dropp

waking up- shaking dreams from the hair- sometimes i dare to remember. sometimes i dare to dream on. sometimes, although less and less, I dare creating possibilities.

tonight i woke up meandering trough the futures, and picking up the ones i liked the most. no, not liked- found the most challenging. one of them wore an image of me falling from 20 store building. 

and it suited pretty well, might I add. 

dropp, with a double p. that is how i see it. just another way of saying- i'm tired. exhausted. 

enough

enough

enough.

please make me turn to other side to the pillow, close my eyes and go back to dreaming.

and this one is for the loves which were meant to die

just to give birth to phoenixes

of life yet to be

who might take their time

to rise from the ashes

one day i will write like this, i promise

but till then,

this

l8 nite

-So, you think I am doing good?- I asked her, the Green woman. Priestess of wishes fulfilled. Dreams yet undreamed to be made true. 

She smiled. 

-What do you think?

I could have seen that coming. Whenever I ask her a question she answers with one. (If I bloody wanted to know what I think, I would talk with bloody mirror). 

-I think it looks like that. I have job. Friends. Semi lovers, weekenders. Perspective. Challenges. 

-But?- she can read me as a road sign. Black letters on yellow surface, that's what I am for her.

-But, there is something missing. There is too much order to maintain. Everything seems to be at its place.

She is silent. For 28 seconds.

-Isn't that what you wanted?

-That was what I was aiming to, yes. That's what I accomplished, yes. That's what I maintain, also. Order. 

-Well, my dear- her long ginger hair dances with the wind- Order is the thing you maintain. For as you already, and too well, might I add, know- Chaos does pretty good job at maintaining itself.

I hate how she can be wise when the only thing I need is simple yes.

Or no.

aw aww aaawwww!! (tsk tsk tsk)

Oh you shouldn't have kissed me and got me so excited
And when you asked me out I really was delighted
So we went to a pub in Belsize Park
And we cheered on England as the sky grew dark

Oh you shouldn't have kissed me cause you started a fire
But then I found out that you're a serial liar

You lied about your status
You lied about your life
You never mentioned your three children
And the fact you have a wife
Now it's England 2 Colombia 0
And I know just how those Colombians feel

If you hadn't passed out while I was talking to your friend
It could have really ended badly cause you very nearly had me
If he hadn't taken pity on my heart full of desire
I might never have found out you're a serial liar

You lied about your status
You lied about your life
You forgot you have three children
You forgot you have a wife
Now it's England 2 Colombia 0
And I know just how those Colombians feel

It is not in my nature to ever pick the winning team
Sometimes I think I'm happy then I remember it's a dream
Now it isn't in my nature to ever pick a winner
I always pick a bastard who would have me for his dinner

I can never possess the object of my desire
Cause he's bound to turn out to be a serial liar
OK I didn't mention my kids, I thought I'd wait a bit
But I am free and single and he's a lying git

Cause he lied about his status
He lied about his life
He forgot he had three children
He forgot he had a wife
And it's England 2 Colombia 0
I know just how those Colombians feel

So I got into a taxi and sobbed all the way home
Called my friend up in Sao Paulo and cried down the phone
I played some tragic music and I lay down to die
But later I woke and I hadn't stopped crying

You should never have kissed me, you tasted of deceit
Your perfume was Adultery but I'm not a piece of meat
So I'll be the one that you couldn't acquire
I found out in time you're a serial liar

You lied about your status
You lied about your life
And I pity your three children
And I pity your poor wife
Now you can go to Hell
I'm going to Brazil
Still it's England 2 Colombia 0

there

bristolin'

I broke the spell and uttered a sentence.

"We have to talk."

The words kicked back from the walls. The only thing which stayed was silence, hard and misunderstood. 

The bells rang.  

We spoke a bit, about weather and kids and work. His hand held mine. Glances never met. 

And there, on the border of our heavily guarded worlds we made a silent pact which pronounced us friends.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

We never saw each other again.

the traffic on (the?) M4

When we are together

elaborate witty jokes

or talks

decide to sign off for the time being.

Small talk takes a break

and runs away to the nearest woods.

(laughing out loud, I presume)

News of the day

are not new and not today's job

anymore

For he is around.

The list of questions

I gathered so carefully

unlists

and loses all the question marks

I want to be interesting

I want to enchant

I want to use all the little tricks

all the big words I know

But small ones

keep coming their way

and stop

and watch

and giggle

(I am sure)

Its him and me and silence.

