Srbijica

The Dissident Blog


13.01.2017.

The ultimate MUST


"We must free ourselves from systems that no longer serve us..."

I rarely quote but today is not just any day.

The guy whom I quoted, Stefan Siegel, is a visionary thinker as well as a living proof that not all the people in the fashion industry are shallow dumbasses (wink).

I've got nothing to add to this revolutionary call of his, but I have a minor remark.

"Must" should be replaced by "should".

Since as nearly anyone who grew up in Serbia can tell you:

Ништа се не мора сем да се умре.

12.01.2017.

Smrad Pada iliti (ocekivani) Pad Smrada


Hapsenja zbog napisanog ili izgovorenog mi uvek izazivaju jezu. Ma koliko da je uhapseni moja susta suprotnost  - po politickom stavu, karakteru, nivou obrazovanja, stepenu inteligencije i svemu ostalom - u svakom od takvih hapsenja vidim sebe. Vidim se cak i onda kada mi se, onako sasvim licno i intimno, uhapseni gadi kao osoba. No, ova u Srbiji ucestala hapsenja zbog verbalnog delikta, pored jeze bude mi i nadu. Smatram ih pouzdanim znakom da je "Lucky postao malo nervozan". A ja mLogo volEm to kad Lucky postane nervozan...

Svesna sam da je tlo na kome zivim djubriste, i da pad jednog smrada ne znaci nista doli da ce biti zamenjen nekim drugim smradom. Znam da ovoj crnoj rupi planete nikada nece svanuti, jer mrak ne tvore samo smradovi na vrhu drustvene piramide, mrak proistice i odozdo, iz mentaliteta obicnog puka. Vodje su samo odraz onih koji su ih izabrali. Pa ipak, ipak, uzitak je gledati ih kako padaju. Oni psihicki stabilni, poput Kostunice i Tadica, koji se ne uzive previse u ulogu Velikog Vodje, odlaze bez pada. Jednostavno odsmrde u zaborav. Ali ovaj sadasnji nije od tih. O ne, ovaj nimalo nije od tih. Ovaj se uziveo, on se bas bas uziveo, i to ce njegov pad uciniti Majkom svih padova, sto bi rekli Arapi.

Bilo bi lepo da kad taj dugo prizeljkivani momenat nastupi, ne budem u tolikoj meri oprhvana sopstvenim problemima i brigama, da mi ne preostane snage da uzivam u prizoru. Bilo bi lepo, za promenu.

12.01.2017.

com.pogan com.prijatelji


"Onog momenta kada vas je moje dete slušalo iz kupatila dok ste mi uručivali poziv...pa rat prijatelji! Rat! Nema nazad!"  (Jelena Macic via Twitter)


Neki bi i da budu disidenti i da im deca ne budu izlozena traumama.

I ja bih i da budem disident i da mi deca ne budu izlozena traumama.

Zato nemam decu.

p.s.

"Rat prijatelji!" (sic). Volim ironiju,  i cesto joj pribegavam, al' da pogan u uniformama nazovem prijateljima... ako je i za ironiju mnogo je. Sa druge strane, Macicku, kako vidim, para-drzava prevaspitava na finjaka, sve po bontonu i protokolu, urucivanje poziva i te fore (desetine 'iljada pratilaca na drustvenim mrezama ipak nisu za potcenjivanje), kod mene, anonimne i na drustvenim mrezama neeksponirane, to je bilo vise u stilu 48-e i crnih koznih mantila: pristignu nakon zalasaka sunca (da ne gledaju komsije), u'vate pod misku i odvuku u mrak. A taj mrak, to nije bilo kakav mrak. To je mrak koji iz'eda ljude ("'De je Nour*?Sta je s njom" "Ma, talasala nesto, pa je poj'o mrak..."). Kad se uzme u obzir ta razlika u protokolu, i razlika u poimanju (pogan VS prijatelji) postaje razumljivija.

*Nour, arapska verzija slovenskog imena Jelena. Kuriozitet je da znaci "svetlost", te se upotrebljeno u kontekstu dobija igra reci "svetlost je pojeo mrak".

10.01.2017.

Winter blues


I kao što govorahu drevni mudraci: "Gde nije za palme, nije ni za ljude."
p.s.
Niste se nikad družili sa drevnim mudracima? Pa i vidi vam se...



10.01.2017.

Post FSH post


Dvoumim se da li da izbrišem prethodni post ili da ga ostavim kao trajni podsetnik da prvi dan menstrualnog perioda treba provest' u krevetu, uz turske serije i slatkiše, a ne pisat' blog il' upuštat' se u bilo koju drugu mentalnu aktivnost koja zahteva uračunljivost.

