When I think of all the worries people seem to find And how they're in a hurry to complicate their mind By chasing after money and dreams that can't come true I'm glad that we are different, we've better things to do We were never meant to worry the way that people do And I don't need to hurry as long as I'm with you We'll take it nice and easy and use my simple plan You'll be my lovin' woman, I'll be your lovin' man. Goodbye Joanna... Nicolas Jaar - Let's Live Today (winter edition)
I cannot rest from travel; I will drink Life to the lees. All times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vexed the dim sea; I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honoured of them all...
He was climbing the stairs, talking with his team-mate about the game that has just ended.
As he reached the top, he looked straight and saw her slowly coming his way, involved in a conversation with her friend. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"I love your boots" - he said as he was making a turn that was about to take him away. She slowed down to a stop, looked at him with pause and he expected the worst.
"Are you joking?" - her voice matched the undefined look on her face. It might have been surprise, insecurity, disbelief - he didn't know. He didn't expect that.
"No, I am serious. They look great on you." - he said as he turned away from his friend and slowly approached her. "I wish I had someone waiting for me after the game, in boots like that."
His smile was sincere as he looked her in the eyes. She blushed, not sure where to look.
"Thanks...." - was all she was able to say, put on the spot like that.
"I think you are beautiful." - he was serious now.
"I saw you before the game as you were walking down the hallway. I wasn't sure where were you going, and I don't know why I hoped that you are going to our field. I secretly watched you during the game, wishing that you were the prize for the winner. I saw you leaving the field after the game and that victory meant nothing. In the dressing room, I was hoping that I might see you once more on my way out, to have a chance to tell you something, anything..."
"No, I am serious. They look great on you." - was all he said while walking away, carried by the inertia of his previous conversation. He kept thinking of all the things he wanted to say, but never will.
She was there for someone else. . .
It is unbelievable how many things happened to me in past couple of years that enriched my life and my soul.
Confidence, satisfaction, sense of achievement, recognition - these are just words not even coming close to describing the feeling.
After the ceremony and all post-apocalyptic events that took place, the Sun is setting down on this day to remember, and I am going to bed with one and only:
This glancing life is like a morning star
A setting sun, or rolling waves at sea
A gentle breeze or lightning in a storm
A dancing dream of all eternity
The sand was shimmering in the morning light
And dancing off the dunes so far away
The night held music so sweet, so long
And there we lay until the break of day
We woke that morning at the onward call
Our camels bridled up, our howdahs full
The sun was rising in the eastern sky
Just as we set out to the desert's cry
Calling, yearning, pulling, home to you
The tents grew smaller as we rode away
On earth that tells of many passing days
The months of peace and all the years of war
The lives of love and all the lives of fears
Calling, yearning, pulling, home to you
We crossed the river beds all etched in stone
And up the mighty mountains ever known
Beyond the valleys in the searing heat
Until we reached the caravanserai
Calling, yearning, pulling, home to you
Calling, yearning, pulling, home to you
What is this life that pulls me far away
What is that home where we cannot reside
What is that quest that pulls me onward
My heart is full when you are by my side
Watching the cinders glow inside the flame
lost in their magic time and again,
as passion was giving the flames a birth
soft movement beside me, a mysterious skirt
In the dark, like a veil, with a story to tell
It traveled the world through hot and cold,
made by the seamstress for traveler bold,
she wore it like armor, and a wedding gown
defiant lady with a smile and a frown
We captured the night, the stories unfold
shadows in the night sharing spirit of old
she was the voice and I was the ear
there was so much I enjoyed to hear
I was thinking what I should say
but none of the words made sense anyway
thoughts, wishes, desires were having a fight
but I knew we only had this one night
With every step and word that we have said
we were getting closer to an inevitable end
yet there was no sorrow, no searing pain
getting to know her was magical gain
We parted out ways without a goodbye
I don't know if her path will ever cross mine
her smile stayed with me, it's all but gone
I wish I could tell her that she's not alone
Uzeo sutra day off, a onda ukapirao da je petak 13. Nisam ni znao do danas.
Uglavnom, uzeh dan da idem da "zavrshim porez", produzhim fishing lajsens za ovu godinu (RnR - Rachunajte na Rajana prim.aut.), promenim osiguravajucu kompaniju posle 3 godine da bih ushtedeo... (380 - 290 = ) 90 dolara mesechno i sveukupno izvedem jedno deset driblinga razne vrste (prodavnice, pertle, mehanichari...)
Petak 13. Pravi dan za to, mora se priznati.
A prekosutra idem da potpishem lease za gajbu. Godinu dana. Nije kao morgidzh, ali je prvi presedan u mojoj radnoj istoriji gde se uvaljujem u lance na godinu dana. Nema shta, doshao je i taj trenutak. Spremni smo.
Ako zhelim da imam svoju gajbu a ne da zhivim u sobama i podrumima, onda mora da se igra ozbiljna igra. 1200 dolara mesechno. Kul, kapiram, nisam rastao na banani (bez uvrede). Jednostavno, hocu da imam svoju teritoriju. Ja upravljam, odredjujem shta i kako, koliko, kad i zashto. Ili zashto da ne?
Kakve sad to sve ima veze?
Nemam pojma, mozhda i nije bitno, ali uglavnom sam shvatio da zhene imaju jako veliki problem u mom sluchaju. Nemaju shta da ponude. Odrastao sam okruzhen zhenama. Mamama, babama, tetkama, sestrama... Zhene, na sve strane. Drugarice, drugovi i njihove devojke... Moje devojke... itd.