"The traffic on (the?) M4

was awful today

wasn't it?"

not even that line would work

but hey, girl,

thanx for the tip.

aaargh!!!

a) the italic things in the last post are from wikipedia

b) I apologize for crazy formatting and i will never push that button again

maybe.

hihihi

St Pauls Carnival- facts and starters

The story of St. Pauls Afrikan Caribbean Carnival is one of a community's success; from its small beginnings in the late sixties to the present day. The whole event now takes over the neighbourhood of St. Pauls in Bristol and involves schools, community groups and host professional performers. Until recently St Pauls has had a large Afrikan Caribbean population demonstrated by the strong community spirit shown in this annual carnival.

It took ages to find a parking spot. So we were officially late for procession. Luckily, it also took ages for procession to start. So we were just on time. We saw feather~people. Dance of labelled T-shirts. Leaders of tomorrow. Hopes for today. The drums poured the rhythm in. The alligator~bike passed us by.

When crowd became too big and claustrophobic we found a grass spot. And sat, vine tasting, life feasting. Enjoying.

When I first came to Bristol, I was advised against coming to this part of town.

"St Pauls is an inner suburb of Bristol, England, situated just north east of the city centre and west of the M32. In the early 18th century it was laid out as one of Bristol's first suburbs. Its turbulent history has been marked by rapid growth. The area was damaged during World War II followed by large immigration after the war which left the area a bit neglected, with crime and drugs becoming common in St Pauls."

"Do you know the story about the carnival?"

"No.", I reply. 

I hear about immigration. I hear about race issues. Story leaves st Pauls behind and goes deeper. I learn that only white children were evacuated. Black ones stayed. To be bombed. I learn that one of those who were left behind never left. He stayed to help. To be the voice of neglected. PR of silent ones. Frightened ones. Even now, years and years after, every now and then guest pops in just to say how much of change he brought.  

I see feather~people and flocks of rainbows around us, on a grass triangle at the end of city road. 

I hear story about amazing man.

There is a myriad of theories explaining why people choose to behave in one way or the other. Empirically, and when it comes to others, I completely agree with some things said. Yes, you need love. Yes, you need crises. Yes, that which does not kill us makes us stronger but, to quote Gaiman: "...but which does kill us, kill us and aint that a bitch?" (Signal to noise, Neil Gaiman & Dave McKean).

How do you know which is which

how to choose

when to start

and when to stop?

Are great men born or nourished, in this series of experiments (LIFE)? 

Is fear there to stop us or to inspire us? (YES)

What will happen if I push this button? 

 

'

once upon I time, all I did was not to turn around.

the season passed.

the moon changed phases

and I had a chance not to turn around again.

missed it.

under the pale blue skies

I did not do the part of storytelling

the glances did not do the part of meeting

at first, there was not too much to say.

that is, until the lips met.

and when they do meet

who does the part of talking?

and when the talk is important

who breaches the silence's ties?

when all is as it should be

and all can be

as it did not happen...

and so it happened

sunday, 7:30 pm.
A friend and me are off to meet my biological father.
And this is how it happened:

me: (ringing the bell)
a woman at the other side of the door (double glazed glass, so we can't see her properly):
Who is it?
me: Jelena
(off she goes. we wait. after half a minute, she comes back)
and says: What do you want?
(still not opening the door)
me: To meet my biological father. (duuuh!)
(off she goes again. after a minute or so, she comes back. still not opening the door)
and says: There is no one at home
(guess she went to double check it)
silence.
a friend says, for I really really can't speak at the moment:
She just wants to say hi (me mumbles thank you)
she says: I have no idea who you are but this is none of your business.
me: Ok. when shall i come back?
(off she goes. we wait. and wait. wait a bit more)
she: Do not come back, Jelena.

I read.

in the last week, i've read three books- fugitive pieces, miss smilla's feeling for snow and curious case of the dog in a nighttime. i bought one, too- marvelous human mind, for 1.5 £ in Amnesty international shop at the Gloucester rd. always wanted to have one. Now I do.

My words, from the other hand, became scarce. Maybe it's just the city, it is overstimulating.

Maybe it is poets whom I made friends with- they speak my worries and my fears in a manner I could never do. 

Maybe the time has yet to come to write all of this down as supposed to.

When i become old and bold, and could not care less what would be thought about my words and deeds and genes.

