Ptitchitza u niskom letu

nedjelja, 27.01.2008.

The times, they are a-changing

The time is approaching to abandon this blog all-together. I am getting fed up with it, with what and how much it has meant to me.

My thoughts and memories about my personal Hermina will continue appearing (pretty much) only here. She saved me, and makes me forever (trying to be) a better person.

I have learned from Harry Haller, the real Steppenwolf.
- 23:20 - Komentari (8) - Isprintaj - #

Not bleeding, just happy.

Not only have I worked today for six hours, but upon my brief evening visit to Thirsty Garry (not the real name, but I'll give you a real hint: it's close to Dizzy Jazz Club), I found out from someone that Maria has been there earlier today! This makes me happy.

You probably won't believe me for all the emotions I have about Maria, but I'm really very easy when it comes to her: I just want her to be happy. Her happiness is the closest path to my own. Only she knows why is she so seemingly uncomfortable when seeing me, like she was on Xmas.

This is the first time she came to Thirsty Garry's after we broke up, other than Xmas, that I know of.

Thirsty Garry's the ultimate proof the Maria is not selfish or cruel. Like I keep telling you, everybody loves Maria, but TG is her home turf. Having worked there for six years and thus becoming a permanent "presence" there, I am sure that she could have simply told the owners that she doesn't feel comfortable coming there if she knew I was there and they would have banned me. I would, if I was on their place, even if I haven't given them any reason to ban me.

She never did, and I am eternally grateful for having some real, physical proof that we still somehow share our lives, the proof that exists not only as a memory of the events long gone.

I have, after Xmas, cut down on my visits there, precisely because Maria made me feel so accepted (and protected!) there that I allowed myself to act how I felt even when I get too emotional. I've become more discriminative of how ofen & where I choose to let go. After all, I worked hard to establish my reputations in parts of this tough city to which I gravitate toward to allow a few easy tears to spoil it!
- 21:47 - Komentari (1) - Isprintaj - #

Vjezbanje normalnog zivota

Radim ovih dana kao volonter na fimskom festivalu u Rotterdamu. Za razliku od prijasnjih godina kada sam kao posjetitelj uzimao slobodno s posla, pazljivo proucio program i odabrao si desetine filmova za pogledati, ove godine nisam nista takvoga ucinio, jer se plasim svakog "nerazumnog perioda srece": u ovakvim okolnostima oni bi mi se ucinili kao eskapizam, i posljedicno povratak u praznilo svakidasnjice bio bi tim tezi. No, cini mi dobro da sam okruzen s "normalnim ljudima", koje povodi neka strast, a k tome je zaista vrlo ugodno druziti se s Nizozemcima, pogotovo kad ne postoje silnice prouzrokovane novcem.

Prekid ikakvog kontakta s Mariom ostaje moja otvorena ziva rana. Danas je tome osobito posvjedocilo kada sam na plakatu za spanjolski film "En la ciudad de Sylvia" (U Silvijinom gradu?) ugledao djevojku koja joj lici, s izgubljenim i ranjivim pogledom i rukom otvorenom u pozdrav. U Mariji sam jednako brzo prepoznao veliku cvrstinu i snagu, te su mi takvi podsjednici na razdoblje kada sam tek sreo, kada je zaista bila izgubljena, na srecu da postoji netko kome trebam, kome mogu pomoci... ma sta da vam pricam. Da znate moju Mariju, tesko da bi se medju vama nasao netko tko ne bi SVE ucinio za nju, kazem vam. Trebalo mi je proci pored tog plakata nekoliko puta dok to nisam uspio uciniti ne susprezuci suze.

Sasvim je moguce da je priroda njenog nestanka iz mog zivota potreba da se zastiti od tudje nesrece (koliko god da je moja bila umanjena njenim drustvom). Pretpostavljam da je prirodno da idealiziramo nekoga volimo: ja nisam nikada imao prilike upoznati pravu prirodu i dubinu njenih nesreca, tim vise sto ona cesto nije u stanju o njima otvoreno govoriti. Zato se ja s time ne mogu pomiriti: znajuci koliko bih ucinio za nju boli me spoznaja da bi se od mene morala stititi. Istovremeno sam jos uvijek vrlo razapet izmedju potrebe da se, oslabljen, izoliram od vanjskog svijeta, i potrebe da se ponovno otvorim (novim) ljudima. Na nekoj manje svjesnoj razini pretpostavljam da me to vrijedja jos vise. Kao krajnjem introvertu prirodno mi je da u drustvo odlazim kada sam u sebi nasao poticaj za trajniju srecu i potrebu da je podijelim s drugima. Nitko mi ne moze pomoci dok si ne sam ne pomognem.

Dok smo bili zajedno jedine "zivotne energije" u meni su bile ljubav prema Mariji i bijes uzrokovan svim nepravdama i izdajama kojima sam prosle godine bio izlozen. Oslobodjen toga bijesa, a bez Marije i bez strukture koje bi normalna svakodnevica donijela cesto osjecam posvemasnje praznilo.

