fishizem

Sprememba bivališča....I moved

2008-02-16T21:02:00.000-08:00

Po skoraj tričetrt leta na Blogspotu, sem se na priporočilo in s pomočjo prijateljev, kot naprimer Zlobe in predvsem Piromana, ki je namesto mene opravil večino dela, preselil na Siol.
Blog torej odslej najdete na naslovu http://fishizem.blog.siol.net, kjer se nespremenjen nadaljuje.

The blog has moved to a new location written above. Only the location has changed, everything else remains the same. I'll try to write in English from time to time thou.

Nazaj k risalni deski.

2008-02-11T22:29:00.000-08:00

Nekoč sem bral članek o moških, ki veliko ali pa preveč gledajo pornografijo, ter se jim začne to odražati v vsakdanjem življenju tako, da ne morejo več normalno seksat. Ali pa sploh ne seksajo več, temveč vedno znova bulijo v ekran in si z roko vlačijo tiča.
Menda jim realnost več ne more pričarati tistega, kar jim ustrežljiva deklica ali dve na malem ekranu. Kljub temu, da čisto direktno z njo ali njima uživa nekdo drug. V mislih so te ženske njegove in zadovoljujejo njega.
Približek popolnosti ali pa velika razsipnost torej polagoma večata mejo potešitve in tako želje postajajo vedno večje. Slej kot prej postanejo nedosegljive. Nič jih ne more več uresničiti. Sreča je vedno en korak stran.
Že pred leti sem ugotovil, da moram začeti ceniti majhne stvari. Malenkosti, ki jih spregledam v vsakdanu, navidez nepomembne sekunde mojega dokaj razsipnega življenja. Povedano na kratko, začeti moram znova, saj se dolgočasje, ki ga čutim že odkar pomnim, veča in mi najeda, ter so meje, ki jih prestopam, da bi odgnal to dolgočasje, čedalje bolj kritične.
Tisto, kar je nekoč pustilo občutek potešenosti, danes ne dvigne niti utripa. Kar je nekoč povzročilo izbruh adrenalina in vročino, ki butne v obraz, kot rdečica mlade punce, ki so jo zalotili z očmi na moškem razporku, me danes pušča hladnega in ne zmoti puste mirnosti.
Ni več vročice sobotne noči, ni več mravljincev ob dotiku roke z roko, medtem ko strmiš v filmsko platno in upaš, da se trenutek ne bo nikoli končal. Ni več strahu pred bojem, ni več želje po samopotrjevanju. Ni več občutka, da živiš.
Če si bil nervozen in napet, ko si prvič spal z žensko, se je ta občutek razblinil v ravnodušnost najkasneje takrat, ko si spal s dvema hkrati. Če si se v otroštvu sramežljivo obračal stran na moški toaleti in se v puberteti spraševal, ali imajo tvoji prijatelji večjega od tebe, ter ali boš dovolj moža za punco, o kateri si sanjaril vsak večer in med poukom, sta se ta dvom in sramežljivost izgubila nekje med rjuhami na katerih si si s prijatelji delil plačano ali prostovoljno ljubezen.
Na enak način je izgubilo smisel in zanimivost vse ostalo. Fight postane enak prejšnjemu. Pospešek na motorju vedno isti. Celo veter se zdi kot, da zmeraj piha v isto smer in nese padalo vedno enako daleč.
Torej je čas, da začnem znova. Čas, da začnem z majhnimi stvari, dokler ne bodo velike spet zgledale ogromne. Se stradam tako dolgo, da bo kruh spet božanski meso pa se bo zdelo kot uresničitev sanj. Mežim dokler ne bo jutranje sonce spet zaslepilo moje oči.
Vsaj poizkusim lahko.

V čevljih tistega, ki me je naredil.

2008-02-06T23:55:00.000-08:00

Kot otrok nisem najbolj dojemal življenja, ki ga je živel moj oče. Obleka, kravata, zloščeni čevlji in vonj po tobaku ter žganih pijačah so bili le domač priokus spomina na varnost, ki jo je nudila močna moška prisotnost.
Ko sem pozneje mislil nanj in na stil življenja, ki ga je vodil, mi je vedno bolj ostajal le ta priokus, sploh glede na to, da je moja pot vodila v popolnoma nasprotno smer.
Že tako ali tako moram priznati, da mi je bila od nekdaj odvratna misel na redno delo, zaposlitev in sploh kakršnokoli pogodbeno zavezo drugemu človeku ali podjetju, ki se je še dodatno povezovala z občutkom, da je takšno življenje počasno, dolgočasno in nevredno svobodnega človeka.
Nemalokrat sem zavrnil možnost tudi bolje plačanega dela, ker je smrdelo po ponižanju, podrejenosti in občutku, da bi se s tem prodal. Ker bi moral podpisati papir, na katerem piše, da sem pristal na obveznosti in sem jih voljan izpolniti.
In, da ne bo napačnih idej, marsikaj sem pripravljen storiti za dovolj denarja. Celo stvari, katere večina kategorično zavrača. Nemoralne, okrutne, podle stvari. Pravzaprav, sem za zadostno vsoto denarja pripravljen storiti karkoli.
A za to obstaja razlog. In ta je svoboda. Neodvisnost. Finančna neodvisnost, ki vodi do popolne neodvisnosti. S dovolj denarja, se ne rabim podrejati nikomur, nikoli in nikjer.
Kljub očitni nezmožnosti prenašanja avtoritete, jasni asocialnosti, nekontroliranemu temperamentu in dejstvu, da sem popolnoma brez moralnih in etičnih vrednot, da ne omenjamo tega, da mi izraz "človeške pravice" pomeni ravno toliko kot krščanski agent CIE Osama Bin Ladnu, pa sem nekaj le podedoval po svojem pokojnem očetu. No, dve stvari. Slab vid in žilico za podjetnost. Da tudi jaz konstantno razbijam avtomobile zaradi neprilagojene hitrosti je gotovo naključje brez dedne povezave.
In ta podjetnost me je sedaj pripeljala do točke, ko sem stopil čez samega sebe in zapisal svoje ime na list papirja, ki ima v naslovu besedici "pogodba" in "zaposlitev".
Vem, tudi sam se sramujem in tega si ne bom nikoli odpustil. A glede na to, da vse ostale opcije dobrega zaslužka nosijo določene stranske učinke in, da se počutim dokaj starega za ponoven obisk zaprtih prostorov in kovinskih kletk, je to prvi korak do končne neodvisnosti.
A ne govorim o pokojnini ali čem podobnem. Tisti, ki sanjarite o rednem dohodku iz naslova pokojnine ali pridno varčujete v sklade in si gradite imaginarne stebre, ki naj bi vas nekoč hranili, ste v mojih očeh reveži, ki bodo zavrgli svoje življenje, ter ga zaključili bedno in žalostno.
Ne ne, morda sem obul čevlje tistega, ki me je naredil, a hodil ne bom po njegovih stopinjah.
To je le začetek, konec pa je odvisen od mene. In cilj je jasen ter dosegljiv. Predvsem pa dovolj blizu, da ga bo še vredno uživati.

Vre

2008-01-29T14:43:00.000-08:00

Dovolj!
Po tednu dni depresije, ki je situacijo v kateri se nahajam samo še slabšala, saj sem vlekel nase vso smolo tega sveta, mi je dovolj. Kot, da ni dosti sama beda nekega poštenega, normalnega dela in truda, ki tako ali tako ni nikoli nagrajeno, temveč postavlja človeka le v podrejen položaj, v katerem se zdi, da je dolžan ustrezati bolj in bolj, kriteriji pa neumorno rastejo, mi je sreča ta vikend obrnila hrbet in pokazala zobe.
Namesto mirnega, pijanega petkovega večera, z vključenim popivanjem, ostalimi opojnimi substancami in lepo žensko ob strani, sem jo gledal od daleč in se celo noč prerival s gručami pijanih, retardiranih in pobesnelih fantkov, ki se ne zavedajo kakšne so lahko posledice konca moje potrpežljivosti, bog ne daj še kakšnega vmešanja ostalih.
Namesto dobrega sobotnega žura v Ljubljani, sem kot stekel pes čakal Dars, da me je zvlekel iz Trojanskega predora, v katerem mi je odpovedal avto. Avto seveda ni bil moj, temveč sem ga vzel prijatelju, ker mi je intuicija govorila, da bo nekaj narobe in nisem hotel vzeti svojega. Intuicija je bila pravilna, le narobe sem jo razumel.
In namesto finega nedeljskega popoldneva pred televizijo, umirjen in stuširan po utrudljivem treningu, sem se trudil molčat in postavit telo v pozo, v kateri me natrgane kolenske vezi, ki sem jih staknil med sparingom, ne bi pripravile do kričanja.
Vsakič, ko sem poskušal svoje življenje peljati na drug tir in ga prilagoditi oz., bolje rečeno prirediti normam normalnega, se je zgodila ista stvar. Tako življenje kot ljudje me je popljuvalo in me vztrajno zavračalo.
Edini zaključek, ki ga lahko potegnem iz tega je, da mi takšno življenje ni namenjeno. In zdaj, bom ta namig še zadnjič v življenju upošteval, ter nehal sanjariti o čem drugem.
Živel bom tako kot znam. In storil isto kot so storili ostali. Poskrbel zase in se poscal na ostale. Depresije je konec. Spet sem besen. Spet sem jaz.
Besede "služba", pa priporočam, da se na tem blogu ali v moji bližini ne uporabi.

Vrelišče je blizu

2008-01-29T11:02:00.000-08:00

Vedno znova sem v življenju strmoglavljal nazaj proti dnu iz katerega sem se vzdignil, in skoraj se zdi, kot bi me nekaj poskušalo konstantno utrjevat, testirat in postavljat na prvo bojno črto, da bi se pripravil na tisti zadnji, glavni boj. Če je tako, potem me čaka težka borba, kajti preizkušnje so bile utrujajoče in neizprosne.
Mir, ni del mojega besednjaka in konec koncev ima tudi to svoje prednosti. Moja tri desetletja so bila vse drugo kot dolgočasna. Spoznal sem ljudi in doživel stvari, ki presegajo meje domišljije večine normalnih posameznikov. Večkrat sem se tolažil s tem, da tudi če umrem mlad, nisem zapravil svojega časa.
Vendar pa me moja pot pošteno utruja. Ni več tiste goreče zagnanosti s katero sem se upiral potezam nevidnega nasprotnika na šahovnici, ki jo živim. Vedno bolj stežka se spuščam v boj in se vedno hitreje umikam v svoj kot, da bi zajel sapo.
Morda je to karma, ki mi meče svojo rokavico v obraz, ter me sili v premlevanje vseh starih dolgov. Karkoli in kakorkoli že, morda je čas, da poravnamo račune.
In tako ponovno gledam torbe, ki kličejo po tem, da jih napolnim z oblekami in se odpravim. Naprej. Drugam.
Tako kot sem to počel nekoč. Zdi se kot, da je pretekla cela večnost, pa so le leta. V času, ko sem videl le cesto pred sabo in neskončne možnosti, ki jih prinaša s sabo. V času, ko sem kategorično odklanjal celo možnost, da bi kdajkoli dobil otroka, postal oče.
Še danes ne dajem obljub. Moja kri še vedno vreje. In še danes nisem našel miru. Moj dom ne obstaja.
In tako ponovno gledam torbe... Naprej. Drugam.

Toploto!

2008-01-24T11:17:00.000-08:00

Pogrešam toploto! Mehek, topel jutranji zrak v katerem buhtijo vonjave pokošene zelenice in rose, ki jo obliva. Barve cvetja, rojenega v pomladnem soncu, kričečega brez kičastosti.
Pogrešam jutra, ko se nasmejan kljub vsakdanjim skrbem, poženem iz hiše, oblečen le v kapri in majico brez rokavov, ter vedno znova s skoraj otroškim pričakovanjem prižgem motor.
Tiste mravljince, ki mi jih povzročajo sunki osvežujočega vetra medtem ko privijam nečloveško silo po cesti proti kavi z mlekom.
Srečne poglede svojih prijateljev, ki majejo z glavami in srebajo vsak iz svoje skodelice, vsi polni enakih občutkov kot jaz.
Pogrešam pomlad. Ponovno rojstvo. Začetek novega, ki ti da občutek, da tudi ti začenjaš znova. Občutek, da ni nič tako sivo kot se je zdelo še nekaj mesecev nazaj.
Zato hočem stran. Daleč od te dežele, ki me duši s svojim mrazom. Zemlje, ki me mesece in mesece grabi za vrat z ledenimi rokami in mi daje občutek, da se bom utopil. Države, ki me obravnava kot, da sem gobav.
Pogrešam toploto! Ženske roke niso dovolj. Potrebujem še dotik narave. Objem sonca.