Svega sam se nagledao. Svashta sam dozhiveo. Suma svega, zaista ne znam zashto bih ikada dozvolio sebi da pored sebe imam bilo kakvu drugu osobu do onu sa kojom necu dozhiveti degradaciju, vec unapredjenje kvaliteta, stila i vibracije zhivota...
Sve ono shto sam video i vidim oko sebe mi nimalo ne pomazhe da se osecam drugachije.
Njujork. Generalno.
Ne mozhe se opisati ta druga dimenzija zhivota i postojanja u gradu koji je toliko ogroman i toliko drugachiji od svega shto sam ikada iskusio i shto bih mogao zamisliti, da sam pokushao. Mislim da bi grad bio fantastichan za zhivot, stvarno je prepun svega i svachega. Ljudi su lepi, atmosfera je prilichno zhiva, na momente sam se osecjao kao kod kucje.
Njujork. Tajms skver.
Sumirano: Milion ljudi ugurano u metalne obore u sredini ulice. 9 sati chekanja.
Pravila igre su jednostavna:
- Morash docji na trg ranije. Mnogo ranije. Tipa 3 popodne.
- Kad jednom udjesh u tor (kad god to bilo jer josh milion, ali buvalno milion ljudi oko tebe pokushava da uradi to isto), dakle kada jednom udjesh u tor, mozhesh da izadjesh ali se vishe ne mozhesh vratiti.
Udjesh u tor u tri popodne i bolje da si se unapred najeo, ispishao i po zhelji i potrebi otrovao izborom otrova, jer ti pomeranja nema narednih 9 sati. Jedina rech koja mi pada na pamet je "nehumano".
Nikako nisam mogao da se otmem razmishljanju kako cje ostalih devetsto devedes devet hiljada devetsto devedes devet turista "photoshopirati" celu prichu da bi krajnji rezultat bio:
"Vau, dochekao si Novu Godinu na Tajms Skveru!"
Chak imash i ekstra sliku na Internetu uz neobavezno-uobrazheni komentar: "Bilo je taaako do jaaajaaa !"
Ruku na srce, ja sam imao svoj momenat koji me vanzemaljizovao od ostatka prisutne mase.
U jednom momentu, pred kraj tih 9 sati neverice, rekoh Adrianu: "Voleo bih da chujem 'Firework'".
Pozheleo sam, kao i proshle godine u Torontu, da u proslavi Nove chujem tu pesmu.
Do tog momenta nisam razmishljao ni o kakvim zheljama vecj sam proslavljao sve shto mi je zhivot do sada pruzhio i shto sam dozhiveo. Chudnim putevima sam ishao u zhivotu i josh chudnijim se krecjem ovih proteklih 5 godina, vishe sam nego zadovoljan svim do sada uchinjenim, postignutim i dozhivljenim, tako da mi zaista nikakve zhelje nisu ni padale na pamet. U celoj kulminaciji transformacije moje lichnosti u ovih proteklih par godina, zbira svih mojih mana i vrlina, kroz glavu su mi prolazila dva dalja generalna pravca kretanja:
- da se predam svetu u koji ne verujem, zhivotu kojeg se plashim i koji me ni malo ne zanima
- da poverujem da je mogucje sve shto zamislim, sve chemu se nadam i ma kako nesavrshen bio, da ipak mogu uraditi sve - dok verujem u to.
Posle vishesatnog nadasve strpljivog chekanja, dodje konachno 11:15 (zacrtani tajmer), palim spravu, masa je i dalje oko mene generalno zbunjena celom "manifestacijom", tu i tamo pokrenuta povremenim muzichkim ritmovima i impulsima. Samo shto sam se sredio, kada je pochelo najintenzivnije ikada patriotsko iskushenje koje sam dozhiveo: Morao sam da gledam i slusham americhki audio/video pozdrav svojoj armiji.
Brate...
We need more Overlords. You need to construct additional pylons. Supply depots required.
Nizale su se pesme za redom: marines, navy, kurac palac, tatatatira... Dozhiveo sam pravu, iskonsku, najistinskiju americhku propagandu svojim rodjenim ochima i ushima. Oko sebe sam gledao hipnotisanu belosvetsku masu totalno izbezumljenu, ali ne u divljem i zhivom muzichko-ritmichkom smislu, ne, vecj praznu masu koja je tu doshla samo po svoju fotografiju sa Tajms Skvera za na inter-Net. Evo vecj deset puta kucam i brishem, pokushavam da napishem, opishem, docharam shta se u meni deshavalo u tom momentu, ali zalud. Ko razume, shvaticje.
Eventually, everything comes to an end. Izdrzhah to sranje, ponosan na sebe.
Kao nagradu za taj trud, a verujem i za sav ostali trud koji sam fizichki, psihichki, emotivno, multi-dimenzionalno dohiveo i prezhiveo, Bog mi je poslao "Fireworks".
Naravno da sam skakao. Naravno da sam vrishtao i dozhivljavao fleshbek kontinuuma koji traje 34 godine, minus ono vreme kad nisam pravio sranja jer sam bio bash mali pa nisam mogao da do'vatim. Naravno da sam bio jedini koji je skakao i vrishtao.
Niko drugi oko mene nije.
"Ti si lud", reche mi Dejvid zbunjeno-ukocheni azijat-severnoamerikanac.
Naravno da sam lud. Shta drugo.
Srecjna Vam Svima Nova Godina 2012, vatrometi moji !