Ipak, mali se pomaci uocavaju. Sve sam cesce OK u vlastitom drustvu (sve dok postoje ljudi oko mene), bez obzira na svoju zatvorenost. U novome gradu, u stranoj drzavi i jos stranijem mentalitetu teze je naci vlastiti balans.

Dok to ne postignem, ostaje ovo ekskluzivno mjesto na koje se Calimero Ptitchitza moze skloniti.

- 17:00 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Nedjeljne zore

Volim se nedjeljom probuditi prije zore i setati gradom. Proci preko mosta i zamisliti da prelazim preko zivotnog, plavog Jadrana a ne zagadjenog i opasnog Maasa, nastaviti prema zapadu grada, dati si alibi da barem u jednom segmentu budem stari ja i budem sretan, sam. Naci neki tihi lokalni "bruin-cafe", piti kavu u miru, slusati radio i ne razumjeti sto se prica oko mene.

Nadjem se cesto u Delftskoj luci. Tu negdje u blizini, upravo sada jedna usnula kraljevna ceka svojeg kraljevica da je poljupcem probudi. Zamislim si da sam medju prijateljima s kojima se razumijem bez rijeci, nastavim dalje, zastanem ispred kuca za koje pomislim da bi u njima Maria bila sretna, zamislim si da bi je moja ceznja probudila i ucinila da upravo nju ugledam iza neke razmaknute zavjese.

Kad se grad probudi, vratim se kuci i mirno zaspem. U snovima je rijetko nalazim, valjda upravo stoga sto mi je inace stalno u mislima.
- 16:52 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

subota, 26.01.2008.

Helpless, helpless, helpless, helpless...

I left eight voicemails to Maria today. There must have been hundreds of them since October, since she's no longer a part of my life. She must have changed the SIM card or put it on divert, because I never hear back from her.

It's like writing letters to G_d.

What else do I have? Almost every place I know in Rotterdam, I've been there with her.

Perhaps I should empty my apartment of absolutely everything, except the few proofs of her existance: the blue dolphin and the flower she cut out of wood and painted, her belt missing a half of eagle's wings on the buckle, her toothbrush, the prints of her palms on the wall, the beer coasters she would write or draw something explaining something to me or loosing herself in fantasy of the beautiful inner child she has... and then in the absolutely voidness, the emptiness of it, perhaps then I'd push the crack in my "glass of life" to extreme and rid myself of her or rid myself, full stop.

I would sometimes watch her sleep beside me, the beautiful angel so at peace with herself, lying right next to me, the beautiful apparition breathing in and out, the inspiration for life.

G_d helps you if you help yourself, but I'm still helpless. She gives me no release. "I want to make you hate me", she said once, but I can't. I just hate myself, for not finding the magic she needed.

Writing letters to G_d.
- 16:23 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

utorak, 22.01.2008.

Tracy Chapman

What a tough woman.
She's the new(er) Joan Armtrading.

She's beyond tears.
But she sings.
- 22:59 - Komentari (1) - Isprintaj - #

I give you

Sodomy, Maria.
You give me
Death.

POR FAVOR.
- 22:54 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

And when I told her

She offered me her most precious, possesion.
"Depeche Mode".

I said 'no'.

What goes around, comes around, I guess.
I deserve it all.
- 22:52 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Otpad

Od pad
Afval.

Uitrit.
Ausfahrt.

Autobahn, snelwegen.
Stau, File.

Great future, greater past.
Decasia.
Ikasia.
Delta.
Capelle.
Jankomir, Vrapce, Vinogradska.

All & co, hol.
Love's a drug & I'm addicted.
- 22:45 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Dark future, darker past

"In this great future, you cannnot forget your past,
No woman, no cry."
- 22:44 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Why

am I so cruel
without even being aware of it.

Fukitol, 1,000,000 miligrams.
I want to be a good looking corpse.
- 22:38 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Audition

I want you to
sever

my life
with a piano cord.
- 22:37 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Personal Jesus

Personal Maria.
Very personal.

Very. Muchas guapas.
- 22:35 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Fukitol

100,000 miligrams.

That's what I need.
- 22:34 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Josipa, dear

I want to apologise to certain Josipa.
I didn't love you. And I told you so.
But I like you, very much.

I am sorry I was so cruel, I didn't mean to be.
- 22:32 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Somebody.

Somebody.

Please.
- 22:26 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

She wsa BEAUTIFUL

sHE doens'nt exissssttttttttttttt.
- 22:25 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Heaven knows there's (no) hope

Babushka. Zivka. Maria.
So Many Marias.

Nada. Nada is Everything.
De nada, mi amor.

I'd do it all over again for you.
- 22:23 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Where is Zivka?

The retired colonel of Bulgarian Intelligence Agency.
She could do it for me.

She could finish me.
And i'd love Her to.
- 22:16 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

I can whistle again

With my split lip.
With my labia maiora.

Fuckitall.
I just need her.
Kate.
- 22:09 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Oh, I am so worried about my love

I am so worried about you, my love.
- 22:07 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Play it again, Sam

"The Man with a child in his eyes".

The most beautiful song ever. I love Kate Bush.
I love Natash for playing it.

I love. The String arrangements are so....... beautiful. Everything is.
Maria's not here.
Where is she.
Nowhere.