 

upon arrival

airport express- 6 pounds one way, single. fountains in the centre. banksy just around the corner. internet + caffe the guy always greets me smiling. top of park street. meeting a friend.
hugging.
HSBC account. National Insurance number interview. yey I'm so finding my way around.
so off to london, then!
london. noise. kensington high. fulham broadway. victoria bus station- arrivals- traveller's inn.
the glass of vine. sharing the table with turkish couple.
thinking in images of here and now.
of there and to be.


the way it will be.

nothing more and (!) nothing less.

game to fix.

singing:
i am leaving
i am leaving
but the struggle still remains.

announcing:

this blog continues in a week. thank you for your patience.

so so so

I believe in life
and its little spells
its little messes up too
which bring joy
and laughter
and sorrow

I believe that, one day
i will laugh as hard as I did
I will smile as wide as I tried
with someone by me side
someone with a smile, too.

well, I hope.

The hope grows
the life knows
while I wander.

a faerie one

She' s pregnant with love
In the springtime
She takes hints
and breaks the fences
around hearts.

she says:
"I' m no one's girl.
that's why I do what I do.
Break what I take.
Smile.
Go away.
And come back.

No longer fearful
She learned how to use
skills she was given
(D.I.U.?)
and play
praying to find the strenght

to forgive

to the ones who did not mean

what they said

to the ones who did mean

what they have done.

because

He knew me and I could talk to him
Like with no other

that's why i left.

post festum

i will remember you.

i will remember how you held my hand

and how your fingers entangled mine

how your hopes dived in future

& how the future screamed

i will remember how

images started to fade

i did everything i could to keep them standing

oups, i forgot- the roots.

i will remember the tide of knowledge

which washed on beach we left our footprints on
tsunami of experiences past

mermaids of enchanted today

I won't forget.

not out of hormones' urge

to remember excitement

not out of who i am

and life made me be

not out of rage which crossed the path

but because of shipwreck

i might become

and i didn't

because I choose

once upon a long lost time

to remember,

too.

love #2

the best subject, isn't it?

lost in the endless depth of intersex relations
sometimes I am too blind to recognize
all of those types of love
i am surrounded with

like, for example

the love of those who come to spend a few hours with you
before you fly
just to let you know
"forzza ragazza, to je samo leteci shleper"
or of those who laugh the night away with you
even if you swear in other language afterward
especially if you do.
or of ones who promise to chase you
all the way to bristol
if you do not come back to budapest
or just wait for you at belgrade train station
out of nowhere

it all happened in two days
it all happened in myriad of ways
it all happened for the sake of love
(and some hilariously good time
dirty talking in car
chain smoking next to fountains
or just walking
asking
wandering
up above the clouds)

or, even more magical
the love of those who claim the right
to call themselves your family
who cherish you despite your craziness
who are there for you even before
you know to recognize faces
or sounds
before you learn how to laugh or write or respect
people
friends
family
and love itself.

this bit is for me mum
and to you who let her know
this http
tsk tsk tsk
thank you love you guys

love

In England, you can drink French wines having universal talk.
In Bristol, I can feel sad for not getting a job but still look over a hill and realize how close I am to my goal- after which, let's be honest, I won't be still nor peaceful. I do not think I will ever be still or peaceful- but that's mine baggage to wear.
Interview today- no job. But yes a person! I met a good person, recently moved to Bristol too and I will see him when I get back. That counts, right? Riiight?
Well, it better count otherwise I would just feel pointless. Almost.
Anyway, drinking French vines having universal talk...
I think I am ready to write about love.

Love.
I love love.
I love the feeling, I love the inspiration I get from it, I love the thrills and chills and waking up with someone's name on me lips. I would also love if it could last longer than few months, as it usually does. I would love the most, to be perfectly frank, if that could evolve to intimacy. Intimacy, between two people (in my case) different sexes, intimacy which takes time to be built. Intimacy, I do not think I will go for ever again.
It just hurts too much.

Being a love kid, geographically handicapped, with everything which happened in between, I seriously doubt I am made for it. Which is a shame, really. Which is, I guess, just another kilo on the backpack.
I can carry it, for a couple of miles.
Couple of continents, at least.
Couple of stories, exchanged glances, mornings of confusion, emails of poetry. And minutes/hours of "will he write back?", "will he call?", "does he like me?" and "Iva, what do you say?" (Jovana, Comi... you get the point)
I never understood why would anyone like me.
I want that to be known.
For there is more of us.

And that's why this is all about. I do not want anyone else to feel like that.
Ever again.

....

