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| Specially for you... |
| We all have our little secrets, we all have our little things we jealously keep away from the world, like some "good luck charms" we turn to when a smile is the only thing we need. Sounds easy... smile is just a smile, after all, right? But no, smile is a lot more then contraction of a few muscles on our face, because the "real" smile comes from within and it cannot be faked. Sometimes, if you can believe this, smile just runs over our heart like a warm wave of energy, and it doesn't show on our face, but it is there... moving and turning things inside us. You cannot choose moments when this will happen, but you can patiently wait and try to catch that feeling when it comes. I felt this a moment ago... so this few lines are for Her, because she was that inspiration that triggered that smile this time in me. This is my way of saying "thank you"... Above the town I live in, night has settled it's dark cape, but my eyes are gazing far beyond this darkness, to a place you are now. ...you are running now, I know, and my thoughts are flying somewhere beside you following your every step. I hope I will understand one day this connection between us, but even now I know it is something special and quite different from anything I felt ever before... And, you can be sure of that, I never spared myself to feel all I could, no matter will it bring pain or happiness... This time, though, no one will be wrong or right... I wish that more people would take some time to understand and choose... instead of a hundred fake and "made up" feelings to hold to ten of those that really count and are worth something. Once again... "thank you"...
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| Kišno prijepodne... |
| Možda je to samo to doba godine kad se tisuću stvari nakupi i brane popuste, pa bujica nekih neobičnih misli i dojmova preplavi moje poglede... Prođe mi glavom onaj stih: „To je tako... ne pravi od tuge nauku. Mami svetlo na sledećem bregu...“ Eh da, kad bi to u današnje vrijeme bilo tako jednostavno. Svi smo mi u istoj vojsci poraženih. Pobjeći nekamo, makar i na tren, postaje više poput sna, a manje obećanje samome sebi. Vlak za Novi Sad i jedno lice koje nisam vidio 5-6 godina... Kupujući kartu, kao da mi je neki sasvim prigušeni glas nešto šapnuo u uho i, iako nisam mogao razabrati riječi (ako su to uopće i bile riječi), okrenuo sam se i vidio njeno lice. Nakon onog jednog trena u kome pogled očima zamijenimo pogledom mislima i prepoznali smo se. Čudno mjesto za susret, no kad sad malo promislim, neko drugo, uobičajenije, ne bi vrijedilo. Nismo ljudi za takva mjesta i takve susrete. Putovali smo istim vlakom i pričali o svemu i svačemu... uglavnom o svarima za koje baš i ne marim suviše. Tražio sam nešto ispod te površnosti i slučajnosti i ne znam koliko sam u tome uspio... Vječiti problem odgovora za kojeg ne znamo postaviti pitanje. Sjetila me kako je zaista točna ona misao da neke osobe jednostavno ne dospijemo voljeti, tek se zaljubiti. Gledajući nekamo iza njenih očiju, u dubine koje su namijenjene, sada, nekim drugim ljudima, u jednom sam trenu pomislio kako smo možda upravo to proživjeli nas dvoje. Sjećanje je, zaista „čudna lupa“... :) Preispitivati neke izbljedjele osjećaje i odluke, slijepa je ulica. Mogao bih pomisliti tisuću suludih stvari, no ona koje me često uvijek iznova zaokupi jes... Da li je gore proživjeti život ne susrevši onu veliku i pravu ljubav ili je susreti u trenu kad povratka na izbore više nema? Hm... U nekom trenu, primjećujem to jasno oko sebe, ljudi počinju birati sigurnost, oslonac, nekoga da ih dočekuje na povratku s posla, saputnika... ne birajući suviše, prepuštajući, radije, da to godine učine za njih. Vođeni, vjerojatno, mišlju kako svi mi imamo nešto zajedničko... No, da li je to zaista dosta za neke ljude kad malo zastanu i zamisle se, kad odnos postane navika u kojoj se, umjesto upoznavanja, ljudi počinju otuđivati jedni od drugih. „Ovaj život je san...“ – zašto ga tako ne bi i proživljavali? Zašto vječito birati tuđe snove, umjesto stvaranja vlastitih? Ako i postoje odgovori među svim tim licima pored kojih svaki dan prođem, ne želim ih znati... Ostarit ću i ja, jednom, no ne prije nego št proživim ovaj život na način kako ja to želim. Možda netko moje misli protumači kao taštinu, no, vjerujte, s istim čuđenjem kojim gledate na mene, ja gledam i na vas... „Bez crne, bela ne bi vredela.“, zar ne? |
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| Imagine a story... |
| Yes, imagine a story...
Older couple (he - 79, she 71 years old) living in a small and remote village. They are the only two people still living there, all other houses are abandoned and empty. One day is the same as any other, without surprises or changes. Can you guess how the story goes? I doubt you can... It is not natural for a human mind to be so perverted to come up with what I am about to tell you... Try to imagine, first, the darkness that surrounds single occupied house in one village, during night hours. OK. Now imagine someone stepping through that darkness and standing in front of this house. If you were in that house, knowing that there is not a single soul miles around, you would nervously react to even a slightest sound. In this story, the sound that came, in three o'clock in the morning, was the sound of rifle firing. Seconds later that man trashes down the house front doors and steps in the house. More rounds sound off, but then, all of a sudden, it is all quiet - at least for a moment. The man is no longer standing in the door step - he is lying on the floor, his head in a small pool of blood that is with every second getting bigger and bigger... Above him an old man, standing still, frozen in terror, axe in his right hand touching the floor with its cold and bloody steel end... How would you react? With 79 years on your shoulders, awoken in the middle of night, without a soul miles around you, someone firing a gun on your house and breaking in through the front door? Would you recognize the moment to be a hero of your own life? And how would the rest of your life look like? Would you be able to sleep after that, in that same house ever again? ...
Hm...
And the best part, the fucking irony of this world we are living in, is that this is not just a story. This has happened last night in a small village in Slavonia. Another TV news. Try to think of those two people and lie down this evening with a clear conscience... If you can, maybe it is time to start looking for a place where you once lost your heart... |
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| First thoughts... |
| I suppose you will try to understand words I will write here, but, although this is your right, it is not the way to go. "Thinking", as a habit, sometimes brings more unanswered questions than understanding. If I were on your place, I would just read through and feel. Whatever comes first to my mind must be correct, because this is lines are not meant to teach anything to anyone, no.. this are just my thoughts I will share with the world. This is just like the title picture... You will see a man standing somewhere in the mountains and wonder about it. Different people will have different feelings when looking such a picture. There is no right or wrong impressions... as long as there are some impressions this picture has served its purpose. There will be people who will soon forget, some that will wonder how it feels to stand on such a place, and - at the end - there will be couple, two or three maybe, who will seek this place out. (and find it... I am sure of that) |
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