She does not exist, any more.
She a figment of my imagination.
- 22:03 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

I like Anouk

She's wacko and has big tits.

"Yeah. Few sandwiches short of a picknick", said Natash.
- 21:46 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

I LOVE IT

I LOVE
EVERYTHING YOU SAID OR DONE
TO ME.

i can take more.
por favor, mir amo.
- 21:39 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Dark Side

It's the other side,
the Moon would have me believe tonight.
- 21:32 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

I don't know

anything anymore.

G_d = Love.
Everything is Everything,
but Nothing IS
Nothing.
- 21:21 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Waht is worng?

It izh.
It's the abberation.
Deviation, perversion.
The horror... the horror of it all.

We are all,
unique experiments of the Nature.

But not all experiments
end successfully.
- 21:19 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

de Maas

is not so deep, but it's dark and polluted
and cold.

It calls to me, it beckons, it invites, it flirts.

But I don't know it, it's not the Adriatic.
I'll wait for summer.
- 21:16 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Dark and Deep

"The Woods Are Dark And Deep,
but I've got Promises to keep,
and miles to go
before I sleep."

Remember, Yevgenij,
Miles to go before YOU sleep.
- 21:14 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

i'd like to open a business with Maria

at the island of...

"Sinisa & daughters."

I'd take on her family name, though.
- 21:12 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

One and one

Equals...
2?

1 + 1 = 3, 11, 333, 666, 999

1 & 1 = 3.1459595959595959595959595959595959595959595959...
From Her To Eternity.

0 x 0 = nothing at all.
Nada.
- 21:02 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

The end, mi amor

She could help mi, she said.
My apartment is my life and she hates it, she said.
The horror...

I said 'no'.

That was it, I think I understand now.

Please help mi, mi amor.
I've got nothing left to live for.

You're not a Saint.
You're a G_dess.

But I've never been religious
and it's too late to start now.
- 20:58 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

An aspiring alcoholic

If Natash didn't have
Another bottle in the fridge

I'd have nothng to live for.
- 20:57 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Somebody to love

Somebody
please put me outta my misery.

Kill me, sauve.
Kill me softly, with love.

Like you care... gently.
- 20:53 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Us

... and...

"We're just two lost souls
swimming in the fish bowl
year after year
What have we found
Same old fears.
Wish you were here."

... damn.
- 20:51 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Nada, de

What I find increasingly beautiful
is that "nada" in my language
is exactly
NOTHING
in Spanish.
- 20:48 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

ponedjeljak, 21.01.2008.

Dundo Maroje

here.
I think I'm done here today.

Tonday.
Tomorrow I give you all innocent bystanders a free day, a vacation from me.

Im gonna have a semfich for breakfast.
And then gonna go my way.

In few days, if I feel you're up for it,
I'm gonna post what I really wrote today
and the day when I was fuming over those commetaries
a week ago. Ages ago.

Apes age, ages ago. Time flies like fruit flies.
Oko za oko, pasta za zube.

Snaga klade valja, a Dundo Maroje. Kako ono Samech veli?
E da: Um caruje, a Dundo Maroje.
- 19:44 - Komentari (1) - Isprintaj - #

An alcoholic

Senka said it right, some twelve years ago.
She said she's afraid I'm gonna turn into an alcoholic.

Well... she also described one of the most beautiful love stories caught on film ever, the Secretary as a story about... guess what... "two compatible psychopathologies".

Fuck taht.

But, i want to be "normal". And normal people don't use drugs. I never did, except hash and some weed.

I'm focusing on alcohol. People understand alcoholics much better, they're much more understandable fools.

I want to be a well-understood fool.
Raymond Carver was.
Bukowski was.
So many other turned out to be.
Well understood.

Well, i'm nowhere near Carver or Bukowski.
But gimme some time, and see?
Maybe there some drunken potential in me.
Now when I'm Maria free.

Ya all can see how Free Of Maria am I.
Is that enough, I ax myself. Noway near.

But gimme time, I'll accrue some more misery.
Now that I'm married to Maria.
- 19:26 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Now what do I do

Do i go out and get drunk more,
get even more sad and miserable,
even more obnoxious, more nuisance?

Or do I go home, and watch Apocalypse Now again?
I can recite it by heart, by now.
And the documentary about making of...
"The Hearts of Darkness -- A Filmmaker's Apocalypse",

a story about the deepest creative crisis
of Francis Ford Coppola.

I can recite that one, too.

I hate my apartment.
I hate my life.
I see you, my love. I see you, Maria.
I know what you've meant.
- 19:22 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Titties 'n beer

That's all I'm good for now.

Like my hero, Frank Zappa, I'm at my best when I sleep over the daytime, when my fellow human beings do all the shit they do, while seemingly going after their own business, and while I do my own stuff in the false tranquility of the night.

I just need some Nightlife, too, here and there.
I can go to sleep at early afternoon and be really at my peak arount early morning hours, while "normal" people still sleep.

TORTURE NEVER STOPS.
Said the Great Scrutinizer, the Director of Recreational Activities.
The aforementioned Frank Zappa.