Also, I did not get any of two jobs.
Which does not make me very cheerfull.

long story short

I need a job.

found a flat which i can move in.

got daffodil today from a nice person
who took me around the views of town
(thank you)

i need a job

i need a job

not feeling well, also

:P, stupid neurotransmitters!
you really know how to choose time when to flow around :P

fatal

How good is he?

how warm are his eyes

you'll see it's not a reprise

did he arrive

too late and too tethered away

to put on his suit and his tie

once upon a time
in a land far far away
over the bridges
down in the tunnels
lost in the woods
& streets, massive buldings
the dream was born.

how good is he?

how warm is his heart

or ego telling him which place to park

did he relate, the message is clearly hardly

grounds for dismissal outright

grounds for dismissal outright

the more things happen
less words i have
today i spent the day
with english version of Sara
gosh! i have so many family members
there's so much yet to learn

so little to be afraid of
imagine...

i wake up and wait up

when anger's in fashion

this day helped me
to understand some things about me
which make me run and hide
which make me love and care
all in one and one in all
and which would probably make Qma smile
for he was right
which would also make Freud freak out
hehe..

i wake up and wait up

it echoes through the mansions

I never understood
why would anyone care for me
that is, until people started to care
in a ways far out of imagination
and although I always fell for not so good ones for me
i've learnt the bloody lesson:
you can't fight the roots
but you can make them strong
and wait for the blossoms

i wake up and wait up

when april's in may, oh uh oh

ever told you how much i like pathetics?
(that's not even a word in English, btw)
i follow my path
i can do whatever i want
(like the deer the dogs chase)
askjhsadkjhsadjhdvs

i wake up and wait up

the answers are fatal

the answers are fatal

and so can anyone else
no matter how deeply injected by excuses
no matter how strongly afraid of victories
no matter how many no matters
rush trough his/her head.

when i wait up and wake up

the answers are fatal

I'm no different from anyone else
Neither is he

is he truly out of sight

if he's truly out of mind

we are who we make ourselves be
there is us before
and us yet to come

sleep well,
me love

dare to dream the life away.
dare to follow it.

who they are

just a part:

http://www.myspace.com/bristoltroyka

left bank

We went there to listen to the Balkan sound

& met them

the ones who play the ones who play the ones who play around
Vlada and Jannet and Sophie and Miska and Duncan and more

couple of hours later -waltz in the kitchen of Redland
(Vlada- accrdion, Sophie- Flute, Miska- guitar. Duncan, too.)
somewhere just before the dawn

I spoke to ukranian version of Fli
just older and wiser and more relaxed
he told me my accord is minor E
and thought me how to play it

then i spoke my poems
and he played along

2 hours of sleep
almost fainted near Hortfield sports centre
got back home
dreamt about the night

.......

a few hours before
Beccy drove me by garage where my father parks
his car.

i know where he lives.

sorry english ones

ispostavilo se da je covek koji je prema meni bio zaista divan
neko o kome ljudi...pa...bas i nemaju puno toga dobrog da kazu
( da ne kazem nista, a kako mi jeste bilo receno)

ispostavilo se da je druga osoba koju sam upoznala ovde
jako dobar prijatelj nekoga ko je s njim svasta prosao
i kome se, kako stvari stoje, ne bas vratilo
ono sto je dao.

eto ti ga sad.

menjaju li se ljudi ili jok?

verovati ili ne?

(mislim da je veooomaaa ocigledno sta cu ja odgovoriti
prijatelji, ne uzmite mi za zlo ;) )

the broken ones

we love them
we love to think
we will fix them
make them 'appy
no matter the cost.

reality, though, encounter our hopes
and not in a good way

the men
who are bad to us
are bad to us
and that's it

we can try to grasp it
travel a zillion miles
to comprehend it
but- in the end
they do choose their ways
same way we do ours

and they are the ones
to feel sorry for
at the end of the day

we are the ones
who chose to love them
and only because our little flaws
(simple as that)

i know, i guess
i shared me with many
and there were only two
whose shoulders I chose
to cry upon

one, a good one
who turned out to be bad
the other, a bad one
who just turned in.

for me brother fellow traveler

your birthday was more fun
when you proposed to marry me
due to anchor
and balloons

fly here if you dare

'appy Bday!

echo

today i spoke to ellie
of many stories
and many experiences

started to feel like home
somewhere between st nicholas market
and bristol social care agency
(joe, you have no idea who you're missing)

seagulls and pigeons, along with swans
took care of our ears when we decided
that england is a place to be
and Now the time.