Na gnili strani Alp

2008-01-21T22:02:00.000-08:00

V majhni državi in še manjšem mestu je živel fant po imenu Žajla. Žajla je bil živ in vročekrven fant, ki je slabo prenašal avtoriteto in splošno popularno neumnost ter retardiranost. Ker so drugi slabo prenašali njega, je večino časa preživel sam.
Njegov ponos pa hkrati ni posebno pozitivno vplival na njegove opcije preživljanja. Ker je želodec krulil, ga je bilo potrebno napolnit. Dela je bilo malo tako v regiji, kot v njegovem mestu, kar pa je bilo na voljo, bi pomenilo razumski in čustven konec za fanta njegovega karakterja.
Zato je Žajla počel vse, kar mu je prineslo kakšen tolar. Ker je bil iznajdljiv, hkrati pa drzen mali prasec, je njegov ugled rasel, njegovo ime pa seglo vedno dlje. Žajla je imel končno poln želodec, njegov ponos pa je ob tem ostal neokrnjen. Žajla je mislil, da je srečen. Na svoji poti, je Žajla našel celo prijatelje. Ljudi, ki so živeli podobno kot on in so razumeli njegova ravnanja. Ljudi, ki so ga imeli radi brez ampak ali če.
Nato pa je Žajla, nekje na preobratu tisočletja, spoznal dekle, ki mu je obrnila svet. Zaljubil se je do ušes in čez, ter našel muzo, ki mu je polnila misli tudi ponoči, ko je taval po ulicah.
Postala sta par in Žajla je naenkrat našel v sebi nov strah. Strah, da ga bodo zaprli in jo bo izgubil. Treba je bilo reagirati. V ihti zaljubljenosti, se je odločil. Spremenil bo svoje življenje. Požrl bo nekaj svojega ponosa in se prilagodil sistemu.
Žajla je zaprl vse pipice svojega dohodka in se spravil delat. Delal je vse, celo po kmetijah in v mrtvašnici. Delal je, kot da ne obstaja jutri. Prijatelji so ga gledali in molčali. Njihovi pogledi niso bili očitajoči. Bili so pomilujoči. Kot bi gledali nekoga, ki se je izgubil in morda ne bo našel poti nazaj.
Po nekaj letih bede in življenja iz dneva v dan, se je Žajla vpisal na univerzo. Odločil se je, da bo postal uspešen. Da bo napredoval po stopnicah, ki so zgrajene in odprte vsem. Toda Žajla se je zaračunal. Bil je slep.
In tako je Žajla, lačen in obupan, nekega dne požrl ves ponos, kar ga je še imel in kar ga ni odplaknilo z gnojem, ki ga je premetaval po kmetijah, ter odšel na Zavod za socialno skrbstvo.
Tam je prijazni teti, ki ga je bledo gledala čez pult češ, kaj pri vseh potencialnih kriminalcih pa ti počneš tukaj, povedal, da nima več sredstev za plačilo hrane in položnic, ter prosil za pomoč. Prosil je. Z vsako sekundo tišine, ki je nastala med njima, je umrl delček Žajle. Zlomila se mu je hrbtenica in ni več hodil. Plazil se je, tako kot ostali plazilci njegovega kova.
Teta, pa mu je mirno in vljudno povedala, da mu ne more in ne namerava pomagati. Da naj se izpiše s fakultete in gre na zavod za zaposlovanje, če preko študentskih del ne najde dovolj dela. Da naj neha fantazirati o boljšem jutri, temveč se raje sprijazni z usodo, pri čemer mu bo pomagala država in Zavod, ki mu bosta omogočila prijetno bivanje v peklu fabrike. Tam bo lahko skupaj s ostalimi prekletimi lizal tla tistih, ki mu bodo delili koščke, drobtinice pogače.
Žajla se je obrnil in se odplazil ven. Solze, ki so mu tekle po licih niso bile solze žalosti, temveč solze ponižanja. Solze razočaranja in bolečine, ki mu je bila prizadejana s posilstvom, katerega je pravkar nad njim izvedel sistem. Država, ki je nekoč prej, posilila njegovo družino. In medtem, ko se je spominjal, se je vedno bolj zavedal, zakaj se je nekoč odločil za pot, ki jo je tako dolgo hodil. Spomnil se je svoje družine in preteklosti, spomnil ponižanj in besa.
Žajla je spet začutil hrbtenico. Začutil je svojo vročo kri, ki mu je spet začela polniti mišice in divje poganjati srce, ki je nekoč tako rado bilo.
Vstal je, noge so ga spet nosile. "Nikoli več!" si je rekel in korakal naprej.

"Čakaj, a ni tvoja mama socialna delavka?", je vprašal fanta, medtem ko mu je v roke stisnil paketek, zavit v papir. "Ja, je. Zakaj?", je vprašal fant in mu podal zvitek denarja.
"Nič nič..." je rekel Žajla, "samo tako vprašam.", in z nasmehom na ustnicah zaprl okno avtomobila. "Nič nič...hehehe"

Jaz ne čistim!

2008-01-18T14:40:00.000-08:00

Ker so me kljub moji vljudni prošnji, da naj me posadijo na zadnji sedež avtomobila, vseeno uklenjenega postavili v železno ozadje policijskega kombija, sem roke z lisicami zvlekel pod nogami in si, tik preden so se odprla vrata vozila, potisnil prst v grlo. Bruhnil sem po kovinski steni in se nasmejal policaju, ki je vedel, kaj ga čaka preden bo lahko zaključil s smeno.
Vstopili smo skozi vhodna vrata v recepcijo ter nemudoma nadaljevali hojo na dvorišče. Eden od policajev je samo podal nalog ječarju. Pričakovali so nas.
Ne glede na to kdo si, te občutek, da si pravkar izgubil vse pravice, udari kot težkokategornik. Od strahu, da bi se opazila panika, sem si prepeval celo pot do prehodne celice v kateri sem moral preživeti prvo noč. "Naša draga Lidija, že dolgo si v armiji....." Glede na to, da je bila ura že čez polnoč, do jutra ni manjkalo več dosti.

Vedel sem osnove, a izvedba je bila še pred mano. Vedelo se bo kdo sem in od kod prihajam, vendar zapor nosi druga pravila. Ugled ulice se hitro poruši, če ga nisi sposoben potrdit. Potrjevanje, pa te lahko stane marsičesa.
Jutro je prišlo pozno, po dolgi, prebujeni noči, a vseeno prehitro, kot bi pričakoval svojo lastno usmrtitev. Vrata celice so se odprla in prestavili so me v sobo, ki mi je bila namenjena. Prišel je čas dejanj. In priložnost se je nemudoma ponudila.
Nisem še pripravil postelje in se razgledal okrog sebe v dnevni svetlobi, ki je svetila skozi lino v steni, ko je vstopil paznik in še en moški, kateremu se je videlo, da je zapornik, a je kazal obnašanje zaposlenega, svobodnega.
Hitro sem skapiral, da je dežurni ujetnik, ki skrbi za čistočo in red skupnih prostorov ter razporeduje delo ostalim kaznjencem. Njegova funkcija je spominjala na paznikovo, z razliko, da on spi v celici medtem ko se paznik vlači po svoji ženi.
Tudi on je hitro skapiral, da bodo nastali problemi. S pogledom je nakazal pazniku naj počaka in se postavil pred mene.
"Čistit!", je rekel in, ko sem ga bledo pogledal, nadaljeval:" Vsak kaznjenec mora opravljat skupna dela, ki jih določam jaz. Delu se ne moreš izogniti, če pa se boš poskušal, ti bodo odvzete bonitete."
"Kakšne bonitete?", sem vprašal, nemudoma znerviran nad njegovim odnosom. To je bilo to. To je najboljši možen začetek. "V zaporu sem, ti pa meni o bonitetah. Še pomembneje, o delu! Se ti je zmešalo!?"
"Nov si, obnašaj se!", je poskušal reči ukazovalno, a ni uspel skriti presenečenja in pomislekov. Njegov pogled k pazniku je bil poln vprašanj. Meni pa se je smejalo. Malo od panike in malo od tega, da se mi je jebalo. Slabše ne more bit. Tudi samica ima svoje prednosti. Dolgočasna, a varna.
Odločil sem se. Zdaj ali nikoli.
Stopil sem korak naprej, na kar sta podzavestno odreagirala z majhnim umikom. Skozi stisnjene zobe sem zarenčal:" Spizdi špecar!"
Nista si še opomogla od šoka, ko sem z normalnim, hladnim glasom in pogledom nadaljeval: "Najdi si druge delavce, z mano pa se ne pogovarjaj več. Jebem tebe in tvoje bonitete."
Ko se je zbral, je osamljen, saj je paznik nemo opazoval dogajanje, živčno začel pljuvati besede. " Sploh ne veš kaj počneš! Pa kaj ti misliš, kdo sem!? Hitro ti bo žal za tole! Kaj pa misliš, kdo si!?"
Ustavil sem ga nekje med blebetanjem. Zdaj sem bil že popolnoma v nadrejenem položaju. To kar sem hotel, sem dosegel. Beseda se bo hitro razširila. Potrebno jo bo sicer še potrdit, a začetek je odličen. "Slovenj Gradčan sem. Mislim, da nas je nekaj tu. Poznaš kakšnega?"
Ko je adamovo jabolko zdrsnilo gor in dol po njegovem vratu, medtem ko je pogoltnil slino, sem še zadnič zarenčal: "Jaz ne čistim!"

Kri se lahko da tudi drugače

2008-01-14T17:38:00.000-08:00

Medtem ko mi je mlad medicinski tehnik pumpal kri po cevki v vrečko, ter sem gledal SOSEDA, ki je prav tako krvavel v dobrodelne namene, sem nadaljeval brskanje po spominu izpred desetih let, ki se mi je prikradel že četrt ure pred tem, ko smo s HADom in PiROMANOM ravno oddajali prijavnice. Spomin je občasno prekinjala le silhueta luštne mlade medicinske sestre, ki se je gibala po prostoru in ob kateri sem začutil, da je v meni očitno še vedno dovolj krvi, da lahko preplavi eksterne dele telesa.
Za vekami sem videl...

Lesena miza za katero smo sedeli, je bila postavljena na dvignjeni ploščadi sredi manjšega lokala. Prostor je bil poln slik in okrasov, ki so v škotskem ambijentu pripomogli k temu, da nisi mogel dobro preceniti kakšno je v resnici število gostov.
Še utrujen od vožnje, sem sedel na robu klopi in grel svoje pivo z roko, zagrenjen ob misli, da so vsi ostali že daleč pred mano s pijančevanjem.
Slabo. To je vedno slabo. Lovit pijanost, medtem ko se ostali že odsotno nasmihajo bedastim komentarjem, ni bila nikoli moja dobra plat. Prenesem preveč alkohola in nekako ne znam pit bolj hitro kot sicer.
Prisedel je, brez da bi vprašal ali mu je to dovoljeno. Očitno mu je bilo dovolj dejstvo, da se poznamo in da smo pred leti hodili po istih poteh. Dolgi zamaščeni lasje in oblačila vojaških barv so dajala vedet njegovo poreklo tudi tujcu, čeprav je telo spretno skrivalo njegovo ljubezen do igle in obolelosti za Hepatitisom C. Celo jaz sem bil presenečen, da ima ta svinja še vedno več kilogramov od mene.
Napaka, ki jo je storil s tem, ko je prisedel, mu je bila spregledana, vendar pa to očitno ni bilo dovolj. Treba je bilo silit. Treba je bilo spraševat in se celo dotikat moje roke. Ko sem ga z besedo poskušal odslovit od mize, pa je storil drugo napako. Te mu nisem več spregledal. Čas je bil, da spravim ven malo stresa.
Njegov zamah je bil natančen, pest je letela v smeri moje brade, vendar pa je bila sila dosti prešibka, da se ji ne bi uspel izmakniti. Bes, ki me je zgrabil, ko sem mu zvil roko in ga prijel za lase, je bil tako enormen, da sem se za trenutek celo vprašal ali je upravičen.
Nehal sem se spraševati, ko je kljub temu, da se mu je glava zaletavala v stole, ko sem ga za lase po tleh vlekel proti izhodu, idiot še vedno poskušal žalit skozi zaenkrat še cela usta. Pot do izhoda se je spraznila v trenutku. Med ljudmi so bili pomešani tudi njegovi prijatelji, vendar kaj posebnega od njih nisem pričakoval.
Pred vhodom, sva obstala na majhnih stopnicah, zavarovanih z ograjo, ki naj bi preprečila, da bi kdo pozabil, da je takoj pred lokalom cesta. Tudi jaz nisem pozabil, a ko sem ga vzdignil in vrgel čez ograjo resnično nisem pogledal najprej levo in desno. Nemudoma za topim pokom, ko je s hrbtom udaril ob asfalt, je sledil še en pok udarcu avtomobila, ki je pripeljal ravno v tistem trenutku. Hitrost ni mogla biti velika, saj je prasca odkotalilo le nekaj metrov.
Tako jaz, kot voznik, sva mirno stala nekaj trenutkov, polna pričakovanja nad nadaljevanjem. Hotel sem že predlagati stavo, ko se je spet začel premikati. Heroin je dober analgetik, mater da mu jebem.
Zakorakal sem po stopnicah navzdol in se postavil pred njega, ko je končno spet stal na nogah. Voznik avtomobila ni imel posebnih idej o posredovanju, prav tako pa so očitno čutili gosti lokala, saj so nemo strmeli v dogajanje, navajeni podobnih situacij.
"Ubil te bom", je bila prva izjava, ki jo je še uspel izreči preden sem ga dvakrat udaril, da se je ponovno usul po tleh. Najprej levi, rahel direkt, da zavibrira in spravi iz ravnotežja, nato desni, močnejši, da vzdigne s tal in podre. Nisem tolkel s silo, hotel sem le, da obleži. Jeza se mi je že pomirila, ko se je kotalil pred avtomobilom.
Vstal je še najmanj trikrat, vsakič z vedno bolj razbitim obličjem in se postopoma spreminjal v drugega človeka. Ustnic nisi več videl, ličnici pa sta sevali v širokih razpokah ter kazali jezik. Oči kot breskvi, skozi katere je lahko razločeval le še svetlobo in sence. Vzdržljivost, ki sem jo redko videl. Krvi je bilo dovolj, da bi jo lahko pakirali in zamrznili. Šele, ko sem zakoračil naprej, da bi ga pohodil in končal agonijo, ki me je začenjala dolgočasit, so predme stopili njegovi prijatelji in me prosili, da neham.
Odstranili so ga še preden se je privlekla policija. Miren, ker sem vedel, da voznik ne bo gobcal, sem se začel gledati po rokah. Bila je njegova kri, jaz nisem bil niti odrgnjen. Za okužbo s hepatitisom, bi se mu krvavo oddolžil.

Ko mi je tehnik izvlekel iglo, sem se malo bled vzdignil s stola, in vedel sem, da nihče od čakajočih zunaj ne razume, od kod takšno zadovoljstvo na mojem obrazu. ZLOBA me je sicer opomnila na barvo stene, ki se je risala čez moja lica, a nasmeh in besede so jo hitro pomirile.
Čist sem. Kljub vsem fightom in kurbam. Kljub temu, da sem bedaku puščal kri.

