“Man! I feel like a woman” and “Addicted to love”
You see it too, da? 🙂
Water. No smell. No taste. And takes the shape of a vessel you put it in. It cannot be held in hands for it slips through the fingers. Yet it makes a path through stones of a mountain.
when the snow on mountain peak melts in the late spring (for that mountain peak is high above us), it is a promise of new life
flowers bloom and cover the grass
yet, water that was left after the ice melted, threatens to flood the town beneath it
Darko Domijan’s “Ulica jorgovana”
a scent on a pillow
a memory of non-rotten happiness
a promise that life is good
it’s been so long since she was there
how is it possible to still feel her in your nostrils
her front chambers are so sweet
so hard to resist them
you want, no, you need to know what is in the next chamber
she takes you by the hand
and leads you
this is her medal for being smart-ass
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Listen to Alisa’s “Sanja”:
Nemoj Sanja da se menjas – Do not change Sanja
da se stidis lazi – do not be ashamed of lies
najlepsa si kakva jesi – you are the most beautiful the way you are
ne dozvoli da te iko kvari – do not allow anyone to taint you
She asked for some whores that are able to give pleasure in unusual ways.
“All whores can do that, sir, ugh, ma’am.”, said the Inn keeper.
“Not to me, not the thrill I seek for.”, she said as she put another bill in his hand. This was the language the Inn keeper loved and understood well. He offered her light dinner.
“Whore keeper will come soon.”
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“Mum, you are not listening to me! It makes me feel unimportant!”, my 5.5 yo mouse complained.
“I am listening to you. I was in the middle of answering your last question when you started to ask the next one.”
“When you do not listen, I feel unimportant. Even TV says I am not important!”
“What? TV? How?”Read More »
9yo, 7yo, 6yo and 3yo sitting in the room. 9yo and 7yo are on their parent’s smartphones, playing games or something from youtube. 3yo is protesting because there is no phone available for her. 6yo wondering why his mum doesn’t allow him to use her phone.
early in the morning. commuting.
passanger and conducter paraphrise famous folk song
“ticket is in my pocket”
“ah, you are going to white zagreb city?”
they made me smile
one smile down, more to go
that read this poem to find yourself in it
that want to react
and to you
that dont give a sh*t,
this one is for me, not you
so go away, dont waste your time
go, i say, shoo
The city was one of the pioneers of modern age with functional sewerage system. Unfortunately, it was intended to be used by a significantly less number of people than the city was holding now. In the last decade, the number of residents tripled, everybody wanted to enjoy the cozy life of stench free metropolis.
Built in lids where a building would connect to the public sewerage system where there to prevent its content to get back into those houses. This solved the problem for most of the private homes where the frequency of toilet visitors was reasonably small. Buildings that provided public service to the citizens often had problems with lids’ springs jumping out their seats.
Wealthy city once again needed help from poor people that were willing to work all sorts of jobs just to make ends meet. Even among those jobs, there were jobs considered less glamorous than others. Entering sewerage system to fix the lids was one of them, it took a lot to cross a border of one own’s mindset and become a sewerage worker. People often cross the borders of their own mindsets. Sadly, most of the time bad circumstances make them do that. We rarely cross the borders for the mere fun of it.
If one got lucky as a sewerage worker, during a shift, one would service a building used by opulent people. Those buildings had lids beneath toilets so most of the time there was no need to immerse completely into the sewer to find the lid and fix the spring. Opening the toilet and reaching the lid was a job for men tiny in size for normally sized men had too big and too rough hands to find and fix something as delicate as the spring.