May he rest in peace, too.
- 19:16 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

i am. fucked.

i am fucked.

fucked
fucked
fucked

no one ever fucked me like maria.
not even ma...ya. not even klara.
not even sheila, not even yvonne,
not anyone.

no one but maria.
and don't i know it.

it's not about sex.
it's about... maria. and me.

she fucked me,
she fucked me up,
she fucked me over.

over & uit.
- 19:05 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

YOU DO ME

We have to talk about these things, mi amor.

Miamor, Maria, Hermina.

Skotoseme, kill me, I always used to whisper in your ear when you would scream COHE ME, COHE ME!

I mean it. You are the one I allow, you are the one I want to kill me.
Kill me.
Do it, mi amor.

If I have to take you up you ass, I'll do it.
But we have to discuss it first, I feel.
And yet, you never want to talk about relationshiT matters.

Because, I want you to kill me out of love and mercy and empathy.
Not out of rage and anger.

I want it SUAVE, MI AMOR.
Deliberately, gently, consciously, lovingly.

Do me. You do me.
Do me. You did me.
- 18:57 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

I described Her well... Maria

In one of the first ever mentions of Maria, I've described her well, mentioning the emotional depth and torments of Diamanda Galas in a (young, latin) body of Beatrice Dalle in Betty Blue (37.2 C Le Matin), a film by Jean-Jacques Beneix.

And like Diamanda used to sing:
GIVE ME SODOMY OR GIVE ME DEATH

that is precisely what Maria needs. That's why she would always end by telling me, "Revienta me, mi amor. Capriga me."

I never had any interest in her culito in that sense, but she always, always found a reason to say it again, that her guza is for toilet only. Ok, I always thought, I heard you the first time.

But she really needs it. It would be the punishment SHE thinks she deserves.

I only pity the motherfucker who'll dare to do it. She would kill the poor bastard, later, in the affect. And get away with it, for reasons of temporarily diminished rationality/sanity.

It would really be, in a technical sense, a rape. I am sorry, mi amor, I'm not the type.
- 18:51 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

See? This is what happens all the time...

I get a tiny bit too happy, because I feel I made something out of a day, but I know better. I know it's too little too late. Then I get sad and miserably and fall into self-pity all over again. And then I put all this shit on my blog, like it's interesting or something.

My life is.
EMPTY.
Without her.

And it shows.

And so I wait for her to give me some kind of closure so that I can move on, or that DUSHMANI fuck me some more, like out of my work (and consequently out of my apartment) and then I will really have nothing left to lose.

Except myself.
And then I will.

Because, what else is there?
I am going out of my mind every fucking day of this idleness, and one day it'll be a...

SMALL STEP FOR THE HUMANKIND, A STEP TOO FAR FOR PTITCHITZA. It'll be gone. Metaphorically or realisticly.
- 18:35 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Outta my mind

"You're outta your fucking mind", told someone I like to our mutual friend, Stefan (may he rest in peace) after he painted all of his walls in a sickly green.

You should see my walls. It didn't help.

I NEED TO GET OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND, QUICKLY!!!
- 18:31 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Like the Polish Guy

I have better and better understanding for that Polish guy who jumped on a table in some restaurant and cut his own dick off with a knife.

FUCK WOMEN!
You fuck 'em. I just need one, Maria.

If I can't have her, what use to I have for that sweet instrument of torture?
She could make a nice key-holder outta my cock. And add some more tropheys as she goes on.
- 18:25 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Call me Aziz, habiba

I'm easy, she told me once. And I always tried to be easy, for my Maria.

But I'm not as easy, as azizi as Norman is. "He never tried to touch me", she once said something to that effect.

So?

It was the best sex in my adult life, me & Maria. She was enjoying too. And she's not one of those... "chickies" that would fake it. And I did to her -- she told me once after she came like a fucking rocket -- that I did something to her nobody ever did. Now, that I am really proud of, because I would not be at all surprised if Maria has had more than 200 men in her life. I would be just a little bit surprised if it was closer to 2,000.

So, what's wrong in having sex with you? I asked her. "I never once fucked you, I have always made love to you." And I did it the way she liked it, and only on (relatively) rare occasions let myself go when she was set to please me with discerning attention.

And, mind you, only flying is better than sex, Maria (a pilot by profession) would say often.

So where did I go wrong?
Norman does not care as much for Maria as I do. That's where I went wrong. Because she didn't need me to care so much about her. But I couldn't help it. She was the only reason worth living for. I give myself too much, too early -- I can't help it, that's the only way I know.

So where DID i go wrong?
Apparently, I am not as easy as azizi, as Norman.

I was easy habibi.
- 18:12 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Lett me ttel you about something I really know something about

The cheapest good beer in the Netherlands currently is Dommelsch.

I've just bought an 8-pack (0.33) and paid 4.79 euros. I was just told that had I bought the 8 big ones (0.5) I would have, proportionately, saved I dunno how many cents.

The times, when I will know well just how many cents could I have saved, are approaching rapidly.

