muzika

One day you will discover the true power of music. I still don't understand it but I know it exists. There are not many things that can create emotion out of thin air or recreate a memory like music does. I remember love through music. Some of the saddest moments in my life have a melody that takes me back to them. 

Hate. 

I dedicated a particular song to you the moment you were born. Because it was a song that tied my earliest childhood memories of the people I loved and I wanted to embed that love into you. It's sang by our family, but you will remember it as my voice. And it sings about unconditional, undying, love that is a beginning and the end. I read so much into that song, way I sang it to you, pace,what I repeat of the lyrics. Everything was deliberate. Because all of that is what music is. And everything is important. 

I told you how much you changed my life. And this is another way you did it. What I listen to changed. How I perceive music changed. 

One day I would like you to discover Brian Eno. He wrote music that can be looped. To me that's fascinating but I haven't met anyone else who shares my enthusiasm.

And my favorite song is The big ship. If you research it well enough, you might find out why.

Until then, you are my first and last love. 

Tata

Sulan the Legend

Sulan was an IT guy. He sat quietly in the corner of the bar we used to hang out in. Played his mock casino games, watching basketball or just reading the news. Paper news. He was that generation. He'd lick his finger before changing the page. But he was more than just a quiet guy. He loved heavy metal. That's not common among sixty year olds. His humor was as dark as his taste in music. Almost like a Russian. You could argue he was funny like a Fin. He would probably like that pun. 

Sulan used to choose his words carefully, speak softly and refused to repeat himself. If he spoke, everyone paid attention. Not necessarily because of the potential impact of his words but because we wanted to be reminded of the sound of his voice. In case any of us gets blessed with him calling us on the street. Some day that he did call him from across the street but they were in a hurry and he had a walker so nobody can be sure. Like Sulan, it's a legend passed around that he existed outside of Stugan. That rhymed. It's a shitty rhyme, but I dare you to make a better one writing about a dead person. Also, a better break of the fourth wall. Sulan would have liked it.

So stay strong Sulan, and rest in peace.

Legend on up there 

jezik

Reč je zajebana stvar. Može biti rič. Često je riječ. Di su granice reči? Što je nacija? Gdje je kraj jednoj a početak drugoj? Kojim jezikom govore Srbi u Hrvatskoj? Hrvati u Srbiji? Kom se bogu molimo mi koji se slolidarišemo sa onima koji su rekli da ako bog postoji, moraće da moli za oprost. 

Pivaj, pevaj,pevaj. Sve je pisma,sve je pjesma, sve je pesma. Pusti glas. 

guilt

For decades now I battle with a very simple issue. How do I honor my existence? How do I honor people I view as crucial to the possibility of me writing this? And through my learning I encountered some people that ideology I subscribed to for the most of my life views as vile. I owe my existence to choices made by people like Stalin and Churchill. 

And I never liked Churchill, especially since I learned about the cost of WWII Indian territory paid. But that sacrifice gave my ancestors a chance. Among other people's sacrifices. 

That being said, as much as I find it conflicting I am faced with the reality that I feel grateful to Churchill for his choices. And guilt when I face the people of the Subcontinent. 

I'm inspired to hear that I made someone's life easier. 

Maybe my gratitude for the sacrifice inspires someone in that far corner of the world from mine. 

rođendan

Uskoro će biti tvoj rođendan. Šesti. Još uvek mi je teško da se pomirim sa time da nisi komad hleba koji ne razumem već osoba sa svojim mislima. Mišljenjima. Željama, osećanjima, radoznalošću, zaključcima, potrebama izvan osnovnih bioloških. 

Ovaj rođendan dočekujem sa istim strepnjama. Ali drugačijim pristupom. Za ovaj rođendan želim da ti dam aspiraciju za samostanošću. Želim da te naučim da mi kažeš ne.

Počeo si da treniraš džudo. Sad je to igra, ali vremenom će postati znanje kojim ćeš moći da povrediš nekoga. Bez obzira na razlog zbog kojeg povrediš nekog, ako tvoja mama i ja uradimo ono što je naš posao pravilno, nećeš se osećati dobro ako svoju veštinu upotrebiš. 

Ali treba da budeš jači od ljudi koji te okružuju. Mentalno više nego fizički. Svako može da stvori mišiće. Malo ko može da očuva karakter. 

Jednom kad izgubiš karakter i postaneš svestan da si izgubio svoje poštovanje, posvetićeš ostatak života kažnjavanju sebe u pokušajima da to vratiš.

I tu dolazimo do moje strepnje. 

Plašim se dana kad neću biti tu da te naučim nešto. 

tvoj trag na uniformi

Svakog dana kad se probudiš, odabereš niz maski koje ćeš pokazati svetu. Te maske su identiteti kojih možda nisi svestan uvek. Način na koji ih nosiš svetu govore kakva si osoba i koje vrednosti čuvaš. Te maske su uloge koje igraš u životu. 

Neke od tih maski su posebne i to koliko su posebne određuješ isključivo ti. Neke maske dolaze sa uniformama. 

Uniforme služe da bi se prepoznavali oni koji je nose i da bi bili odvojeni i prepoznati od ostalih. Neke uniforme, poput vojnih ili policijskih,moraju uvek biti čiste. Imaju obeležja koja govore istoriju osobe koja je nosi. 

Meni najdraža uniforma je moj kimono. Koliko god puta bio opran, ima tragove krvi. Moje i mojih protivnika. Najčešće dobrih prijatelja. 

U tome leži razlog zašto mi je toliko drag. Milost se najbrže nauči kad ti je protivnik neko sa kim si delio bol. Kad ne vidiš razliku između svoje i njihove krvi. 

najdraže mesto

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