Kot ponavadi,

2008-01-07T19:51:00.000-08:00

sem samo v opetih bokserkah sedel na postelji, ter užival v dejstvu, da sem spet doma, saj je to zame redkost. Nedelja, pozno popoldne, od doma pa sem odšel že v petek. Malo za tem, ko je odšla ona.
Ko je vstopila v sobo, sem sicer čutil neko napetost, vendar je bila ta zadnje čase pogosto prisotna in se nisem več posebej oziral nanjo. Bili so še bolj pestri meseci kot ponavadi, tako da sem bil skoraj slep za njeno nervozo in sumničavost.
Stopila je do postelje in ko sem že mislil, da se mi bo pridružila, je le stegnila roko in položila listek na odejo. Majhen bel listek, takšen za opomnike. Kratek oster pogled, tik preden se je obrnila in odkorakala iz sobe, me ni pripravil na šok, ki sem ga doživel, ko sem prebral z roko napisan tekst.
Vročina v glavi je naraščala prav tako hitro kot pritisk in razen misli, ki so mrzlično iskale pojasnitev, se v meni ni zganilo nič. Ne strah, ne sram. Presenečenje je bilo preveliko, da bi lahko čustva sledila umu.
Kako je to mogoče? In pomembneje, ali bi bilo možno, da je zoper mene uporabila trike, katere sem jo jaz naučil!?
Vedel sem, da je to konec zgodbe, ki je pisala skoraj tretjino mojega življenja. Tega mi ne bo odpustila. In prav je tako! Ženske, ki bi kljub temu ostala, jaz ne bi hotel imeti. Ljudje brez hrbtenice se mi upirajo, in ob meni nimajo kaj iskati.
Težko je bilo stopiti ven, in sesti poleg nje. Ljubše bi mi bilo, če bi kričala ali celo jezno udrihala po meni. Tišina in njen mrtev pogled sta mi dala vedeti, da se je že odločila. Da bodo vse moje besede zaman.
In sploh, saj ni bilo kaj reči. Listek, ki je nosil dokaz, da sem jo varal, sem vrgel na mizico med nama in si nemo prižgal cigaret. Ko sem pomislil, da bi tajil in se poskušal izvleči iz tega sranja, sem se zagabil samemu sebi. Ne bom. Toliko sem ji dolžan. Resnico. Ali vsaj del resnice. Toliko, kot bo lahko zdržala.
In medtem, ko sem ji pojasnjeval, ter gledal kako ji solze polzijo po licu, se mi je trgalo srce. Prasec. Ampak ne prasec zato, ker sem jo prevaral, temveč zato, ker se nisem potrudil toliko, da tega ne bi ugotovila.
Samo varanje ni imelo z mojimi čustvi do nje čisto nič. Ljubil sem jo. Kolikor sploh lahko ljubim nekoga. To je bil samo seks. Norenje človeka, ki je predolgo stal na miru.
Nikoli mi ni žal za svoja dejanja. Vendar mi je bilo žal, da sem jo prizadel. Še danes mi je.
Zaključila sva iskreno. Odgovarjal sem brez zadržkov. Odgovarjal človeku, ki si zasluži več kot prazne laži. Več kot tolažbo in tajenje. Zamolčal sem detajle, ki ne bi prinesli ničesar, le ponižali bi jo in poslabšali celotno situacijo. Tako je to noč še spala ob meni v postelji. Kar ne bi, če bi ji povedal, da sem zadnji dve noči spal v tuji. V troje.

Samozavest, pride z resnico.

2008-01-06T04:22:00.000-08:00

Takrat, ko se umakne strah in se soočiš z realnostjo, zavržeš upe in ohraniš morda le želje. Plaši lahko le še smrt, minljivost lastnega telesa, ki se stara v ogledalu, popolnoma neposlušno ukazom uma, prepričanega v to, da lahko živi večno. Če te ne plaši niti smrt, potem po fazi popolne praznine, skoraj utrujajoče v svoji brezčutnosti, nastopi trenutek, ko se dvigneš nad bedo starega sebe in ti zažarijo oči. Ponosen, živ, velik. Sam.
Spomnim se, kako sem nekoč gledal skozi okna hiš, mimo katerih sem hodil ponoči, in poskušal brati ljudem z ustnic, v upanju, da mi bodo povedali svoje zgodbe. Zgodbe, ki bodo šle skupaj z idiličnimi slikami družin v svetlih kuhinjah. Iskal sem podobnosti, zaradi katerih bi se lahko vsaj za trenutek, vsaj dokler me koraki ne odnesejo mimo okna, zlil z njimi.
Tako kot svetloba luči, se je tudi občutek varnosti, ki sem si ga prilagal med svojim pogledom, umaknil temi in mrzlemu vetru ceste, ki me je peljala do naslednje hiše. Do naslednje zgodbe pod rumenimi kuhinjskimi lučmi.
In nekje med potjo, sem ugotovil, da je moja zgodba drugačna. Da sem jaz tisti, ki daje občutek varnosti drugim. Tistim, ki prav tako hodijo med hišami tujcev, ter sanjajo o rdečem pesku in krikih življenja, ki se rojeva v trenutkih smrti.
Da ne spadam pod soj luči, temveč v mrak, sence v katerih sem se vzgajal. Temo, v kateri sem svoboden, prost prilagajanja in laži, potrebnih ljudem, ki ne morejo živeti z resnico.
Našel sem družino med rjuhami postelj, ki so še vedno dišale po nekom drugem. Pomirjujoč dotik ženskih rok, ki sem jih željno pustil božati moje telo, so mi vedno znova dajale vse, kar sem si zaželel. Za trenutek. Kratek moment v katerem sem nabiral moči in spočil utrujeno telo.
Ostala je samota. Ta ne bo nikoli izginila. Ne v objemu ženske, ne v dotiku moje roke z otroškimi lasmi. Nikoli, ker je del mene. Ker je tam vedno bila. Ker tja spada.
Ponosen na to kdo sem. Ponosen na mesto od koder izhajam. Ponosen, da še živim. Ponosen toliko, da se oči umikajo pogledu, ki srepo zre predse, medtem ko zahteva davek, ki mu pripada.
Morda nisem veliko, a to kar je, živi. V mestu, ki ne oprošča šibkosti. Med ljudmi, ki spoštujejo le moč. Med hišami, ki ne odpirajo oken.

"Moral sem",

2008-01-02T17:18:00.000-08:00

je napisal, "čas je bil, in to ni imelo zveze z vami. Jaz sem svojo pot zaključil, vidva jo šele začenjata. In prav je, da jo prehodita sama!"
V pismu, ki ga ni nikoli napisal, mi je še rekel, da naj nikoli ne pozabim kdo sem, in kdo so ljudje, ki morajo ostati center moje pozornosti, ne glede na to, kako daleč od njih bom taval. In ko je na novo leto, pred 24 leti umrl, je bilo to največje darilo, ki mi ga je lahko dal.
Dal mi je možnost, da postanem človek in hodim s pokončno brado, ponosen na vsako sekundo, ki sem jo z muko uspel preživeti. Prisilil me je, da sem se zavedel, koliko zares pomenijo ljudje, ki jih ljubim, in mi pomagal, da sem se naučil najpomembnejše resnice v življenju. Dejstva, da sem vreden toliko, kot si bom sam priboril.
In v pismu, ki sem ga pisal jaz, pa mu ga nisem imel kam poslati, sem mu napisal, da razumem. Da vem. Da sem mu hvaležen in, da poznam težo daru, ki mi ga je dal.
Napisal sem, da so nekateri njegovi prijatelji, danes moji prijatelji. In ne zaradi njega, temveč zaradi mene. Ker v meni vidijo podobno, kot so videli v njem.
Da hodim med ljudmi s prav tako ponosnim, skoraj arogantnim izrazom na obrazu, kot je hodil on. Da sem si to prislužil. Prislužil s tisoč brazgotinami, ki sem jih dobil, ker nikoli nisem odstopil od tistega, v kar sem verjel.
Tisto najpomembnejše, kar sem mu želel napisati, pa je bilo to, da kljub temu, da ga ni, imam družino. Sestro, ki je najboljše kar je prinesel na ta svet in, ki me spomni nanj vsako sekundo mojega življenja, ter prijatelje, ki jih neskončno cenim in mi je v čast, vsakič ko preživljajo čas z mano. Družino, ki ji za novo leto ne rabim pisati, temveč jih lahko poljubim in pogledam v oči.
Nekdo mi je rekel, da se tej družini ne rabim toliko dokazovati, da vedo kako jih cenim. Jaz pa mislim, da ne glede na to, kako zelo bi se trudil, ne bom nikoli mogel pokazati, koliko mi v resnici pomenijo.

Jebeš božič!

2007-12-24T16:06:00.000-08:00

Jebeš vso navlako čustev, ki se nabira, in jo dodatno obremenjuje še ta jebeni božič. Jebeš upe in želje, jebeš misli na lepši jutri. Jebeš idiota, ki se pusti dražiti z lepoto na drugi strani rešetk, katere se nikoli ne bodo odprle.
Vse kar je, je. Nekje med luno, katere del sem, ki je padel na zemljo in ne najde nazaj, ter soncem, ki hrani moj ogenj, jebem vse ostalo.
Jebeš debelega bradatega prasca in njegove pijane jelene...
Jebeš...

Lutke niso ljudje,

2007-12-23T16:04:00.000-08:00

so za trenutek živeča bitja, ki bodo pozabljena, ko se bo predstava končala. Nimajo svoje volje, so le figure, ki jim človek narekuje dejanja, piše usodo in se izživlja nad njimi. Vsa zadovoljna, da lahko služijo svojemu gospodarju, ne opazijo niti ponižanja, ki sledi absolutnemu prilagajanju.
Veliki, ne postanejo veliki pod vplivom drugih. Njihova dejanja so včasih sporna, včasih tako očitno napačna, da je to vidno tudi najbolj površnemu očesu. A takšna so, zato ker so njihova. Ker so rezultat njihovih misli, ki niso pogojena z mnenjem ter željami drugih.
Veliki so prav zato, veliki zaradi svoje neodvisnosti, individualizma ter hrbtenice, ki je sposobna nositi lastne odločitve ter breme, ki jim sledi.
Kritika je dobra, tudi če je slaba. Samo dejstvo, da je bila podana, pove, da se je nekomu zdelo vredno kritizirat. Nesmiselna je le tista, ki ni utemeljena. In če jo je podal človek, ki misli, potem ni letela na osebo, temveč na dejanje... Sploh pa, kdo pravi, da je kritika relevantna. Je samo mnenje, misel, ki se jo da tudi spremeniti. Nič ni črno ali belo.
Ne bom hvalil, če za pohvalo ni razloga. Ne bom poveličeval, če me ni dvignilo. Bom, ko me bo. Morda nekoč, morda nikoli. In ostal bom pri svojem mnenju, zato ker je v resnici takšno. Všečno ali ne.
Včasih so všečne ali pomembne druge stvari. Zanimivi možici, ki so se pripravljeni pogovarjati z ljudmi o fantaziji, kljub temu, da vidijo, da jim ti ljudje v svoji trdni stoji na racionalnih tleh ne morejo slediti... piromani, ki v družbi svoje ljubezni iščejo primerno mesto za požig, pa jim je v izjemni simpatičnosti oproščeno... zlobna bitja, ki v resnici le skrivajo svoj obraz v temi, da se ne bi videla njihova ranljivost, ter grobo grizejo, misleč, da bodo s silo zakrila dejstvo, da so že davno izgubila tla pod nogami... in majhni otroci, ki se trudijo postati odrasli, pa jim potek časa ne dovoli prehitevati, temveč jim pušča srečo doživetij in mladosti...
Samo mrtvi vidijo vse. Prastare duše, ki se v ukradenih telesih mešajo med ljudi v upanju, da bodo končno spet začutile občutek dotika. Oropani brezbrižnosti in prisiljeni v razumevanje zgodbe, ki se odvija pred njimi, morajo z bremenom resnice, kot bleda luč brleti večno...

Kako najdeš

2007-12-22T12:18:00.000-08:00

izhod iz začaranega kroga, v katerega si pahnjen deloma po lastni krivdi, deloma pa s samim bistvom sebe, ki je bilo postavljeno v to življenje kot tako, in ki se suče v konfuznih situacijah katerim se ne moreš izogniti.
Živiš med živimi in mrtvimi duhovi, kateri ne poznajo milosti. Prevzemaš njihovo usodo, ter se boriš za obstanek. V sebi prižigaš gnev, ki ti daje moč in tisti majhen korak prednosti, ki ga potrebuješ. Z vsako zmago, vsako žrtvijo, uničiš tudi del sebe, nadomesti pa ga hlad in mrzel veter spominov.
Star več tisoč let, poln življenj, ki so ugasnila pred davnimi časi, se trudoma nasmihaš, da se obraz ne bi pozabil gubati. Telo stoji ob tebi z rahlo spuščeno brado, vedno v položaju obrambe, medtem, ko ga duša potiska v nevarnost z iskrenostjo, odprtostjo in nepripravljenostjo do klonitve pod pritiskom družbe. Oči, večinoma mrtve, vsake toliko zagorijo v bliskajočem plamenu.
Tvoja želja po nedefinirani strasti, ki bi ti jo nekdo vračal, se ti zdi sebična, saj se zavedaš, da ne moreš pričakovati tolikšnega potrpljenja od osebe, ki jo imaš rad. Ko veš, da tvoja naklonjenost ne odtehta bremena, ki ga nosiš s seboj.
Obsojen na ječo osame, se zvijaš v boleči žalosti vsakič ko se zaveš, da bi najbolj dokazal svojo ljubezen, če bi se nikoli ne pojavil in prečkal poti osebi, h kateri te vleče z vso vročekrvno silo armade bojevnikov, ki bivajo v tebi.

