne od smrti, kad ti se srce preseli na trenutke u pete od straha a ne od umiranja, kad ti usta zaneme od čuda a ne od upokojenja. To je ona vrsta mrtvosti gde iako i dalje postojiš nisi siguran da si živ jer su ti neizvesnost i nesigurnost postali jedino znano stanište.

Da li si spreman da iako polako umireš od gladi nastavljaš dalje verujući bez ijednog dokaza da se od ljubavi može živeti, da li si spreman da iako prečesto trpiš nepravdu nastavljaš dalje negujući svoju pravednost uprkos svemu, da li si spreman da iako drugi nemaju razumevanja za tebe nastavljaš dalje negujući svoje čak i za njih?

Fotografija: Dimitri Daniloff Fotografija:…

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O mrtvima samo najbolje reči jer smo im ih za života ostali dužni

Plaši me a i rastužuje činjenica koliko svi kolektivno umemo da volimo mrtve, a da ne primećujemo žive. Umemo da prema mrtvom budemo bolji nego što smo ikad prema njemu bili dok je bio živ. Dok su svi ti mrtvi bili živi, bili su samo jedni od mnogih, bili su nekima nikakvi, mnogima dobri, a samo retkima posebni. Kada im telo u treptaju oka smrša za onaj 21 gram, svima postaju najbolji, jedinstveni, svoji, talentovani, dobri ljudi.

Kako to da otvoreno pokazujemo emocije, volimo i plačemo, veličamo i nedostajemo tek onda kada se pokojnik više nikada neće vratiti, kada nas više ne može ni videti ni čuti. Kako to da dok smo svi među živima merimo, kalkulišemo, traktiziramo, dajemo emocije na kašičicu i čuvamo se a tek kad je dockan  dozvolimo sebi da pokažemo saosećajnost i slabost? Ko nas je tome naučio? Ko nas je od ljubavi odučio? I ko…

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Selektivna solidarnost is the new black

Un Monténégrin à Paris

Čovjeku prosto bude toplo oko srca kad baci oko na neku od društvenih mreža i vidi kako smo svi odjednom postali Brisel, svi smo postali Pariz i kako ćemo svi postati sledeći evropski grad koji se bude našao na meti terorista. Neću da ulazim u to da li je u pitanju licemjerje ili šta već jer u krajnjem slučaju čovjek ima pravo da se sa nekim saosjeća a sa nekim i ne baš, a kriterijumi za to vjerovatno zavise od osobe do osobe.
Nego, sve je to normalno, danas živimo u takvom svijetu kada neko vjerovatno treba da ti se dopada da bi se saosjećao sa njim. Konkretan primjer za to je upravo ova situacija koja se odigrala juče u Belgiji. Ovog puta, teroristi nisu samo izvršili napad na našu slobodu već su nam i pokazali u suštini kakvi su u suštini ljudi danas.

Da se razumijemo odmah, ne osuđujem…

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Jaki su oni koji se ne stide svojih ožiljaka

Ožiljak na članku leve noge zaradio sam s pet godina dok sam se igrao žmurke. Posekao sam se na polomljenu pivsku flašu. Videla se tetiva. Ovaj pored pupka je nastao nakon operacije. Ništa strašno. Preživeo sam. Ovaj ovde na obrazu – njega golim okom ne možeš videti – on mi je od života. Šamara ponekad. Navikao sam.

Imam još nekoliko njih okom nevidljivih. Iza ramena i uz leđa gde je koža pukla to je od preranog odrastanja, kad centimetrima prerasteš broj godina, pa ti telo okraća. Imam jedan na dlanu. Kad se ono Malo Vode što sam tu godinama držao pretvorilo u kiselinu, pa nagrizlo. Drugi je na kažiprstu, kad se onaj Nokat za kog sam mislio da nikad neće odvojio od mesa demantujući poslovicu. Ovaj najveći i najnevidljiviji, tu oko guše, on je od davljenja. Tako se svete sve Neizgovorene Reči. Dave osvetnički.

Ima ih još. Uzduž i popreko…

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Gradation.

I’ll never forget the first time we bonded.
The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it’s safe inside your mouth.

 

How glorious it is – and also how painful – to be an exception.

Nothing significant ever happens until a pattern is broken.

She was the prettiest hell I have ever been in. I didn’t mind burning at all.

I first fell in love with your eyes and the way you used them to create me. I then fell in love with your mouth and your words that just ate me. It took too long to realize that I am not the way that you see me and writing my own poems would be much more easy.

Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.

I’m a paradox. I want to be happy but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet I’m ambitious. I don’t like myself but I also love who I am. I say I don’t care but I really do. I crave attention, but reject it when it comes my way. I’m a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else can.

I’m sorry for annoying you. I’m sorry for always crying. I’m sorry for hurting you by hurting myself. I’m sorry for being weak. I’m sorry for being me.

I felt her absence. It was like waking up one day with no teeth in your mouth. You wouldn’t need to run to the mirror to know they were gone.

I lost a great innocence when I understood that I and my mind were not going to be on good terms for the rest of my life. I can’t tell you how tired I am of character-building experiences. But I treasure this part of me; whoever loves me loves me with this in it.