I've already -- at times, at least -- decided that I need alcohol more than I need food. Beer is food, too. That's why I still have a liiiittle bit of a beer belly, despite losing 10+ kg in recent months...
- 18:02 - Komentari (1) - Isprintaj - #

Fali mi moja guza

I miss mi culito.
I miss me Miss Culito.

I miss my everything.
She was everything to me,
my body and soul,
my consciousness,
my guilt.
My pride and joy, too.

"I'm so dissapointed with my pills", she said once.
I took her in my embrace, I felt so fucking proud of her. And through the tears I've said it to her. "Disappointed?" She is disappointed with her pills. I am fucking disgusted with pills, I never take nor do I need to take any. But she was taking them, despite agreeing with me. She did need help and she gave herself away. I only ever did when I needed catching up on my sleep, urgently.

I thought I was her everything too.
And I guess I was, because I feel her everywhere now
when she is nowhere to be found.

Please release mi, mi amor.
I can't go on like this.

Tell it like it is,
And don't wave your hands so agressively in my face any more.
- 17:48 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU??!

One of the times when Maria scared me was when she started yelling at me, out of the blue:

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??!
WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

I just gave her a puzzled, surprised look thinking that she's not feeling well, and is thinking who knows what.

Now I think she was testing me. I think I've passed the test then, but am failing it spectacularly now, without her.

Then I was just too tired of all the shit and stress that came my way but thought No, I did not give up on life just yet (like Maria sometimes implies).

What is wrong with me? I think it's said in two songs rather well.

"I've been up so G_ddamn long, that it looks like down to me." - is one, only Jim Morrison was singing it other way 'round.

"When I'm 64", sang the Beatles, like... when I was younger I never needed anybody (true), but I am no longer young. I am, as we would say in Croatia, "younger", which means precisely that: no longer young, but not enough "old" to earn our unconditional provincial acclaim. Thus, "younger". Young, younger, old.

Too old to Rock 'n Roll, too young too die. - Jethro said in a similarly themed song.

Yup, I'm an old soul, like Maria. I'm older than 64 in my mind, captivated in the body of an 41 year old.

I thought I was through with my middle age crisis three years ago, when I've discovered that my hair has thinned somewhat. Then I let it grow rrreally long, one last time and started keeping it really short and was OK.

I need work now to be OK again, and don't feel like going to Kazahstan or back to Croatia to get some, and I'm not yet ready for the Netherlands.
- 17:28 - Komentari (1) - Isprintaj - #

Maria's legacy, Maria's Curse?

In recent times, it seems that the happier I get, some sadness always creeps in with the happiness. And then I end up in Thirsty Garry's crying, or writing increasingly stupid posts on my blog, and too many of them too.

I guess it comes with doing something good, like I did today (distributing WORM flyers), but it's too little, too late.

Punk in Drublic, in Soft Egg's cafe.
- 17:22 - Komentari (1) - Isprintaj - #

Smoking again

Tobacco, I stay clear from the other stuff.
I smoke DRUM, Maria's brand.

I never asked her why Drum and not some other brand. I always thought it's because Drum reads Murd otherway 'round, as in Murder, as in Shinning, and Murd rimes with Turd.

Maria is extremely intelligent, she plays little games with herself all the time.
- 17:17 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Born to loose?

I was born to be a looser really, like the entire generation.
I came from too "good" a family to know real loss, really.
Actually, that's not true, it's just that I was always aware
of other people who deserve our pity, our mercy more than we do.

It comes naturally from always having food at the table, and having so "religiously guilty" parents who would always point out to many people
in Africa
who are starving right now, when we turn away the brocolli with disgust.

I was always one of those smart-asses who would in all his childish innocence propose that we wrap up the dinner and send it to Africa.

My proposals were never taken seriously.
I have only ever received (a) slap(s) on the face for my constructive proposals.
- 17:06 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Seven Seconds

(Please remind me if I wrote this already or anything else, for that matter, I can no longer stand to read my own blog)

A famous (?) anthropologist, by the name of (I think) de Vore said that if two people are staring at each other's eyes for up to six seconds (that's quite enough, he believed) it can mean only two things:

1) Either they are getting ready to exterminate each other, they are ready to KILL, or

2) They are ready to make passionate love to each other, they are ready to FUCK.

Maria can no longer stand to look at me. Six seconds are eternity for her, when I am near by. She knows me, I know her. By now it's difficult to tell, I guess she may believe, wheather we'll fuck or kill each other.

But, I could take a long swim in the depths or her eyes for more than six seconds, and then give her a beautiful, relaxed smile. Because, no matter what I always forgive Maria. (That's where I go wrong, she DOES NOT WANT TO BE FORGIVEN!!!)

That's why I like that Youssou 'N Dour song, 7 Seconds. The guy is from Africa, he might have experienced himself the critical 6+ seconds.

Maria and myself, we are one & the same, that's the problem of it all, really.
- 16:58 - Komentari (1) - Isprintaj - #

Listen ya all

I was fucking furious at some of my best friends, relatives and friends last week after reading a bunch of commentaries.

How dare you help me when I haven't asked for your help? Don't you know me better? Do you honestly think I would ask for your help here, at my blog? Don't I call you, don't I call you when if I need help? Don't I call, anyways? Come on, people, I'm tougher than you think. Read this stupid blog more and see it for yourselves.