Utrujen

2007-12-20T23:17:00.000-08:00

um, ter za njim capljajoče telo, sem posadil za računalnik, medtem ko v ozadju slišim Destiny's Child-Emotions. Ni ne želje ne potrebe po daljšem postu, misli preveč begajo in se prepirajo z nesmiselnimi željami.
Medtem, ko v odsevu ekrana vidim soj luči spalnice, ter mamljive blazine, vem, da je še nekaj časa ne bom mečkal z glavo. Kot ponavadi, bom mučil samega sebe do tiste točke, kjer bo umik v temo neizbežen.
Zlorabljanje klopi ter uteži, morda celo sprehod s psom pod osvetljavo nočne gospe, ki tako vztrajno nabira kilograme, in me kljub tej vedno bolj baročni teži vsakič tako prevzame. Mislim, da je to moja najstarejša ljubezen, ženska, ki ji bom naklonjen in podvržen večno. Samo moja minljivost naju lahko loči, do takrat pa bodo moje oči skozi spremenjeno barvo pošiljale zaljubljene, skoraj predrzne, izzivajoče poglede lepotici na nebu.
In v trenutku, ko je v ozadju utihnila glasba, poslušam. Iščem tuljeneje, ki bi ga slišal zunaj, ter bi mi sporočilo, da se nekje v bližini klati še kakšen volk, ki v snegu na odprti čistini drži mojo sled...

Topla sapa,

2007-12-19T14:11:00.000-08:00

ki mi je grela vrat, je v umirjenih, kratkih izdihih prihajala skozi njene ustnice, kot bi morje pošiljalo svoje vojake skozi čeri na obali. Tudi po tem, ko je že zaspala, se je še vedno krčevito oprijemala mojega telesa, in skrivala svoj obraz pod mojo brado.
Misli so se spotikale ena čez drugo, ko sem se lovil med veseljem in paničnim strahom. Srečen in hkrati žalosten, nezmožen pobega iz lastne kletke zlih slutenj, ter pričakovanja najslabšega.
Medtem, ko sem z roko raziskoval njene poteze, mrzlično shranjujoč vse v sobe spomina, v katerih se sprehajam danes, mi je bilo vseeno ali se ob tem prebudi. Še vedno sem slišal, kako je šepetala moje ime, in želja po ponovnem koncertu glasov in gibov ni nikoli ugasnila.
Prepletanje udov, igra prstov, ki berejo navodila telesa, ki se voljno zvija pod mano. Zadrževanje samega sebe, da ne bi v želji po absolutnosti, prestopil prag užitka in začel povzročati bolečino, samo da bi izrazil vse kar kričijo podivjani občutki.
Ta želja še danes živi. Nobenih upov, brez pričakovanj. Le zavedanje, da je to edino, kar me dela živega, stran od norosti jeze, realnosti vsakdana in perverznega poigravanja moje usode.
Morda moraš res živeti izven okovja varnosti, in predobro spoznati čistost bolečine, lastne in tiste drugih, da sploh veš, kje je vrednost strasti, četudi bo ta za sabo pustila še večjo praznino.
Rad sovražim, to znam in obvladam. Bes lahko sprožim na ukaz, in telo ubogajoče sledi napotkom nasilnega uma, ki išče maščevanje med množicami tujcev, nesrečen, ker so dejanski cilji tako daleč. In takrat, je v ozadju vedno misel. Misel, da poznam tudi nekaj drugega, kar hrani ogenj v tem peklu, a za sabo ne pušča pepela in opustošenja. Kar vodi mojo roko po obrazu, brez namena, da ga uniči ali iznakazi.

Še vedno besen,

2007-12-18T23:45:00.000-08:00

sem si pravkar odvil trak z dlani, in medtem ko pišem, mi utripajo otečeni členki, deske na steni pa še vedno vibrirajo v tempu mojih udarcev...
In medtem, ko se sproščajo hrbtne mišice, se zdi, kot bi mi mrz polzel po vratu, ter me spominjal...žali me...ne prenesem, da me kdo žali... dolžan si, uredi, ne sili me v reakcijo.
Malo pomirjen ob misli na ponudbo, ki bi mi lahko spremenila življenje. Kolo se je končno začelo vrteti, v temo je začela pronicati svetloba, ki pa se bojim, da bo pokazala tudi praske in brazgotine...
Poln vprašajev, nastalih v situaciji, v kateri se ne znajdem najbolje, predalčkam opcije in si pripravljam obrambo še preden se bo napad začel.
Pogovor...večera...me je razveselil, čeprav sem vedno znova presenečen nad absurdnostjo dejstva, da me lahko spravi v srečo nekaj, čemur večina ne daje posebne pozornosti, medtem ko sem ravnodušen nad stvarmi, za katere se pričakuje, da šokirajo.
Odločen, da se vsaj danes, ne bom več spraševal temveč le užival v trenutku, ki bo verjetno kmalu le še lep spomin.

Ljudje nimajo obrazov,

2007-12-17T17:37:00.000-08:00

imajo le zbirko mask, ki jih menjajo po potrebi, odvisno od strahu, ki ga ravno v tistem trenutku ne morejo obvladati. Polno omaro kostumov, ki jih oblačijo na predstave, v katerih igrajo glavne ali stranske vloge. Prepričani v svojo edinstvenost, ter pravico do življenja, se skrivajo za zastorjem usode in iščejo temen kot, v katerem bodo varni.
Resnico vidiš v očeh, tam kjer se zrcalijo inserti iz preteklosti... in tam iščeš njihove slabosti. Okostnjake, zakopane v grobovih omar, ki ponujajo orožje za poslednji zamah eksekucije. Kajti enkrat izkopani, zahtevajo maščevanje, brez pristanka na ponovno vrnitev v temne kotičke zavesti.
Malo jih je, ki so pripravljeni nositi posledice svojih ravnanj. Malo tistih, ki prenesejo breme iskrenosti, ter lastne podobe v ogledalu resnice.

Ko sem pred kratkim

2007-12-13T11:31:00.000-08:00

spoznal tega človeka, je bil vtis, ki ga je napravil name tako močan, da sem potreboval nekaj dni, da sem si opomogel.
....... je Žid, ki je kot političen begunec pred leti pobegnil iz Čila, nekako našel v Jugoslavijo, se zaljubil v Slovenko in ostal.
Ko sem prvič uzrl drobnega možakarja, srednje visoke rasti, ki mi je ponudil sloko, urejeno roko, sem opazil pogled, ki je s prav takšno radovednostjo zrl vame, kot jaz vanj. Kljub zadržanosti, katero sem se trudil pokazati, da ne bi prestrašil človeka, sva zelo hitro podrla mejo in se zapletla v pogovor.
Vsaka njegova beseda, vsaka izjava, je bila podana skupaj z nasmehom, ki je hkrati delil srčno veselje, a ni mogel skriti globoko zakoreninjene žalosti, ki je verjetno nikoli ne bo mogel odložiti.
Njegova karizma, ki je bila nekaj najbolj dobrega, prijaznega, kar sem kdajkoli videl ali se dotaknil, je bila zame tako boleča, da sem skoraj klecnil.
Skozi misli so mi šle slike, ob katerih sem se zgrozil v občutku gnusa do samega sebe. In zazdelo se mi je, da jih vidi, pa mi vseeno podarja še en nasmeh, poln sočutja in topline.
Iz človeka je sijala nedolžnost, za katero sem mislil, da je samo mit. Njegove oči so skrivale dolgo, žalostno zgodbo, in se tako barvale v mavrici solz, ki so že davno nehale teči. Kot, da bi bolečina bila tako velika, da je uničila vse, in je tako v večni praznini vzklilo nekaj čistega, nepokvarjenega, skoraj svetega.
Človek, ki zna sovražiti, a tega ne počne, ker ne more. Ker ni del njega. Ker je njegovo srce v drobnem telesu tako veliko, da se želja po mržnji ter maščevanju izgubi v labirintu čustev.

Music: Mr. Bojangles

Ne sprašujte

2007-12-12T04:26:00.000-08:00

me, zakaj se najbolj naravno, domače in v svojem svetu, počutim ravno takrat, ko pred mano stoji ali sedi človek, kateremu oči sijejo v ognju agresije, spominu boja ter bolečine. Človek, poln majnih in velikih brazgotin, ki obraz rišejo v tisočerih potezah, tudi kadar so misli odsotne in se čustva ne izdajajo v obrazni mimiki.
Ljudje, katerih življenja so bila v žarometu norosti in, ki ne poznajo rutine ali ustaljenih poti. Individumi, ki hodijo svojo pot, neodvisno od ograj postavljenih zaradi strahu družbe, ter norm, ki branijo tiste, ki si sami ne morejo priboriti mesta v vrsti.
Globoko v srcu, so to posamezniki, ki čutijo na neprimerljivo bolj visoki ravni, kot ljudje, ki se v svoji otopelosti in pomanjkanju življenske sle, skrivajo za stenami moralnega in zapisano pravilnega.
V njihovih očeh vidim naklonjenost, ki mi pomeni še toliko več, ker vem, da je ne dajejo vsakemu. Ker njihova naklonjenost temelji na resnici, nezlaganih dejstvih in zavedanju, da so si enaki... Da smo si enaki. Vsaj po srcu.
Na spoštovanju, ki je bilo prigarano skozi boleče ohranjanje svojega jaza v situacijah, kjer laži ne morejo zakriti resnice.
Najboljše ljudi sem našel v najbolj globokih in umazanih jarkih, ko so ostali mislili, da tam ležijo zato, ker tja spadajo. Jaz pa sem videl, da so tam, ker ne spadajo nikamor drugam, ter se skrivajo v varnosti teme. Skrivajo pred ogabnostjo človeka, ujeti v svoji resnični podobi živali.
Volkodlaki, ki se samo na trenutke spreminjajo v ljudi, ter nesrečni čakajo na vrnitev v kožuh zveri.
Morda zato, ker ne maram sprenevedanja. Ne maram laži in manipuliranja ljudi, ki ljubijo ali pripadajo samo zaradi lastne koristoljubnosti. Ljudi, ki v izogib samoti pristajajo na kompromise, ki so meni nepredstavljivi, ter se pridružujejo krdelu samo za to, ker sami ne bi preživeli.
Sam hodim mimo varnega objema krdela, a se kljub zavedanju, da ne bom preživel, ter samoti, ki mi včasih lomi prsi, raje soočam z realnostjo in bolim, kot da bi klonil in predal svoj prestol neodvisnosti in ponosa.
Zanimiva se mi je vedno zdela misel, da v vsej svoji moralnosti in družbeni prilagodljivosti, možje doma čustveno in fizično zlorabljajo svoje žene in otroke, jaz pa kljub očitni asocialnosti, v skoraj desetletju edine resnično intimne zveze z žensko, nisem niti enkrat pomislil, da bi dvignil glas, kaj šele položil roko na bitje, ki sem ga imel rad.
V areni življenja, bom vedno goreče pobijal nasprotnike, ki bodo vihteli nad mano meč socializacije, ter se srčno ljubil z žensko, ki mi bo povijala rane. Ne glede na posledice, ki se, in se bodo kazale na moji življenjski poti, ter kljub oporekanju materialističnega in matematično logičnega razuma, bo vedno tako.
In do bridkega konca, do trenutka, ko bom prvič našel mir, bom tulil. Tulil, da me slišijo ostali, ter dlake naših kožuhov valovijo v valovih zvoka. Tulil, da bodo vedeli, da je prihodnje življenje naše.

Music: Metallica - Unforgiven

Bela

2007-12-10T13:50:00.000-08:00

barva je bila vedno tista, ki mi je dajala občutek čistosti, morda celo iskrenosti. Tudi perilo bele barve, moje ali ženske, ki jo v tistem trenutku slačim, mi da tisti zadnji dokaz varnosti, ki jo potrebujem... sploh kadar ne vem niti imena nežnega bitja, ki se zvija v mojih rokah.
Kakor se morda zdi nemogoče, lahko najdeš ljubezen tudi v toploti človeka, ki ga sploh ne poznaš. Ženske, ki jo vidiš prvič, in se bo zjutraj ali še prej spremenila v spomin. V tistem trenutku, je lahko vse. Žena, ljubica, prijatelj, meso.... Nikoli nisem imel težav s tem, da je kasneje ne bo več. Z vsakim dotikom, pri katerem čutim, da moje telo pokriva njenega, sem njen. Dokler ne odidem, in se moje telo sprošča po krču.
Dejstvo, da bo zjutraj jedla zajtrk s svojim partnerjem, in mu pošiljala ljubeče poglede, ter nedolžne, kratke dotike, ki bodo nezavedno opravičevali njene krike, povzročene s sunki tujca, me ne prizadane. Predanost v njenem izrazu, ter podrhtavanje telesa, ko so šle njene roke čez moje prsi in trebuh, so v delčku življenja pripadali meni. Sapa, ki se je lomila med zvoki bolečine in užitka, je božala moje lice. Moj vonj je še vedno tisti, ki draži njene nosnice med jutranjo kavo. In občutek dotika je še vedno tam. Tako kot je tudi pri meni. Tega mi nihče ne more vzeti. In s tem sem se pripravljen zadovoljit.
Morda se zdi, da je to le spolnost brez čustev, brez toplote in zaupanja, ampak v resnici ne more biti. Zaupanje, ki ga podariš tujcu, ki rovari skozi tvoje telo, in ki se zgrinja nad tebe v vsej svoji poslikani velikosti, je večje kot v trenutku intime s svojim partnerjem. Tam je to igra ljubezni. Zaupanje je bilo potrebno prej. Ko ga še nisi poznal.
Vem kako je, ljubiti tudi s srcem. Kako je obležati ob telesu, ki se ti tudi po izlivu ne upre. Brez potrebe po tem, da bi vstal in se poslovil. Ko te ne motijo dotiki, ki niso več nujno potrebni. Ko se ti ne jebe po tem ko ti je prišlo. Doživel sem to. Morda bom še kdaj. Do takrat pa bom taval po hišah ljudi, ki me pozdravljajo na ulici, medtem ko hodijo mimo mene, držeč se za roke s svojimi ženami.
In jaz jih bom diskretno pozdravljal nazaj, v mislih pa bom imel belo barvo, ter preblisk zagorele kože, kar pa bodo v mojih očeh opazile le one.