There is shipwreck between my ribs. I’m a box with fragile written on it, and so many people have not handled me with care.

Maybe I’m scared to love, because when I love, it is never returned. Maybe I’m scared to trust, because I’ve never been put first. I’m always the one being left behind; the one who’s forced to feel it all during the night.

We are told to love people unconditionally but sometimes we must get rid of people unconditionally. Some toxic people just keep slithering and oozing in through the cracks in your resolve; they refuse to respect your boundaries. No more mixed messages. You must learn how to close a door permanently. Cut and cauterize. Monstrous sociopath-like disengagement is your right. Your life is worth more. Don’t waste another minute. Let them say you’re awful. Block, ban, delete and disconnect. Compassion? Have some for yourself! Do what you must do to take care of yourself and don’t you dare feel guilty.

Guilt is an emotion that comes from the conscience when you have done something you know is wrong. Guilt works to nag you so that you won’t do harmful things again. Guilt helps you look at your behavior and say: “What I did was wrong for me and it hurt someone else. I won’t do that again”. This is helpful guilt-it gets you to change something that you’re doing that doesn’t fit for you. There is another kind of heaped-on-guilt that is not helpful. This is extra guilt where you feel like you are at fault even when you know that you didn’t do anything wrong. This guilt is NOT productive. It just hangs around like a bad habit bugging you and making you feel rotten. Separate out your extra guilt from your helpful guilt. Close your eyes and picture yourself going deep inside your body and collecting all the unnecessary guilt and putting it in a bag. Then picture yourself sending it to the moon, the center of the earth or anywhere safe where it will be neutralized. Breathe deeply and picture your guilt being released.

I no longer have the energy for meaningless friendships, forced interactions or unnecessary conversations. If we don’t vibrate on the same frequency there’s just no reason for us to waste our time. I’d rather have no one and wait for substance than to not feel someone and fake the funk.

I always feel like I’m struggling to become someone else. Like I’m trying to become someone else. Like I’m trying to find a new place, grab hold of a new life, a new personality. I guess it’s part of growing up, yet it’s also an attempt to reinvent myself. By becoming a different me, I could free myself of everything. I seriously believed I could escape myself as long as I made the effort. But I always hit a dead end. No matter where I go, I still end up me. What’s missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I’m still the same old incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I guess that lack itself is as close as I’ll come to defining myself.

I am astonished, disappointed, pleased with myself. I am distressed, depressed, rapturous. I am all these things at once and cannot add up the sum.

Pinocchio went out into the world. He went on his road filled with good intentions, with a vision. He went ready to do all the things he dreamed but he was pulled this way and that. He was distracted. He faltered. He made mistakes. But he kept on. Pinocchio, in the end, became himself – because the little flame inside him, no matter what the crap he went through, would not be extinguished. We are all Pinocchio. And you know what I found after several decades of life? We are Pinocchio over and over again – we achieve our goal, we become a level of ourselves, and then we want to go further. And we make new mistakes and we have new hardships, but we prevail. We are human. We are alive. We have blood.

I think I’m beginning, and I do mean just beginning, to find myself – you realize that I must find my own self and be something or someone, not necessarily in any concrete manner, but in a personal manner. – However, I’m growing, and I am doing it alone – perhaps you feel excluded in this but it can only happen alone… I feel the growth in the sharp way – I feel myself beginning to love you instead of just need you. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone in my life, not really – just needed them, wanted them to love me, to possess me – to become such a part of someone that I could lose my frightened self… Now, I am learning – very slowly, with lots of backing and filling, but still learning. Only if pain was love, then I loved fiercely.

It was good to walk faceless and talk to myself again, to ask where I was going, and who I was, and to realize that I had no idea, that all I could tell you was my name and not my heritage; my daily schedule for the next week and not the reason for it; my plans for the summer and not the purpose I had whittled out for my life.

I’ll never forget the moment I realized I deserve better and I didn’t feel obliged to make you happy anymore and I’ll never forget how painful it was to let this go.

Poverenjem ću te. Poverenjem ćeš me?

Poverenje se danas više ne poklanja. Još ređe se ukazuje. Danas se poverenje jedino zahteva. Čovek, nekad pitom, jedan drugom brat, danas kao pobesnela zver postao je drugom čoveku vuk. Više jedni druge ne posmatramo kao sebi slične saputnike sa istim brojem hromozoma bez dozvole za stalno boravište na ovoj planeti, već zaziremo od istih, čuvamo se od sličnih, a prezamo od naših. Niko više ne širi ruke ka neznancima, nego im okreće leđa, niko više ne pruža konačište putnicima namernicima, nego im lupaju vratima ispred nosa. Te plašljive duše zabravljene po karantinima sopstvene svesti, ne verujući nikome, štite sebe. Kažu – čuvaju se. Kažu – drže do sebe.

Njihovo prirodno stanište zove se strah. Štite se i kad ih niko ne napada, a nesvesno napadaju čak i one koji ih brane. Puknu kad se najmanje nadaš, pa rikošetiraju geleri njihove sujete po najfinijem mesu nevinih prolaznika. Te duše broje…

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