05.01.2017.

FSH post


Osta svet bez još jednog mudonje...



01.01.2017.

The Inexplicable / Neobjašnjivo


I kada dodje vreme objašnjavanja, kako da objasnim paradoks:

svoju želju, objavljenu pre tačno godinu dana na ovom blogu, da ne preživim dolazeću 2016. godinu

 … i sve one akcije, poduhvate i trud, koji sam tokom te iste 2016. godine, uložila u preživljavanje.

- - -

 And when the time of explaining comes, how to explain the paradox:

my wish, divulged exactly a year ago on this blog, not to survive the upcoming year 2016

 … and all the actions, ventures and endeavor, throughout that same 2016, which I made in order to survive.

 

31.12.2016.

Post na službenom putu


Post od prekjuče, naslovljen "Kapitalizam za početnike", otišao je na službeni put.

Vratiće se onda kad njegovom autoru postane nebitno to što mogućnost da ovaj blog čita, pored čitalaca i fellow-blogera, ima i jedna kategorija (para)državnih službenika od milja nazvana "pogan".

30.12.2016.

"Catch-22


... says they have a right to do anything we can't stop them from doing."

29.12.2016.

Justification


I am temporarily crushed by a common cold, a flu, or alike. There are tasks to be done, a pretty urgent tasks, about kilometer from here, in the suburb’s main street. But I am to weak to get out of bed.

 As I lay idle in the darkness of the room, my mind is gradually filling up with the memories that, in normal circumstances, I have no time to recall.

 It was back in my school days. I used to be sick, suffering from the same winter disease as now. Headache, muscle ache, fever, soar throat, running nose… the usual stuff. In an early morning, I would get out of bed, dress up, and go outside, exposing my fragile, fevered body to freezing subzero temperature, harsh Belgrade winds and a dreadfully exhausting walk.

 Where did I go to?

 To a place called “dom zdravlja”, or literally, “the home of health”.

 Not that I expected to regain my health there though. I was savvy enough to know that the infection was viral and that nothing could be done but waiting that the body’s own immune system clears the virus off.

 Why did I go to that “no health” place than? Why did I deprive myself from the much needed rest and the warmth of the heated room? Why did I concisely expose myself to risk that the flu progresses to sinusitis, otitis, pneumonia or, in the case of weak, undernourished body as was mine – even tuberculosis.

 The reason was “opravdanje”. Justification. A piece of paper that I had to submit to the system – a school system, state system, totalitarian system, you-name-it system – in order to be granted something that was essential for my own physical survival – the right to rest when I am ill.

 Despite bearing the reputation of a rebel, I don’t remember ever complaining about the procedure. Despite all the health risks, pain and discomfort, I was, each time I was sick, obediently fulfilling the task of obtaining “justification” to rest from "the home of health".

 Why? Who for?

 If that so called “education” was for my own benefit (“education” – what a nice name for useless rote learning) why did I have to justify my absence from school with medical report?

 If the system cared about me and my well-being why did it deprive me from the warmth and rest at the time when I desperately needed both?

 It was nothing but an obedience training. The system was teaching me from an early age that I must adhere to the rules even when they are clearly not for my benefit. Even when they cause me tremendous discomfort. Even when they worsen my health. And even then when they put me in a potentially life-threatening situation.

 As horrible as that.

 ***

 Back to the present.

 Why do I have to go to the suburb's main street today or tomorrow? Why am I again in the situation that I have to deprive myself from warmth (not that I have much of that in this filthy apartment) and rest?

 Oh well, just some banking, ATM, currency exchange stuff. I need to take my hard earned money out (there were the days this month when I worked from 4 am till midnight, does it sound hard enough?) and to deliver it to the parasites living in the big, fancy apartment next door. They are something that I suppose to call “my landlords”. In Serbian, it sounds even more sinister– they are my “gazde” (literally – my owners).

 Tenancy.

Obligation to pay for something as essential as the living space to those who have much more of such space than they need.

 One more monstrously cruel situation that systems plants to you as normal.

 ***

By the way, just few hundred meters from this filthy studio that I am paying rent for, there is a comfortable 5-room apartment in which,  ever since I was a child, I have legal right to reside.

Why don’t I?

Well...


… ne znam kako da ti reknem, a da ne prekršim one lekcije o držanju jezika za zubima, što su me ih naučili pre što su me pustili iz one zgrade sa rešetkama što je od milja zovem Gulašvic…

 


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