Music: Wet Wet Wet - Goodnight Girl

Občutek krivde,

2007-12-08T16:50:00.000-08:00

ki me preveva, kadar se zgodi situacija, kot je bila današnja, je tako močan in boleč, da se mi zdi, kot da mi bo prsni koš potegnilo vase, ter bo v črni luknji za njim posrkalo še vesolje...
"Grem domov", sem mu rekel, "jutri moram zgodaj v Maribor, in ne bi rad spet spal samo eno uro."
Lokal je bil pol prazen, sami mladiči, ki so se fotografirali in se poljubljali kot na Gang Bangu... Nisem videl razloga za skrb...
Poleg tega je bil zakajen, in ves nasmejan...
"Greš z mano, ali boš ostal tu?" Odgovor sem poznal, vedno greva zadnja...
Ko sem odšel, sem ju še pogledal, " Kosilo jutri?"...
"Ja, ob 15.00. Kitajska... ali če gremo v Afriško... Čez prekop bo najbližja!" je rekel P.
Nasmejan sem se spravil v avto...

Ko sem danes slišal njegove besede po telefonu, mi je začela trzat glava na ramenih, kot bi mi podivjali živci... "roko imam zgleda zlomljeno... začeli so... najprej je P.... potem sem pa jaz, ko je prvi zamahnil..."
Komaj sem skrival podrhtavanje telesa, ko sem stopil nazaj v prostor... se opravičil, in se pobral proti domu....
"Zakaj sem ga pustil samega, nikoli ga ne pustim, pa ravno včeraj... Mater da mu jebem, nikoli noče domov... Pobijem jih ko jih najdem... Ne pustim, da se ju kdo dotika... ", tisoč misli, medtem, ko sem klicaril... "pa P..... a je P. ok?... Zakaj ima gsm, če se ne javi, mater mu..."
Zmeden v dilemi ali sem bolj jezen nanj, ali na tiste tri... Malo pomirjen, ko se mi je smejal v telefon, ves nabit z adrenalinom in občutkom moči...

Vedno je bil ta občutek, da sem tu za njih. Za ljudi, ki so tisto lepo... Moja pripravljenost dati vse, sebe, je bilo edino, kar sem lahko pokazal... dal...
Kje je meja, med prijateljstvom in družino. Med skrbjo in predanostjo. Med občutkom, da imaš rad, ter občutkom, da bi imel rad tudi če te bi zavrgli...
Nekdo mi je rekel, da čutim zato, ker je izjema v mojem življenju... ker je lahko kraljevati na prestolu, če nimaš konkurence...
pa bi, če bi znal, povedal, da kljub temu, da verjamem v to, da ne moreš imeti rad nekoga, ki nima rad tebe, vseeno kljubujem logiki... ljubim, zaradi tistega človeka.... in ne zaradi sebe...
Torej... le lahko čutiš božanje, tudi če so te vedno le klofutali... vidiš, za vse je izjema...
Pravzaprav... morda pa res veš, da ljubiš, iskreno in nesebično, takrat, ko ljubezni ne prejemaš... ko iz izkušenj poznaš le bolečino... pa v tebi vseeno gori...

Music: Led Zeppelin - wholle lotta love

Odprl...

2007-12-05T10:42:00.000-08:00

sem vrata, ko nisem slišal več krikov, le še tope zvoke mesa, ki udarja ob meso... to je bil trenutek, ko sem se zavedel, da nikoli ne bom znal biti tak, kot sem si želel. Da iz hodnika med dvema osebnostima, ni vrat v samo eno stran... kjer bi lahko bil le... eno.
S koleni jo je držal na mestu, jo pritiskal v steno, medtem ko jo je nabijal, kot, da bi bila predmet... v slast pa mu ni bila penetracija, temveč udrihanje... z obema rokama, jo je izmenično, v umirjenem taktu, počasi spreminjal v drugega človeka. Že nekaj minut ni bila več pri zavesti, čeprav tudi če bi bila, ne bi več mogla odpreti otečenih oči...
Po dveh korakih sem mu z nogo zabil glavo v steno pred njim s tolikšnjo silo, da se je nemudoma zgrudil na njo... kot bi ravno ejakuliral, in bi se kot debel prasec sedaj stisnil k njej... in iskal miren počitek v objemu plačane ljubezni...
Medtem ko sem ga vlekel z nje, sem med nekontroliranim besom pazil, da se ne bi dotaknil njegovega mednožja, ki je kot trofeja opletalo... premikal sem ga, ne z vleko, temveč z udarci... v obupni želji po tem, da ga dokončam... v slasti besa.
Tudi če bi razumel Ukrajinsko, ne bi razumel njegovega momljanja, ki je hreščalo iz njegovega grla, pomešano z izlivi mešanice krvi in zob... brez obraza, in s prebitim pljučnim krilom, sem ga pustil gnit na cesti... vedel sem, da ne bo dolgo, ko bom na isti cesti ležal tudi jaz, le, da ne bom več dihal....
Medtem ko sem panično pobiral svoje stvari, sem bil skoraj razočaran... nisem dovolj prasec... izmenjavali sta se misli... zakaj ga nisi ubil... ter, zakaj ti ni vseeno, saj je samo kurba...

Še vedno nisem našel vrat, in tako se še vedno sprehajava oba. Po hodniku, kjer se po stenah vrstijo inserti, ki spominjajo na dejstvo, da nikoli ne bom pripadal. Kjer resnica bode v oči in mi govori zgodbo o človeku, ki ne zna ne hoditi, ne plaziti se po tleh.
Tolažim se z dejstvom, da hodniku še ni videti konca, ter bodrim z mislijo, da bo morda nekdo podrl zid, in me povabil k sebi. Mi povedal, da bi moral od nekdaj biti tam.

Music: Natasha Bedingfield - we're all mad

Še ena

2007-12-04T07:25:00.000-08:00

noč, v kateri sem spal nekaj minut... se vlačil po sobi, s čikom v roki, vodil samopogovore ter zlorabljal klop za uteži, vse dokler ni bolelo celotno telo...
občasni trenutki spanca, dremeža bi bilo pravilneje, so mi sicer prinesli dovolj počitka, da bo truplo stalo in funkcioniralo čez dan... čakaj, kako sem prebral zvečer, " Vampirji se začnemo zabavat okrog polnoči"... volkodlaki pa bedimo v besu... sovražim občutek nemoči
in potem, pleše pojava, nič kaj estetska v svoji velikosti, testosteronski poraščenosti posameznih, dolgih, črnih dlak, gola skozi prostore svojega brloga, trudeč se tudi z glasom slediti pesmi...
Ampak spet se vse šele začenja... ko se tema umika dnevu in svetloba sili v krvave oči

Music: Johnny Cash - Personal Jesus 50e27dab3c7bbc352c8373502e2768e0

Včeraj,

2007-12-02T17:30:00.000-08:00

se je smejala, ko sem rekel, da je to spet pokvarjena šala usode, s katero me moja karma pretepa kot poceni kurbo... kar sem ji hotel reči je bilo še vse drugo...
Poln Martinija, a bolj pijan od dogodkov zadnjih dveh dni, sem se po dolgem času ob glasu človeka, ki mi je pripovedoval, tako sprostil, da sem zaspal... brez sanj, brez slabe vesti... ko sem se zbudil štiri ure pozneje, je bilo, kot da sem še vedno v prejšnjem trenutku...kaj se je zgodilo mi je povedal šele stavek na messengerju
Kje naj začnem... morda na sredini, nekje na sestanku z ljudmi, ki predstavljajo mojo karto za naslednjo postajo življenja... kjer pa se je moja pozornost ves čas valila nekam drugam... med vinograde... in sem na vprašanja ljudi pred sabo odgovarjal z nasmehom
Ali pa nekje malo pozneje, ko sem pred očmi cele množice poravnal račun s človekom, ki naj bi bil moj prijatelj... kjer se je v meni lomilo vse v kar verjamem... in kjer sem si z vsakim zamahom želel, da bi bile vloge zamenjane... in bi bila moja bolečina tista, ki bi bila telesna...
Še malo pozneje... ko sem lebdel v zraku, vpet v padalo... in med pogledom na dolino pod sabo, ter zadnjimi sončnimi žarki razmišljal le o eni stvari... in se obračal proti vetru, upajoč, da me bo odneslo še malo višje... tako visoko, da bom videl čez hribovje pred sabo, v smeri kamor me vlečejo misli
Ali pa morda le tam, predvčerajšnjem, ko so se moje majhne Benetke zatresle na količkih, in me je takoj doseglo spoznanje, da bo to poplava, ki je mesto ne bo zdržalo...
V trenutku, ko sem se obrnil v levo, in slišal tisti stavek v glavi, ki sem ga enkrat že slišal... in mi je bilo skoraj žal, da nisem sposoben zbežat... še preden bo vse postalo res... še preden se je občutek združil z vonjem, ki je vdiral v moje nosnice, medtem, ko se je moj obraz dotikal njenega
Skoraj neverjeten občutek je, ko obupano iščeš laž...kakršnokoli laž, ki bi jo očrnila...
Laži nisem našel... resnici se je pridružila le še ena resnica... te sem se zavedel takoj, ko sem se odpeljal... bežeč, ko je bilo že prepozno
Pred leti, sem na boleč način spoznal, zakaj kaznjenci nikoli ne gledajo skozi okna celic... ko sem namreč pogledal ven, v svet kjer ni masivnih belih vrat s težkim okovjem, ter smradu po bedi in strahu, me je preplavil občutek bolečine... tja ne sežem... in veselje se je spremenilo v žalost

Zdaj, ko kadim cigaret, zleknjen na tleh, z glavo naslonjeno na kazenski zakonik Slovenije, razpet med osladnostjo svojih misli in bolečino, ki spremlja mlečno kislino v mojih nogah... se spomnim, kako mi je nekoč rekla, da je v Angleščini lažje pisat... ne vem, meni je pravzaprav vseeno... pišem le tisto, kar se je zgodilo

Music: Metallica - Until it sleeps

So

2007-12-01T09:59:00.000-08:00

here's my last decision... the blog remains open.
But!
I have a few words to say...and rules to set.
I decided to do so, because despite the fact, that the blogosfhere is not the best thing for my future... and the fact, that there are more than enough idiots reading this.... I will not start backing off... my life and what I do, is who I am... and I will not hide from people, that dont even deserve my attention... screw you
But I will never talk about my family again... and I will erase all older posts, that I find not suitable...

Bye for now

2007-11-29T12:10:00.000-08:00

Ok, this will be my last post...for now...since I still have not decided, if I will delete the blog, or make it private...invites and all that shit...
So, whatever I shall do, this will be the last, that everyone is able to read... the shop closes on sunday

You know, I'm real confused lately... even more than usually... I seemed to have developed a human touch... and that sucks
I hate having feelings...other than hate...I can handle hate...the rest, aaaaaaa, the rest is a question to me
let me try to explain
there are certain rules, one should go by, in order to avoid problems...here's some of them

never listen to the person, you intend to beat up, shoot, or hurt in any way...this way, he remains a stranger...and you dont give a fuck
never go on a drink with a woman, you intend to screw only once...she might get the wrong idea
never talk to a woman, that you feel you could fall in love with...that is even more true, if she is in a relationship...and even more, if you doubt the chance of her falling in love with you
never do buisness with friends...there is a chance your friend might turn in to your enemy
never cheat on your woman with her girlfriends...no matter how they beg...sooner or later they will turn on you
never ask for fawors...you will owe them one

I could go on and on...but, it's useless, since the fact that I know them, doesnt prevent me from not keeping them...and so Im confused...you can guess for yourselfs, which one of them I didnt go by

bye for now

Let me...

2007-11-25T17:43:00.000-08:00

try to tell you, what has been on my mind for a while now...
This will be one of my last posts. I'll be closing my blog soon.
Why?
It's not easy to explain... I started this blog, as a personal therapy... and as you could see for yourself, I am in need of one... many think I should be institutionalized anyway...
I never figured, someone would actualy read what I have to say... since even I cant belive how fucked up my mind is sometimes...
but, it has come to the point, where quite a lot of people visit this little mental institution...
and I feel... so does my sister, that has found my blog... I did not want to tell her about it...
that I have exposed myself too much
I know a lot of people wont understand this, but I dont have a normal life as it is... and if I should want to make things... my life, a bit easyer... than exposure, is not the way to do it
now, I cant write about things, I have never felt... or did in my life.. I dont even want to... I see too many bloggers, especially Slovenian, that write about bullshit... just to write something... just to get clicks... to sell the blog... believing they are somekind of internet stars
but, to write about my personal life... has become just too risky...
so, the blog closes
Perhaps... just perhaps... a new one will open... without pictures... names... perhaps
I have met a lot of great people here... even... well, even started to feel for someone... but... I was never good at keeping my hopes up... and I learned a long time ago, that its better to back off... before you are put aside
This is not a goodbye... but not much else eather...

Music: J. Hendrix - Castles made of sand

Strength

2007-11-23T11:17:00.000-08:00

As he walked down stairs, he had this feeling... a premonition... of what was to follow...
He has been in too many of these situations, not to know that it will explode... it always does... but somehow, he couldnt help himself...
There were three men inside, one standing at the bar, and two behind a high table, drinking whiskey.... it's amazing how details are obvious in situations like these... without seeing them, you are bound to loose.
As he came down, the men looked at him... they knew who he is... they knew what he came for.
It's a special feeling you get, when you see someone, that you know has come for you... you know there is little chance of solving things before they escalate...
The man at the bar stepped back, backing up in to the corner, while the other two stayed still... waiting...
He said nothing at first, still checking out the situation... no matter who you are, two or three at once are a hand full.
There was no backing out now... they would take it as fear... and that would have severe consequences.
He stepped towards the two men... all he said was:" What's up!"
This was the last chance of a calm solution... but one of them looked at him, hands on the table, prepared to jump... "What do you want!?"
The tone was wrong... no way out... the game was on.
From now on, he stopped thinking... everything must be instictive... it's him... or them.
He streched out his left hand, grabbing the man that spoke behind his head, and pulled towards himself... he slammed his head in the table... he could feel bones braking... a feeling of solid turning in to liquid...
In the next moment, the other one jumped towards him, striking with his fist...
he moved a bit to the left, avoiding the punch, and at the same time hitting the first one with his left hand again, just as he lifted his head of the table... he could see blood for a second...
than he moved forward, grabbing the second one just as he lost his balance missing with the punch... and he throu him over the table... seeing him bounce of the wall...