(despite the weather
despite the articles
despite the men)

that's good.

for I cried just an hour before.
due to a person
who i do not comprehend
but it's a culture thing, right?

right.
...

tonight, I almost went
to the place my father lives
but as there is still no job
no place to officially live

i wait.

synthesis

as i will never ever manage to lead this blog
the way i want to
i decided just to put random thoughts on it
(excuse. excuse. excuse.)
:P

today we went to see comedy gig
on the other side of town
and we laughed.

i have muscle ache for i spend the days walking up and down
hills and stairs
chatting with people and handling out CVs and letters
good luck might be coming
I will pray to that

tonight the sadness got to me also
sneaked in when i wasn't looking
So I found me walking and wandering
why the f*** am I here
what the f*** am I doing
how I will be dissapointed
how everything is bound to change
and so on

but it is the way it's supposed to be- the storms of endorphin waves
in the land of many weathers

which i understand not.
which seems to be different universe
so I guess it's time to take me tail and extra limbs out of the box
and be alien as well.

still- the fact that the bus driver says hello every time he sees me
(after the vocabulary of serbian GSP beasts)
cheers me up in the morning better than coffee.

...

the brist' list

1. Airline psychology: when I was doing CBT (for dummies :D) against fear of flying, the collegue told me not to talk to people but to try to overcome fear by myself. I did not listen then. I did not listen two days ago, also. (bad client, sorry Vlado)
The person sitting next to me, Jamie (male person), had patience to endure 25 mins of my panic attack (bless him). I just had to buy him drink after that, he just had to chat to me more because he got a drink so somewhere above Belgium he offered to give me a ride. From Bristol airport, after the last flight.
If there wasn't for him, I would have not just to pay ridiculus amount of money to get to Puneet, but would also stay one collegue short- Jamie is a psychology teacher, into Jungian analysis. And yup, we had a great talk on the plane, details of which would probably be too boring for most of you.
Luck, ay?
But actually, it just started... Jamie does not know Bristol well + his battery conveniently died so no GPS and as expected we were lost before finally reaching second roundabout, Tesco & Blockbuster on the corner in 1 am. Never mind, we hugged goodbye. Stayed in touch.

Then I met Puneet. I will make special post about him, he's the best host I ever had.

And then me friends...everything went just amazing...

elem

Sutra letim.

I shta god da krenem da pishem izgleda neopisujuce za trenutak. Frka mi je, jeste. Mirna sam, apsolutno. Blagoslovena sto me neki mnogo dobri cuvaju, citaju, misle..

Nije mi frka od leta samog toliko. Vise od onoga sto me ceka- kada se okrenem, u daljini se vise i ne nazire tacka od koje nema povratka.

I ne mogu da verujem- koliko je lako jednom kad se krene. I koliko izgovori gube na snazi kad ih u razloge pretvoris.

Moja je zelja jednostavna- necu da mi bilo sta dise za vratom. Necu da zamisljam ako mogu da vidim, cujem i probam. A to sto je toliko toga bilo do sad, pa... to valjda samo dize cenu, ne?

Bice sve ok, jel' da? Ma da.

Volem. Iz osmog distrikta budimpestanskog, preko sveta i planeta.

fala braco sestre sto ste tu.

hm hm

the day before departure.

ok.

the night.

in this very night i want to thank following people for their support on all the ways which ultimately led to this one:

1. my parents (as in couple)- for making Jeja where there was none. although they planned no such thing.

2. my grandparents- for creating the first thirst in the endless search for knowledge on this rocky road we like to call life.

3. my little sister Sonja for every hug in the right time.

4. my friends. Tzo, for putting my mind to the right place in time. Q, for reality shock and keeping up with my hypochondria once upon a time. Igor, for each and every night, be it absint or pure delight. Iva, for finding her so wonderful never to lose her again (and you know how often i use "never", girl). Zmaya Maya for signs and cyber Gods empowering
Belgrade night watchers: Marta, Sanja, Sloba, Chivitli, Marina, Johny D King, Jelena O
The guys from the block: Sasa, Vlada, Raco, Nikola, mali Golub .
Internationals: Tobias, Robbie, Orsi, John, Darek, Stephen, Anna.
Buda & Pest wanderers: Mehmet (mr Cool), Atilla, Milos
Novi Sad life wakers.
....... all of you who thought me what is it all about- people, nothing more, nothing less.

thank you.

now i feel ready to go and see what will happen.