What I need is PEOPLE. I need company, I need lightness and encouragement. Generally, what I need is what I most often get from Hopey's Inn and Pegula: some understanding and occasional compliment (if I wrote something they really like).

So, to my dearest Manuttko:
(To paraphrase his words) Jebo i ja tebe. Ever & For ever. Like Elvis says to Clarence in True Romance: I always liked, Clarence. I always will.

I always loved you and always will. You do me too. You are the alternative, better, version of myself, I feel. You're also my Id, my forgotten memories.

S-Man, I don't know you, do I? To you, with love (!): Nabijen te nakurac.
You've appeared outta nowhere couple of weeks ago & I don't think for a moment I believe you've read all my blog, cause there's a lot of it. So, how come you dare assume you know me? If we ever meet in person, I'd enjoy talking and getting drunk with you. Take that as a compliment, because it is, but choose your vocabulary more careful when commenting here, because I'm oh, so sensitive.
- 16:31 - Komentari (7) - Isprintaj - #

Message to Kate

Liefe Katelijn,

The center route is all done, except two more shops in the center & Cinerama. There were some WORM (wormweb.nl) flyers still in the Kunstacademie and the Hoge School plus one more place at Meent.

I did them all from the heart, from the memory. I've skipped one particular shop and the Groene Passage. Groene Passage is ALL ABOUT HEALTHY LIVING. These people are obsessed with it, do they ever get to live a bit on a wild side? Worm seems TOTALLY outta place there.

Also, I hate those fucking shops around Beurs and in the shopping center. I left the flyers there (except Men @ Work) but am thinking if only reason that any of those people come to Worm is because they were shopping for shoes, then I don't really care seeing them at our favourite club.

I'll do the Cinerama and the party places in W. de Wittstraat later tonight, when I recuperate a bit. Waterfront was nice, but I think I had a beer or two too much there...
- 16:06 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

Lemme tell ya something about Maria

Maria loves children. She adores them. You should see how she gets when there's a small child near-by, it's beautiful. There isn't a mother in this world who would not entrust her child to Maria.

Even though we were together only for three months (and it's been FOUR months now since we haven't been anywhere near each other), we have discussed having children together. Maria is seriously worried that she can not conceive any more, after having had two abortions and after last time she's had the spyral replaced it gotten somewhat messy. (None of you knows Maria, and there's so many Marias in the world, that's the only reason why I'm telling you any of this highly personal stuff.) We have agreed that if she cannot conceive, we will adopt a baby girl from Venezuela.

Since every day without Maria, I die a little bit more... I have decided with Maria or without, I will one day go to Venezuela and find her. If I can't find Maria, I'll find her sister or mother, even if I have to check all two million entries with her (very popular latin) family name in the phone book. Then I will go with any of them or alone to find a baby girl who will remind me most of Maria. And adopt her.

And I WILL make sure that she growns up happy and healthy. That she remains open and sincere but tough when she needs to be tough. That she believes in herself and that she never doubts herself or her brain.

When that baby Maria growns up, I can go. I will be loved then and then there will be reasons for me to be loved.

Until that happens I will have to try and make amends with a certain 12 year old boy whose parenting I was deprived of, for various reasons.
- 15:44 - Komentari (2) - Isprintaj - #

On Work, Freedom and G_d

Last Friday I had a meeting with an occupational health officer at work. I don't know why I expected this impasse with my work to come closer to some kind of resolution. I guess because I am desperate for some kind of closure.

The night before (when I slept from 6 pm to 2 am) I've dreamt I was on the crew making Apocalypse Now with Francis Ford Coppola.

Did you know "if" is a middle word in LifE?

I was ready to sell my first work of art: my carriere. They seem(ed) to be offering a very fair amount. But if I don't come back to work I'm fucked for real.

And I'm so desperate to have a quiet, happy, constructive year for a change. I'm so fucking tired of all the turmoil in my life & of my occasional bouts of weakness & despair that come out of having all the time in the world and so very little to do to justify it.

If I was working I would not miss Maria, I would not miss anything. I would more appreciate my time, too, because I wouldn't have so much of it anymore.

I hope they've hanged the Nazi bastard who came up with Arbeid Macht Frei slogan in concentration camps. That kind of twisted, perverted, sick, disgusting cynisism should be shot on the spot.

Freedom's just another word for nothing left to loose. The criminally insane moron understood that well decades before Kris Kristofferson (and Janis!) sang about it.

I cannot stand all this freedom anymore. Like Leonard Cohen, "I need some kind of fascistic regime in my life to help me locate some kernel of self-esteem." Without it, I am nothing and I have nothing.

Yes, I've discovered G_d (her name is Maria, it's a G_dess, after all!), but my faith is weak, I never had much of religious fervour.
- 11:08 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

srijeda, 16.01.2008.

Feeling sorry for oneself

Well, there was a bunch of commentaries a week ago over my tendency to cry over the spilt milk. You know, this blog thing is wonderful, because in part and on occasions I do use it to expell my worries and exact some words of support or opinions and so...