Than he stood ground. Waiting... almost proud of himself for keeping himself under control... not finishing them off...
they looked at eachother... still silent... it was over...
althou he knew... this will go further, as they started pulling out theire cell phones...
he laughed... seeing the first one trying to hold the phone... with a broken hand... blood runing over the numbers...
he left... tomorrow is another day

La Tristesse Durera Toujours

2007-11-22T17:18:00.000-08:00

You can try as hard as you like, plan every day to the detail, wish for things to go your way,....but...it's all in the moments
we wake up, or perhaps even start a new day, without realy ending yesterday, not knowing...
the world is changing...the old becoming obsolete...
what use to be certain...no longer is...what you were sure of....is now a lie
even when you look at yourself...you find a stranger...that's lost in the city of your mind
cruising throu impressions of the days behind you....realizing you're confused....not realy certain about anything anymore
wondering...
when did all this happen...

That's why...I dont hope...about you....it would just condemn it...and make me...hurt

Music: Alanis - Mercy

My nose ....

2007-11-16T13:00:00.000-08:00

is bleeding. It has been, for 2 days now. Could it be the nerves? Or is it the .....? Who cares...it'll stop eventualy.
I'm back. Oh yeah, I haven't told you, I was in Bosnia...the Serbian part of it...one hour away from Beograd(belgrade). This was my first time in the Serbian part....I was not too welcome there before...but the situation has settled down a bit.
It has been 5 years since my last visite to Bosnia....full of memorys...feelings...althou I have not seen my friends...or places...from the past
Kažu, ništa se ne mjenja u Bosni...samo se groblja večaju....istina

Snow

2007-11-12T12:21:00.000-08:00

I see snow on the mountain near by...white...taking me back...and I remember...

A couple years ago, it was December...christmas spirit...
the house we lived in was on a hill...both, the house and hill were mine, I got them from my father...
it was a white winter... snow covered the landscape
and behind the house, there was a great open space, about 100 000 m2 of my land, in that moment still untouched...it seemed as if the snow would run like water...
I left the bed, while she was still sleeping...got dressed, and walked out...
I walked up and down in the snow...for hours...drawing a big picture with my footprints
when I was finished... all wet and cold... there was...
from miles away, you could see...and so could the sky....
a great

A + L

she cried...and I was happy
where did the snow go

music: starry starry night

picture perfect

2007-11-11T22:02:00.000-08:00

As I have to get myself out of this bottomless pit I'm in, I'll try to draw something with my words....something beautiful....way to beautiful for my words to describe right
I was looking at her all night yesterday...she was with D. ...a friend of his
I saw her a couple times before...I know only the basics about her...
I know where she's from...what her name is...who her boyfriend is...the basics
J......
But...
She is the one of the most beautiful woman, I have ever seen in my life...
Long, dark brown hair... big, bright eyes....skin that looks like it's silk...a face, sculptured,...like drawn to appear perfect...
her mouth...when I first saw her, I wished to god, that when she will open the most beautiful lips I have ever seen, that atleast her teeth will be, well, not perfect...but than I saw a straight line of white....Jesus.
about 175 cm tall, with high heels she goes allmost over 180...hahahaha, fuck, long long legs, and...well, her ass....
slim hands...breasts...
as I stood near them, watching what is going on in the bar, at some point D. left, and she turned to me...we spoke...and when I was talking in her ear...our faces allmost touching...she smelled like...perfect
D. returned, and I stepped back....I could feel her look on me from time to time, while they were talking...and it was warm...kind...allthou I could see in her eyes, she doesnt trust me...and everytime our eyes met, she would instantly look away...
A girl, I won't allow myself to see again... her beauty is allmost painfull...but she is...picture perfect

Beautiful,

2007-11-11T10:36:00.000-08:00

isnt it....

Short message

2007-11-11T04:39:00.000-08:00

After a long night...standing outside a bar in the cold...and after another disappointment from the people I care about...
ending the night inside, just a couple of us....somehow connected... but none the less, I felt so fucking alone....lonely
we talked about the past...and about the future
P. said to me, to wait...that things will get better...that I'm getting there
but I know....I have to leave...go...find that something....
if I remove the failiers, there is nothing left
and than...while I was driving home...a short message
nice timeing....like you would know

Fish has something to say: "I am a nothing. A bad boy, that will never become someone. I have spent my life running. Out of a battle, in to the next one. I belive in nothing and no one. I have no god. I have no home. I live as a shadow. I'm the dark corner in the street...the face with no eyes.
AND I WILL NEVER BE ANYTHING ELSE

It's my car officer

2007-11-10T10:39:00.000-08:00

Try to imagine this situation...I swear it's true...happened yesterday....
Friday evening, about 9 PM. The town centre, people walking on the sidewalks, all the bars and the bar terraces full....
D., U., X. and I, decide to step away from a bar terrace, so we can smoke a joint...
As we smoke, in one moment, the picture looks like this:
U. is just smoking the joint, D. is standing beside him, waiting for his turn, X. is peeing on a street light, and I'm jumping on the roof of a car.....in that same moment, the cops drive by....a police car and 4 idiots inside....
The people that were walking by, stand still, to see what will happen, while the cops stare at me, as I am still jumping on the roof of a car.
It's a tense moment, but they dont leave the vehicle...I stop, jump on the hood and than on the ground...
Just as U. takes a big smoke, I say:" It's my car officer, move along now."
"Is it?", the cop driving asks.
"It's my car, move along!"
You could see the people around waiting....will this escalate?!....we're waiting too....long seconds...
The cops drive away...leaving us with our joint and laughing out loud...suckers

Some things will never change

2007-11-09T13:10:00.000-08:00

As I walked up, to where we all drink our morning coffee, F. looked at me and said: "Uuuuuuiii, motherfucker! Are you collecting money again?!"
I'm collecting more...I want my life back!

Music - Changes

Back on the track, Jack

2007-11-08T17:35:00.000-08:00

Just decided...after almost 6 month...I'm shaving my head clean again...Fish will look like himself again...and act like it

How do you tell.....

2007-11-07T13:06:00.000-08:00

Im realy fucked up...and I need a little fun...so I'll ask a question, I know answers will make me smile

Ladys, here we go( not that men cant comment):
When you look at him, can you guess how BIG(you know what I mean) he is? How do you tell? By what? And how often are you right?

I'll enjoy this...

7. 11. .......

2007-11-07T11:11:00.000-08:00

For 8 years, this was a day, that was very important to me....I realy made an effort each time... as much as I know how to.... it still feels strange, not being a part of it anymore

incompatible

2007-11-06T17:14:00.000-08:00

I thought things would get clearer. I thougt, I would find the way. With time. But no.
I allways knew, I would never lead a normal life. I cant. I am just too .....crazy. A wolf among people. Not able to live inside a normal society.
Even the ones that love me, as much as they can, look at me with that look in their eyes. A look, that says, they dont know, if they can trust me. Knowing, I can't be controled. Fearing the moment, when I would run wild.
I'm sorry. I simply cant change. I cant change my essence. It is who I am.
There was only one thing in my life, that was able to hold me down. Now, there is nothing. Nothing but myself, trying to be compatible. For those, that I love.
But I'm getting lost in this status Quo, becoming sad and depressed, as I dont know anymore, what I'm doing here. And there is a fire burning inside. A fire, that must not get out.

Music: Pantera-Shedding skin

Dont mind me,

2007-11-03T16:24:00.000-07:00

I'm just thinking

Hahahaha

2007-11-02T16:33:00.000-07:00

I just heard, there is a man looking for me. He's called Specialac(specialist). Suposed to have spent 8 years in the special forces. Atleast he claims to.
I dont think the fuck knows what he just caused himself. Im easy to find, if I want to be.
How was it, " be carefull what you wish for, you just might get it all"!

No time to stop

2007-10-29T23:20:00.000-07:00

Ever seen Trainspoting?.....that's what my life is like these days......in four days, I've been home to shower.....take the dog out....and somethimes even grab something to eat...
I live and breath the streets...I fell asleep on a bar terrace two days ago(my friends watched over me)....
I guess, it was allways ment to be this way....you do, what you are good at....and I am good at surviving...would I be Spartakus, if I were born more than 2000 years ago....would I rule the Arena...
I leave for Hungary, Budapest in four hours.....I have to be back in 24

Secret

2007-10-26T04:19:00.000-07:00

Something.....I wouldnt say....Im drunk as hell.....I hate my life.....

Dance....let me...

2007-10-26T01:27:00.000-07:00

Dance with me, in your dreams....while you sleep....and I walk the night....looking for you

Police raid

2007-10-25T12:45:00.000-07:00

This morning:
5 AM
Phone rings. Its D. " The cops. What do I do?"
Fish:"Stay quiet. Wait. I'll come get you."

7.30 AM
The cops left. They needed a warrant to brake in.
I wait till they leave, than pick up D.

7.45 AM
We call the police station, and tell them we're coming.

9.00 AM
We enter the police station.(we stoped for coffee on the way there hahahahaha)
2 cops come runing. I calm them down. "No need for panic. If we wanted trouble, you'd have it by now!"
They show us a warrant. Search of personal facilities. Possesion of weapons and illegal drugs.
Just as we are leaving the station, to be taken to D.'s place, the door opens, and "the godfather" enters. He has his wife with him.
D. says"hahahaha, have you come for a coup of coffee too?!"......................... Crazy fucker

All went well. I'm home, and D. is having a beer.

The moment

2007-10-24T12:00:00.000-07:00

Today. I walk throu a shoping mall, passing a bar. A waitress is taking empty glasses of a table. She is young, 21, 22 years old. Blond, beautifull.
I instantly decide, step up and hug her. She stands stiff at first, but I can feel her body becoming more and more relaxed. And than I feel her hands around me, she lets her self go.
We stand there, the moment lasting forever. She hides her face under my chin, and I know she is about to cry. I can hear her smelling me, taking my scent in her.
I kiss her on her cheek, and let go of her. I feel her body shivering.
I turn around and start walking away.
I never said a word. All I could hear was, her saying:" Wait....what is your name?...."
I never looked back.....I wanted to say:" You dont want to know!"

D. kills me

2007-10-23T17:13:00.000-07:00

The Fantom bar. This morning. The terrace. D., P., F. and I, are sitting at a table. Drinking coffee. Talking like every morning.
D. is saying: " So I take the bitch to my place. We dont talk much, I mean, it's not like she came for coffee. We wouldnt go to my place, if we didnt both know what follows.
We undress. She first. A great body, nice face. Than me. As I take off my boxers, she looks at me, and says,"Jesus, is that all yours?!"."

YEAH RIGHT

D., I told you before. This isn't Amsterdam anymore. Stop screwing women, that cant speak your language. What she meant to say was:" Jesus, is that all?!"

Rain

2007-10-22T15:21:00.000-07:00

Dancing Capoeira in the rain today. Rain drops hunting my body, as I was trying to fly . I could feel my muscles turning numb, the cold was making me slow. But I had to try. I had to hear the sound of air, as my legs were drawing circles and I was becomeing weightless.
Have you ever danced infront of mother nature, its tears falling on your half naked body, as she crys with you? That must be what home feels like ...................................

Find yourself

2007-10-21T21:01:00.000-07:00

Here is a photo of me, I found on a blog today. It was probably taken by a cell phone. I never even noticed.

Music: (still) Jeremy

Birds of a feather stick together

2007-10-21T09:53:00.000-07:00

As I was standing in a bar last night, holding a drink and smoking my ......, I was watching the group of people around me. My friends. We were talking quietly, to avoid other people hearing our conversation. A habit one develops if he lives like we do. We get loud only if we are joking.
And as I was listening, used to everyone staring at me, my eyes touched theirs, staying on each one just so long as thay could stand it. And I saw what I allways see. We belong together. Because we are similar. Because we have a past, we can not deny. Because no one else would stand us.
I have a problem with authority. I am too dominant, to be able to stand the feeling of subordination. I live as I please.
My friends are the same.
We all work for ourselves, whatever each of us does for a living. We could never work for somebody else. We take risks, most people would never take, to be able to live like this. And it can get hard. But it's the only way. Our way, or no way.
It came to me, how the hell did we find eachother in the first place? Was it faith? Or did we just recognize eachother by instinct.

D. allways says, "The day will come, when I'll write a book. A book about the unbelievable shit, that I saw in my life. And it will sell bitch! A bestseller for sure!"
D., do use initials. And you do understand, we want in on the profit!

Music : Pearl Jam-Jeremy

Payback time

2007-10-19T02:22:00.000-07:00

Im pissed. If you owe me money, and you're late, better hide. I hate it, when people take me this far. The vain on my forehead, shaped as Y, is pumping crazy. Not good.

Jesus Slaves said it well today: "I'll end the problem, facing nothin, fuck you off, fuck you all!"

Music - It's not over

Are you sure

2007-10-17T18:16:00.000-07:00

Did you ever look in somebodys eyes, and see from time to time, that there is a black hole inside? Did you ever wake up, because the person beside you is crying in his sleep? How much can you handle? How much are you willing to handle for someone you love?
Good allways has a bad side. A shadow. People want everything, but they are usually not ready to give something back.
Interesting, in the real world, nobody will step up, and say they like me. In the real world, I open the door to my house everyday, and there is nothing but silence inside. In the real world, everybody turns their head, when I walk by, but no one will touch me.
Im 28. In my life, I have gone from homeless, to quite rich. From a boy to a man by myself. But something tells me, I will walk my path alone.
I often wake up at night, afraid that I am still in the past. But there is no one there. No one to touch, just to make sure I am awake.

I dont sell myself! At all!

2007-10-16T13:37:00.000-07:00

Reading some of your blogs, got me thinking.
You see, I live by myself. I was in a relationship, that ended more than a year ago. Now, I'm single. Looking? Not realy. I mean, that isnt the only thing on my mind, if you get what Im saying.
I know, I'm far from being a perfect man. The kind, a woman wants to live with. I'm dominant, agressive(I DONT hit women), excentric, very openminded :), and a bit like an neandertal. But at least, Im honest, I stand to what I say, and I love with heart and soul.
Now, believe me, it's easyer to live with a man, that is domestic, gentle, with soft eyes and a warm hug, when you come home. Not me. I will hug you, but not just because you came home. I have to see, you want me to hug you. I will look at you with such love in my eyes, that your spine will start bending, but there will be fire in my eyes. I will pick up my clothes, but when I feel like it. And ussually the same time I picked up yours, after I ripped them of you and draged you on the kitchen floor.
You want a man, that will ask for your opinion. Ok. But I'll ask you, when I feel I need it. Just like I dont expect you to ask my permission on everything you want to do.

I mean, what do you women want? DO YOU WANT A MAN? Or do you want a fucking metrosexual?
Do you want a dog, or someone, you can allways run to. Someone that will be there when it matters, and not every other time. Someone, that will say what he means, and know what he's talking about. Someone, that wont just say, what you want to hear.
A nice guy, or someone, that will tell you, you are wrong, when you really are.

I want a women, that will make my day, just by looking at me. Someone, I can respect, talk to, make love to, .... But I also want her, to be a woman from time to time. Watch her step up to me, her eyes closed, waiting for my kiss, shaking when she feels my hand on her spine.

I will never be with someone, just so I'm not alone. Can you take me for who I am? Can you handle me? Can you handle the fact, that Im too wild to handle? Do you know what you want?

Dravograd

2007-10-15T07:31:00.000-07:00

I see you were here. Twice. Anything to say?

Bushido

2007-10-14T05:46:00.000-07:00

Another day. Another fight. Another battle. My way.

How would you like to meet me at night?

2007-10-13T18:04:00.000-07:00

"My intuition tells me there will be fun for a killerfish tonight." And his eyes light up. "Is there anyone that would like to try himself out?"

Morning everybody

2007-10-13T13:52:00.000-07:00

I'm nostalgic. Lets see if this song(left side- Play me)(for those, with no understanding of Bosnian- Lime trees are blossoming; that would be the title in English; just listen to the instruments, and his voice) and a coffee with a friend can change that. I have a long day and night ahead of me.

Vodka time

2007-10-12T17:28:00.000-07:00

Just read something, that has made my heart crawl back inside the rock, where it use to dwell. There is a song you can play on the left side of the blog(the bottom choice is the original). It's playing inside my head right now. I'm getting wasted.

Catch me if you can

2007-10-10T16:25:00.000-07:00

Just got home. I'll write more later. Right now, I'm burning with energy, and I'm going for a run. Let's see just how fast my muscles can move hehehe.

Upside down heart

2007-10-07T09:21:00.000-07:00

I spent yesterday, with a group of people, that is something extraordinary.
We got together, to celebrate a birthday. But mostly just to see eachother. We rented a house in the hills, where we can be undisturbed.
Now, what makes us unique, is that allthou we go a long way back but live in very different worlds today, we still hug eachother when we come together. We still feel for eachother.
You see, we are all in a way very good at what we do, but our proffesions differ very much. I wont go in to each and every one of us, but its a sortiment that goes from politicians to drug dealers. That dont matter when we're together thou. The past, and the affection for eachother goes beyond the present.
Each time we do this, I feel like I'm home. Like I'm in my living room, with my family. We cook, we eat, drink, talk, laugh like little children, and we hug. It's so special, it allmost makes me cry.
And when we part, I feel so empty. So sad.
We promise, silentlly, to each other, friendship. But we leave. We go back to reality. And a small part of me, goes with them each time.
This is for my friends. Till we meet again.

A free man

2007-10-05T10:29:00.000-07:00

Just the way I like it. I'm able to do anything I please till monday. I'll probably take on another job than. But it's a long time till monday, and if I should get lost, well, I guess that will mean the job will just have to wait.
Now, what to do?
I'll start with a morning run, 10 Km. Nothing like a run. Ok, morning sex takes the cake, but we might have a slight problem there. Not at all easy having sex on your own. If you are a man that is.
Than I'll go shoping. What good does money do you, if you dont spend it. I think I'll buy me some shoes today. And boots. I need army boots too.

Than Ill go look at some bikes. Just to make the decision for next year. And to torture myself. I know you cant understand it, but let me help you. It's like being inlove with somebody, somebody that you see and even touch every day, but cant have him or her. You can only imagine. Only fantasise.

And than. Than Fish is getting drunk. Ohhhh yeahhhh. I'm getting wasted. I will have a vodka or ten of them, and than go on drinking beer. Drive around. There is a good side to being me too. You can get wasted, and everyone leaves you alone. They dont even look at you. Well, not directly anyway. And I have fun provoking them. I enjoy the looks on the faces of those shocked and retarded motherfuckers. The sky is the limit. No place is safe tonight, cause the beast is out.
If you hear a roar in the dark later, at midnight, close the doors. I'm outside.
You can buy me a drink thou. All you have to do is step up hahahahahahahahahaha

In the words of my friend, Paddy Boy, "Slaves shall serve, slaves shall serve, slaves shall fuckin serve!!!!!!"

Burned out

2007-10-01T19:42:00.000-07:00

I'm dead tired, I hurt all over. My muscles tremble, my blood runs throu me like wild.
Where is someone to give me a massage, and than squeeze close to me, taking me to dream land.

Oh yeah, I sold my bike. Somebody shoot me, a knife wont do it, it has been tryed before.

A short one for Jim

2007-09-29T14:39:00.000-07:00

Your turn Jim. Hahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Hottttttttttt

2007-09-28T13:00:00.000-07:00

Tell me, does anyone else get turned on by danger? I do.
Gets my blood flowing, my veins swell, heart starts pumping faster. I smell like pure testosterone! Almost something erotic seems to fill the air.
Adrenaline makes my engine run.

Come, join the joy ride. I feel alive! Do you?

When it was still summer

2007-09-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

Found these photos today. It was a good day, in the middle of June. Even I get a hug somethimes.
Now, around this time, many were allready wasted, hahahaha.

Threats

2007-09-26T18:38:00.000-07:00

I am being threatened by Jimbo. His words exactly were:"I will get u FISH
i will be back"
Now I am not used to people threatening me, Its usually the other way around. So this is new to me.
How to react?
Should I hide?
Will Jim roll up a joint, and blow smoke from India, where he is located, probably to be able to abuse women and smoke pot all day long!?
Well Jim, do your best, but dont dislocate any part of your body, you hear. Take care now.

Aaauuuuuuuuu

2007-09-26T15:30:00.001-07:00

It's full moon. A special time for me. The moon affects me very much, especially when full. It kind of brings out the primal in me. Even more than I usually am.

The beast inside comes out.

The surface hiding the truth.

2007-09-26T15:30:00.000-07:00

Miles are getting longer it seems,

2007-09-25T14:00:00.001-07:00

the closer I get.......

Elkas

2007-09-25T11:56:00.000-07:00

I said I will do this, a couple days ago, and I will try.
I'll start with a man, that I think about a lot lately. He enters my dreams often, in a way reminding me of the past. Making it impossible to forget.
I have not seen him in years, and dont realy know where he could be. Last I heard, he was in Ukrain, working as a bodyguard for some rich ass. I doubt that he is still alive.

Elkas was born in Bosnia, I think in 1970. Just a normal boy from a normal Bosnian family, living a restricted life in the SFRJ. All I know about him before the war, is that he in some point of his life, came to Slovenia, to work.
By this time, he has grown in to a 6'5(198cm), and a 110 kg heavy man. Quite handsome, as far as I can comment that, without being accused of anything.
I think his life was just fine, till the war started.
He left Slovenia in 1993, to join the war in his home land. Half of his family was slaughtered by than, but he only found out about it when he arrived( he found pieces of his sisters in the corn field).
He joined the 5. Korpus, a brigade located around Bužim, near the Croatian/Bosnian border. He was quickly transfered to a small unit, a platoon lead by the man, later called " the Bosnian Arcan", but I'll write about him some other time. This was a platoon, put together for the soul purpose of killing anything alive they should find.
For those of you, who do not know what exactly was going on in Bosnia at that time, I will provide some info. The Bosnians, were defending themselfs from the Serbs on one side, and the Croatians on the other. And at some point even the Bosnians split in to two partys, fighting with eachother. The fights were bloody, and there was a policy of not taking prisoners. Once brothers were now mortal enemys.
Now, what made Elkas great, and this affected me strongly, was what happened one autumn day in 1995.
The platoon was fighting enemy units, somewhere between Bužim and Kladuša. The fights were going on for days, leaving the survivors tired to the point of death.
Elkas was in the first line of fire, and was forced to enter a bunker, where another man from the platoon was allready located, shooting fiercely at the enemy. Each of them occupied a different opening, and they continued to fire.
At that point, the enemy units located the bunker, opening fire at them, using mortars. Before thay could escape the trap, a missile flew in throu the opening, and passed Elkas about 30 cm(1 foot) away from him, hitting the back of the bunker.
Now, a rocket flying, creates enormous heat. And flying so close to Elkas, it burned out half of his abdominum, at the same time preventing bleeding, as the burning sealed the wound. It was like 1/10 of his body was instantly missing.
As the missile hit the bunker, it blew the other mans legs of. He was lain there, no legs, bleeding to death.
Elkas, missing a large part of his body, grabed the man, and carried him almost half a mile back, to where he could get help. As he made it, Elkas fell in to coma, to be awaken almost one year later.
The only reason Elkas survived was, his father bringing enough money to the doctor, so he didnt just cover him with a sheet(as it was custom during this war).

What Elkas did, left a mark on many. Made me think about who we are, and what we can do. He played his part well.
What we do today, echoes in eternity. He will live forever.

Was bound to happen

2007-09-24T22:14:00.000-07:00

Fish had a smaller accident with his motorcycle today. Dont worry, the bike's fine.
Oh yeah, he's ok too.

Happy birthday Jurka

2007-09-24T14:52:00.000-07:00

It's my sisters birthday. She turns XX today.
I wish you everything sis. I wish you the world. And I love you, more than I have ever told you.

Has to be done

2007-09-23T11:08:00.000-07:00

I decided, I will post storys of people I knew, that were realy special. People from the war, people I knew here, people that have affected my life with their greatness. Some dead, some disappeared for other reasons.
Maybe I'll start today.

Changes

2007-09-23T10:43:00.000-07:00

Listening to Chris Doughtry, i sit here, and think about what is going on. Its morning, and the sun is rising. I'm confused, not realy used to things like this. I am good at hating people, I had a lot of practise, but not realy big on likeing somebody. Do I know how? So I'm not stone cold after all.
Sold my motorcycle today. The buyer was just here, gave me a down payment, and will pick the bike up sometime next week. Sold it for 7000$.
I'll buy another next year. If I dont move before that.

Its my sisters birthday on monday. What should I get her, when nothing is realy good enough for her in my eyes?! Any ideas?

Is there a place where feeling good dont cost a thing?

fishizem Nr. XXX

2007-09-22T13:45:00.000-07:00

I thougt of this one today, talking to some guy, I have just met.

The boss is not the man runing the company, it's the man screwing the secretary.
Fishizem

Call me stupid

2007-09-22T13:30:00.000-07:00

Let me first say, I have started this day in such a good mood, as not since a long long looooooong time. If it was raining outside, the sun would be shineing inside of me. I was waked up by an amazing creature, causeing me to forget the time.
Than, things got even better, my sister came to visit, and that happens only a couple times a year.
Sometimes, life is just great, dont you think.
Well, leave it to Aljaž, to ruin everything.
After my sis left, I went to the store on my motorcycle. And of course, I wouldnt have been myself, if I wouldnt have gone chaseing after my sister. No helmet on, short sleeves, jeans, etc.
I caught up with her after a few Km, but wouldnt you know it, exactlly at that moment, the cops came by. Since I didnt want to talk to them, I speeded up( did I ever tell you, I tend to drive a bit too fast), and passed my sisters car at about 200-250 km/h, beetween two cars, which caused a little panic on the road, and scared my sis.
Now, she doesnt want to talk to me, because I am a prick, as she delicatelly put in a short message she sent me on my cell phone.

So, if I ever stop posting, I was either involved in a crash, and was scraped of the road with a showell, or I was stabbed in a street fight, quarreling over something, not even worth mentioning.
Dont be mad at me, I am an ass, and will be born as a cockroach in my next life. I have to go and hit myself on the head now.

Freak show in my head

2007-09-21T12:13:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered, what people actually think of, when talking to you? Do they give a shit? Do they mean it, when they say something?
I analize everything. Comes in handy somethimes, but is killing me on the otherhand. I learned to be like this, years ago. I had to, otherwise I would have been eaten alive by the society and the world I lived in.
Jp, it must be nice, if you can turn off your brain, send your intuition on a break, and if anything, wonder if your dick is big enough, and whether the waitress has noticed how big your byceps look.

I'm a freak. It's like the Red hot chilli peppers would be having a concert in my head. I never blush, but tend to embarace others all the time. If you see a naked guy on a downhill bike, full of tatoos and a strange smile on his face, rideing of a mountain like the devil is behind him, say hello. I'll say hello back.

Same shit as allways

2007-09-20T22:08:00.000-07:00

I had a small fight with a friend of mine today. As much as I hate fighting with my friends, I belive he deserved it. But in the end efect, I feel dissapointed again. We were playing hockey on rollerblades, and I left in the midlle of the match, because otherwise I would have hit him.
Shit, shit, shit, shit. I belong in Sibiria or a rainforest somewhere, far away from the civilisation.

I had a discussion yesterday, with Reg .
We talked about idealism, and I was shocked and most of all impressed. He is a bigger man than I am. I lost faith in people a long time ago. It died with some friends of mine. I hope there are more of your kind Reg. And I hope, I will someday meet you. Take a holliday do, we will talk and drink till we drop.
But still, I fight, I try to be a better person I once was. And than I get dissapointed with the people I live and even feel close to.