I had so many major life changes in recent months, so many people screwed me in most disgusting ways that I had to find a way not to keep all that shit in me because the anger and frustration were poisoning me.

So everybody that's getting annoyed on "where's the usual witty Ptitchitza stuff" these days, there's only this whining & crying & obsessing about Maria... I invite you to measure your own stress level. I did it again just now, and again it went straight to (extremely) high. If you're anywhere near, let me know, and I'll be taking your well-meant but misplaced words of advice more seriously. I have been living under these conditions for some 18 months, and only recently have gotten rid of all (or most) of that anger. That's why (with some exaggeration and wit) I say that I should get a Nobel prize award for Anger Management because noone but me got hurt.

The link is:

http://health.yahoo.com/stress-resources/life-change-stress-test/healthwise--calc008.html
- 14:27 - Komentari (9) - Isprintaj - #

ponedjeljak, 14.01.2008.

From... Euphoria, Escape, Obsession to... Eternity

On a little shelf above the sink in my bathroom there's a small instalation. Between an empty bottle of Obsession and Eternity eau de toilette, there's a blade of scalpel covered in all shades of rust and... Maria's toothbrush. (Earlier, I used to keep my toothbrush in a lover's embrace with hers.)

Before Obsession, there was Euphoria, then there was Escape, then Obsession was all mine for the three long months of silence after she left. It's over now. After her inexplicable silence and a brief, puzzling meeting at Xmas I don't feel I know her anymore.

I'm holding on to Maria that I do know, though. She's the Ghost of the Summer, the Ambassador of Rotterdam and the welcoming Angel to the New Life, the New Beginning. From Her to Eternity.
- 02:17 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

nedjelja, 13.01.2008.

Jos nekoliko dana...

... za izdrzat ovo praznilo, onda pocinjem volontirat na filmskom festivalu u rotterdamu, a krajem mjeseca bi se mozda i zavrzlama s poslom mogla rijesiti. Ubija me neizvjesnost i svo vrijeme koje imam na raspolaganju da izmislim sve najgore scenarije, haha.

"Postolar i vrag", tako se, mislim, zvala ona Senoina pjesma koju mi je otac rado citao kao klincu, s refrenom "Prodje vrijeme, rok na rok, eto vraga skok na skok". 1966. sam u maticnoj knjizi rodjenih u jugoslavenskoj ambasadi u Helsinkiju uveden na stranici 1, redni broj 1, 1974. smo se vratili u Hrvatsku. Steta sto roditelji nisu zatrazili dvojno drzavljanstvo za mene, sada bi mi opcije bile sire. Ja sam sada u slicnoj situaciji kao i oni tada, kada su nakon 13 godina zivota u inozemstvu dvojili da li se vratiti ili ne. Otac je uvijek bio glas razuma, majka glas srca. Srce je prevladalo tada, iako sam ih u medjuvremenu oboje cuo da kazu da je vjerojatno bilo bolje da su ostali. Odluke koje sam posljednjih par godina napravio su sve u smjeru daljnjeg ostanka u NL ali ce bit vrlo gusto ako moram promijenit posao, jer cu vjerojatno morat pocet s nizom placom a izdaci su narasli s kupnjom stana. Papirologija mojeg prelaska u NL sistem traje mjesecima, a ja sam je tek zapoceo, donedavna ziveci zivot (donekle barem) "privilegiranog stranca" u svojevrsnoj enklavi koja je prvotno stvorena sto iz inercije i zelje da se zaborave sva sranja koja je rat izazvao, a potom izbjegavanjem bavljenja ozbiljnim egzistencijalnim pitanjima.

Well... the time is now. It's hero time, makar s malim "h".
- 01:50 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

ponedjeljak, 07.01.2008.

Schpan Marindvora

So, there: I've confessed my Obsession (as if it wasn't obvious enough). In that sense, perhaps this blog should be renamed to

SPAN MARINDVORA

(with a little "v" on top of the "S"). Span is a hungarian expression that carries extra significance to me (I'm not saying what exactly) meaning a person that takes care of the landowner's estate. "Droste" carries similar meaning in old German.

She loves me. And if this is my delusion, so what? I need it. Reality, after all is a delusion caused by lack of ...

If she didn't love me still, she could stand seeing me and being with me, even if only as a friend. If she didn't love me, she would have told me something about these allegedly so terrible things she did during the last 12 years at the time she broke up with me, when it would not have mattered if she lost me. She told me earlier, that it's the knot she carries in her throat: she wants to tell me, but everybody that she did tell left her. Nothing she could have done would have turned me away from her: what and who she is now is a result of all the things she's been through in her past.

I want to know every little thing about her. But she is tormented, she is torn apart, and unlike me does not want to bring the painful issues back from memory to deal with. She focuses on things that are positive and light and in that she is healhier a personality than I am. But she has suffered so much more than I have that for her this is a necessity. For me it would be an escapism.

Because I love her so "obsessively", I am dangerous for her. It's not that I press her buttons, but my "disposition" is simply too different.

She told me once that I like "darkness". I don't love it, I NEED it, to exorcise my own pain, it a cathartic release for me.