And than, I locate the ASSHOLE OF THE YEAR on Keshi's blog. I would love to spend 15 minutes in a closed room with him.
Jim
This is what Jim had to say about a women, that is getting beat up by her husband(he wrote these lines as comments on the theme):
- domestic violence is a khandani matter, you should not interfere
-shit, why did you have to spoil my birthday with this heavy post(we are sorry Jim, that we spoke about this on your birthday, we will never talk about this again. And the woman getting beat up, will go and sit silently in the corner; you sick bastard, you fuckhead, I would love to get my hands on you and that husband. I would show you a new meaning of pain, you shitforbrainsIhopeyousuffer)
And my favorate: Jim saw an older man being hit on by this man's son. The older man later died of HUNGER and starvation. Jim said:" I chose to let things stand. I could not help in the long run."

What can I say. Burn in hell Jim. And if we should ever meet, you will wish, you were in hell allready.
I make a promise here and today. I will never say no to anyone, if he will ask for my help.

I'm sad.

Retagged

2007-09-20T10:47:00.000-07:00

My californian princess Dyna, has retagged me, and to honnor her, I will do it. This is for you Dyna. I am to use my nick FISH.

F- Fight. I was born a fighter and have been fighting all my life. I have fought with my fists(and I am very, very good at it), with weapons(I am a sniper, was the best shooter in my batalion), and with my mind, usually for others, and somethimes for myself. And I will keep fighting, hopefully not by myself.

I- Intellect. I have a mind, and IQ, that has got me in and out of trouble, times and times again.

S- Sun. I love sunshine. I love heat. I am aries, born under Mars, god of fire and war. I burn on the inside, and I live my life just like it. I love and hate so strong, the sun can't create so much heat. Hahaha, I am Mars.

H- High. Flying high with my parachute, driveing at high speeds with my motorcycle, raceing where others dont dare, climbing high with my safety off, hiiiiiigh

Tagged

2007-09-19T11:23:00.000-07:00

I've been tagged by Karen.

And since she is realy bossy, I'll do as she says.

players- you must list one fact, word or tidbit that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your first or middle name.

when you are tagged you can write your own blog-post containing your name facts etc.

at the end of your blog-post you can choose the amount of people that your name has to tag (i.e.- 6 letters, 6 people to tag). don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they have been tagged and to read your blog.

Whell than, let's try this. My first name is Aljaž, so:

A- Afrika. I have dreams of Africa, for as long as I can remember. I dream of kissing the sand and knowing I'm home. Allmost as if it was calling me.

L- Liberty. I am a free man, that has seen to many wars and prisons from the inside, and therefor charish my freedom and the freedom of my country.

J- Jurka, my sister. My better side. The one good thing that god gave me, and did not take away. I love my sister.

A- Adrenalin. I have done everything possible in my life, to feel more alive. I still search for that kick, but it seems harder and harder to find. I will probably die trying, if I don't find something so dear to me, that it can make me stop.

Z- Zion. A term that most often designates the Land of Izrael, where my ancestors come from. I am an ateist, but still remember where my blood originates.

So, thats it. I hope I did ok, but that is for you to decide.

I tagg:
Dyna
Tamala
Keshi
Miss s
Reg

Totally optional of course!
DO IT!!

Oh and, I have chozen you out of pure affection. And to annoy Reg.

Days of thunder

2007-09-18T12:53:00.000-07:00

No realy, its raining outside, one storm after the other today.
So, Fish faces a dilema!
What to do with myself?

I could clean around the house, whipe of some dust, that has been there since my last cleaning action, right before the last time I had sex in this house. And its been a while.
Neeee, I'll wait till the next time a women will be foolish enough to enter my lair, and clean up right before that hapens, sort of forced to do it.
Kidding, its not that bad, the dust I mean. I pay a women to come around and clean 3 times a week. The sex part is true, I get laid far to rarely.

Actually, come to think about it, it has been something more than a year since the-former-Mrs-Fish and I parted, and since than I have been in bed with four women, none of them vaguely good enough to keep arround for a longer period of time.
Im sorry ladies, if any of you should be reading this, I am a pig and the only thing I have to say is oink oink. You simply did not pass the could-she-be-the-mother-of-my-children test.
No realy, fact is, I am a man, and that means I am able to hop in to bed with someone, without having any feelings for her. Hell, I can even hate the woman, but I will still have sex with her, if 2 things are ok- her apperance and offcourse, if she is willing to have me.
For anything more, there has to be that something, that magic in the air. Sadly, I tend to avoid having sex with women, who could have a greater affect on me, out of safety reasones. Not to mention, that there are not many of the kind arround.
Perhaps I should go profesional, combine work with pleasure. Hm, I wonder how that would turn out!

Any prepositions from my two readers? Ha? Say what?

I'm not accusing, I'm just saying

2007-09-17T13:45:00.000-07:00

An interesting thought came to mind. Could I have found the guilty party?

Where did Reg Pither spend his holiday this year?

And did he attempt to have a barbecue there?

If guilty, he might have to take the Rate my life quiz again!

Fact

2007-09-17T08:31:00.000-07:00

It has to hurt, so you can appreciate it!
Fishizem

?

2007-09-17T00:20:00.000-07:00

Do I ride to get my adrenalin level up, or am I realy looking for a way to end this story without having to violently take matters in my own hands?
Do I want to die?
Am I able to start enjoying my life? How am I to do that?
Can I put the past behind me? How do I do that?

smack my bitch up

2007-09-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

I spent yesterday evening in the local pub, watching a game on TV. Thank god, atleast the game was good, Russia vs. Litva, because otherwise, I would have hang myself from a bridge with a sign on me:" Leave hanging till stiff for sure".
You see, I am getting tired of spending these Saturday evenings by myself or in the company of my drinking pals , discoussing things with the imaginary creatures, that live in my head. Its not that I wouldnt like them, I just seem to know exactly what they will say, and that makes the conversation as interesting as watching Brad Pitt adopt another poor child, to get some publicity other than a new haircut.
Its been so, for a year now. Since Lidija left.( for those of you, who might have got lost and found their way to my blog, Lidija is my ex-girlfriend, that I've lived with the past 8 years, till she saved herself and took a run for it). At first, it was just the parting and the loss of a loved one, that was geting me down, but then I started geting lost in the past, going throu my life all over and over again. Now I dont seem to know how to stop.

I was never realy normal, I mean, people were never realy fond of spending time with me. They were either afraid of me, or just irritated by my presence. Damn, even the dogs liked me only because I was hiperactive. I was dissliked by my teachers as a child, for allways having a different opinion(whitch was absolutely a NO NO in the Socialistic federative republic of Yugoslavia). I remember bringing a book in school when I was 6, with the Title "A Naci and a hairdresser", by Edgar Hilson, and the school called the Police. Sadlly I was not shot. Coulde save me a lot of trouble. And the children were not my fans either.
So I was taged as a threat to my enviroment, by the time I was 12(you see, I realy did hate the sistem here), and not many parents were eager to have theire children playing with me.
My parents, unfortunatelly were either dead or in my mothers case "brain dead" and apsent, so there was not much help coming from there either.
Forget the fact, that I have seen more dead people till the age of 18, than most people see on TV. It realy couldnt make much more damage in my head anyhow.
You get used to it, being alone most of the time, and when you get old enough, you find out that people suck and have nothing to say anyway.
But, I made the mistake of falling in love and had the bad luck of her falling in love with me. I still dont know how I was ever able to respect someone, who is dumn enough to fall in love with me. And so, I found out, that there is another way of doing it(living that is), and that it is a shit load more fun than how I was doing it before.
Well, in time I fucked up, as expected( I bet my left testical (dont seem to need it) that her father said " I told you so"), and was left without anything but what I had on me, because she took everything else. The freak I am, I even helped her load the truck, and paid for the ride( someone smack me, please).
Thank god, we had no children. She'd had made me crawl for them.

Now, I'm over her, but I just cant get used to the thougth, that I might just as well take my dog in the house, because there is a bigger chance of Reginald Pither getting a barbecue started without burning down half of Grantham, than me finding another women that will even consider spending time with me. Not if she's normal that is.
I even considered going to an AA meating, just to find some companie. I don have an alcohol problem, but if there are interresting people near by, I am most likely to find them among the AA. Where else.

Sleep well

2007-09-15T08:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, another local motorcycleist died on our roads. Raceing as a way of life. Makes me wonder, when am I due to go? RIP

Quote

2007-09-14T11:36:00.000-07:00

"Like computer viruses, successful mind viruses will tend to be hard for their victims to detect. If you are the victim of one, the chances are that you won't know it, and may even vigorously deny it."
Richard Dawkins

I use an antivirus program, called UMBC, or Using My Brain Cells. I dont deny constant attacs and brakeins, but the program has so far helped me to keep my mind working correctly, defragmented and in use 24/7.
I update it every day, stuffing in as much usefull info I can find, but try to avoid certain newspapers and tv shows, out of fear of being influenced by people working for the people creating mind viruses.

I avoid curches, first of all, because I could just bump in to a priest, and than by chance have to listen to his holly stupidity, and secondly, because of fear of holly water, after seing what efect it can have on the evil in Blade I-III.

But my main test is, I go and watch Jerry Springer from time to time. And as long, as I still find it stupid, obcene, repulsive and annoying, I gues I'm fine.

Tomorrow

2007-09-14T00:14:00.000-07:00

Its Dynas birthday tomorrow, on saturday, 15. 9.
Since she will be away, drinking silly, i will congratulate her today.
Happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you Dyna,
happy birthday to you.
I think she will just turn 25.
(I apollogize for the annoing voice singing)

Made my day

2007-09-13T13:27:00.000-07:00

I came home, mentally and fizikly tired, from the exam, and the ride there and back( drove like a true maniac; Valentino Rossi couldt be faster), took a shower and made myself something to eat.
Just before I would have gone out, to take my dog on his evening walk, I just checked some blogs, while I was eating.
What I found, shocked me so much, I honestly did not know how to react, or what to say.
Thank you Dyna.
I took this picture this morning. Since I cant give you a flower in person, I can atleast give you this one. It is just as unique as you are.

Exams, or stomack acid production

2007-09-12T20:09:00.000-07:00

Passed one exam last week, and I have one tomorrow at 15.00 PM.
I'm nervus, tired and kind of pissed at myself, for not haveing studyed as hard as I should have. Every excuse was good enough to get me away from books. Even now, I'm siting here, stareing at my computer instead of working my ass off.
Disapointing. I really am a man. I have an attention span of a dead horse( exept when my hormones call). Jp, a man. No doubt about it.
So, wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

Meet Mars, my little god of war

2007-09-11T11:33:00.000-07:00

They say, that pets and masters look alike. Hehe, well atleast he is cute, but so was I , when I was 5 month old.

My my my

2007-09-11T09:06:00.000-07:00

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	6.2
Mind:	6.7
Body:	9.4
Spirit:	5
Friends/Family:	2.9
Love:	1.5
Finance:	6.4
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

Now tell me, does dis look like Im a happy camper.

Drunk, just enough to .....

2007-09-08T01:34:00.000-07:00

I had a couple of drinks this evening, watching basketball on tv with my friends. It wasnt the game that was troubleing me thou, it was what's going on in my mind these last days. The fact that Im a bitt lost, confuzed and dont know what next.
And than, than we started a topic, I dont even know how we got to start talking about this, absolute love.
Uf.
Now this is a topic, that you can talk about with the boys, only when they had a couple of drinks. And sadly, all you will find out is, that everybody starts talking about what they expect to get from others, instead of wether they are capable of loveing somebody absolutely.
That means, that it is realy all about the EGO with the boys, and ussualy about a prince on his white horse with the girls.
So now, I am trying to look at myself, and answer the question, the way i see it.
Absolute love. A love that goes beyond that, what you were shown by the society and hollywood movies. To love someone so strong, that nothing he or she( she in my case) can do, to make you stop loveing them.
Is that possible?
I like to think so, but the bigger question is, am I capable of loveing someone that strong?
I belive I am.
I really do.
Are you?
You see, I spent 8 years with a person, I was willing to die for, beliveing she loves me just as strong. It was the only time in my life, I had the filling, that I can really trust someone. That there is someone beside me, that I can rest my head her shoulder. Someone, who I can feel safe with. And safety is something I never had.
And in the end, I faced the truth.
The truth is, I still wish I will find love, safety, a home someday.
Utopia.

Huston, this is sad motherfucker and over

Janko the Barbarian

2007-09-07T19:40:00.000-07:00

Now, here's something that makes me smile. Look at this face. You would look just like him, after a few days on holliday, a couple bottles of Vodka and almost no sleep at all(this is Janko, on a beach, on the Croatian coast).

To survive the boring day, I was going throu some of my photos. Not the best quality, but some were shot by cell phone, so...

Two relevant words these days

2007-09-07T11:29:00.000-07:00

Fuck off

This wether is killing me. Its been raining for days now, and since my car is damaged, and I somehow dont realy like to ride my motorcycle on wet roads, I'm chained to my house. Grrrrrrrr
I go out to walk my, in two days five month old, german shepard, by the name Mars, and that's about it. I dont even go out for a beer.
I sit at home, listen to music, read, eat, shit and do push ups(not necesseraly in this order). Someone shoot me. Please, Im bored.

2007-09-06T03:05:00.000-07:00

Someone who knows how to love you, without being told. Speak out, you are not easy to find

2007-09-05T23:04:00.000-07:00

I spent my day at a friends house, helping him build. There were a couple of our mutual friends, helping too.
I'm a few years older than he is, but he allready has two children. A beautiful wife. A home.
Its not like his life is easy, or easier than mine, but it's warmer without a doubt.

Yesterday I was passing my village school, walking my dog, and I found myself staring throu the class windows at the children, wishing one of them would be mine. It hurt.

And its amazing, since I'we known this couple for ages, how they work out theire differences( and they have a lot of differeces), like nothing would ever bother them. I mean, Lidija and I were a thousand times more compatible, and had almost never had serious problems; it was like we were born to find each other; but still, I managed to fuck up.
He somehow doesnt. Maybe its the fact that he, compared to me, is an angel. He seems to never feel the need to break loose, run wild. Run free.
Dont missunderstand me, I never had the feeling, of being locked up, or not haveing enough personal space, but still, And I repeat, I fucked up.

Aljaž seems to fuck up everytime. How is that for a fishizem.

So, now Im alone. And the thought crosses my mind, "what if that was my only chance?".