I think I am coming to terms with her absence. My happiness will not remain her hostage forever, but she has ensured that our love has remained unspoiled. There was nothing bad that happened between us when she broke up with me. Another proof she wanted to leave it on a "high note".

I also feel I have another chance: I need to sort out one remaining aspect of my life: work. This will ensure, the daily structure that it provides, that all the remaining parts of the puzzle come in place. If she is still in the country when it happens (it should happen within a month), perhaps we will reestablish some kind of contact between us. I need to believe that.
- 13:22 - Komentari (32) - Isprintaj - #

nedjelja, 06.01.2008.

Nothing human loves forever

I am a neurotic, there's no doubt about it. Most of us are in one way or another. Nothing less, but nothing more either. To paraphrase my highschool textbook definition of a neurotic vs. psychotic, for a psychotic 2 + 2 = 5. For a neurotic, 2 + 2 = 4 but he is deeply unhappy about it.

The equation of my neurosis these months, or even obsession is that 1 + 1 = as much as we want to make out of it, if another 1 is Maria. Among some of the things she said or did that are roaming in my brain there are two that I also interpret as a proof that she still loves me.

Once (toward the end of our brief relationship) she said that "she wants to make me hate her". On another hand, she would never ever let me take a picture of her. She has shown me some of the pictures she has, some are torn in half, the ones where she was with the lover she went with to Italy when she was 20, an event that because of its consequences she now sees as a turning point in her life having become "ruined".

These two things could be interpreted as her wanting to release herself from my love without feeling guilty, if I "hate her", and at the same time this would make me toughen up in my future. Quite a few people took advantage of my trusting nature, and Rotterdam is a tough place, she was warning me about it. But I'm tough enough.

Not wanting me to have photographs of her perhaps is an expression of her wish to remain in my memory in the version that my memory will filter from negative things. Also, she has seen how self-destructive I was behaving last year and perhaps did not want to be the subject of such outbursts.

But, I can never hate her. I always forgive her, times and times again. I will always love her, but it doesn't mean I will not love again. Just that perhaps I will learn to be more healthily selfish.

She is so beautiful to me, in every way. I even love her neurosis, it just pains me I can not help her in coming to terms with some of them. I love her the way she is.

We are full of contradictions, I guess. Where I make a step above simple neurosis, towards 2 + 2 = 5 is my desire and "obsession" of us being together even if only as friends. She is definitely wiser than I am, at least in the realm of relationships. She does not want to be unhappy about our 1 + 1 = (infinity). I think I know why is that: it's because we provide a certain legitimacy to each other in remaining how we are. I am quite fine and at ease the way I am, but she is not all that at ease the way she is, or the way she was. The two of us would make a world apart together, as she may be afraid of that world.

See how complicated simple arythmetics can get?

I have once referred to our relationship as the relationship of the two "undead" sharing the same hunger, not unlike C. Deneuve and D. Bowie in the film Hunger.

Nothing human loves forever

is a tag line for the film. "I gave up (on life)" Maria would say often and I would always counter it, but last year I have also at time given up on anything but her.

She told me once of couples in love in such tragic circumstances ending their lives by jumping off a cliff together. I am not suicidal, but the idea still has an appeal to me. I'd choose pills or some (other) drugs to do it, but Maria is a physical type, if would need to be beautiful cliff.

It pains me so much that we live in the same city and I never get to see her, that I can't even have a friendship with her. Perhaps some day a good novel or at least a short story will come out of it.
- 12:18 - Komentari (2) - Isprintaj - #

subota, 05.01.2008.

Rijec godine

Rijec godine 2007:
LASTIG = naporan (niz.)

Rijec godine 2008:
RUSTIG = miran, stalozen (niz.)
- 11:16 - Komentari (0) - Isprintaj - #

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  • HEINEKEN or: Is there life before death in the Netherlands?
    Ovaj je blog nastao u nesretnim vremenima kao dokument postepenog raspada zivota kakvog sam znao. U posljednje vrijeme pisem ga cesce na engleskom jer mi pomaze ako imam razloga misliti da ga mozda cita moja neprezaljena Femme Fatale.

    This blog has been created in times of a personal crisis. Mistaken is (s)he who thinks that only bad times define me; they do, however, provide a referential point in determining a personal span of happiness.

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Komentari

  • su dobrodosli, osobito ako ih stavite ispod postova kojih se ticu. Bez obzira kada je neki post objavljen, s nekom redovnoscu pregledavam ih sve i odgovor na svaki komentar koji ga trazi ce uslijediti.

Tresla se zemlja...

  • Misliti je [sto?] znati? - I am what I is - Ne hodaj malen ispod zvijezda 1 i 2 - Adios pameti: 1, 2, 3, 4 - Miles to go before YOU sleep: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 - Pticja kreketanja: 1, 2, 3 - I bruise easily - Proljetna depresija - It's O'Gay! - Les femmes fatales: 1, 2, 3 - Shadow Boxing: 1

    (Ova cijela 'arhiva' nije od davnina bila azurirana & posljedicno je sadly out-of-date... a nece biti osvjezena barem jos mjesec dana. Eto.)