It’s been a long time, sure but here it is: a peek into my favorite part of this Spring 🙂
Zna se šta je red – ono u čemu se stoji, dreždi, čeka pa dočeka. Nekad su to bile ogromne horde penzionera pred marketima jer stiglo ulje (!) a sad je to češće neka urbana ekipica gologuzije ispred radnje sa preskupim krpicama na sniženju od 0,5% jer – roba s greškom..
Kako god, red je oduvek bio prepoznatljiv geometrijski oblik i bez mnogo filozofije oko pravila pozicije: ko stigao ranije taj šalteru bliže. I to je to.
No vremena se menjaju a s njima i moda i pravila i običaji i..sve, pa tako dođe zeman da i mi ovde u ovom najneevropskijem delu Evrope podignemo nogu da se potkujemo te se po dojučerašnjim otomanskim sokacima i komunističkim ćoškovima počeše otvarati nekakve super-moderne radnje gde je kao sve kul (cool) i gde je sve (d)opušteno i gde i ovi što rade kao da ne rade nego eto bleje malo s mušterijama.. Tu se sedi za nekim ogromnim trpezarijskim stolovima, u polumraku, skoro da čovek očekuje da neko posluži ručak ili barem neko meze, a alkohol svakako bolno nedostaje..
E u tim i takvim super-prostorima budućnosti koja je već stigla – ne zna se nikakav red.
I to je OK, tamo negde, daleko iza duge, gde ljudi nisu nadrndani i ljuti ko gladni psi, i posebno laki na podvali.. Tamo negde u nekoj opuštenoj (čitaj: finansijski & socijalno sređenijoj) zemlji, opušten čovek opušteno dođe i sedne opušteno negde sa strane, a neki opušteni zaposlenik će mu već pritrčati jer takav je red..tamo negde.
Ovde pak stvari stoje malo drugačije. Preciznije, klate se na ivici sukoba i bunila, kao većina svega uostalom. Ovde čovek (neopušten, naravno) dođe i zbunjeno stane sa strane, pa kad vidi da mu se niko ne obraća i da ne može da raspozna ko do đavola ovde radi a ko jaja ladi – sedne (i dalje neopušteno, pa sve neopuštenije) i počne da se osvrće oko sebe u polumraku, sve u nadi da će na kraju predugog radnog (ili jadnog) dana uspeti da popamti sva lica i sve pozicije koje ta lica zauzimaju jer kad dođe do konačnog obračuna, to će mu znanje jedino trebati.
Onaj koji tim i takvim znanjem bude raspolagao i koji to znanje najglasnije i najubedljivije bude svima obznanio, e taj će biti ultimativni pobednik. Taj će dočekati svoj red. (Citat, Tarabići.) Na ovom ukletom mestu gde se nikakav red golim okom ne vidi.
Možda je to zato što pravog reda tu i nema. A možda samo zato što je ovako mnogo, mnogo zabavnije.. Ili smo to opet nešto pogrešno prepisali od Jevrope?
Sometimes all it takes is a small intervention and you can make this world a better place. Well, not the whole wide world, of course, but your own little corner. And that’s OK – you gotta start somewhere, right? So start from your walls! There’s nothing more depressing than empty walls. (Except for the jail bars maybe..) Luckily, this is easy to solve and here’s a useful link if you want some quality art hanging around you (because, you gotta have the right strategy for everything, art included!) ❤
I’ve been telling people about missnikolix quite a lot recently when it suddenly hit me – this poor blog hasn’t seen a new post from me since January?! It’s like asking people to come and see you and then.. not be there when they do!
There’s not much I can do about it now, though. I could probably write a zillion lame excuses when in reality all my efforts to explain such a long, long absence can fit into a single word: IKIGAI.
I’m on my quest to find my own IKIGAI and that’s my main mission for this year (and all the years to come, until I find it, even if it takes me forever and a day!) and that’s my only excuse.
IKIGAI is a Japanese concept perfectly explaining the meaning of life if you ask me. (That is, if you insist on your life having some meaning!) I won’t be getting into details here as you can find out more (or all!) about it online so this little explanatory image will have to do 🙂
The year MMXVII has already begun, all in white, and hopefully it will stay that way – beautiful, neat & pure – a clean slate for all of us sinners to draw something nice & sweet on it.. this time around ❤
We all know how love stories are made. The formula is simple, usually boy meets girl – boy impresses/seduces/gets the girl (or vice versa, who cares?) – boy & girl fall in love and after the honey moon is over it’s up to them whether some of that loving feeling will remain for the future or not.
Not all the stories go through all of the phases I listed above, though. Some get stuck somewhere along the way and the main reason for that sort of damage is quite often just a crazy little thing called – misunderstanding.*
(*I said often, not always! Sometimes people are just wrong for each other!)
When you come to think of it – everything always begins with some kind of understanding between people in the first place! Understanding comes first, as a herald of possibilities to be explored.
Before anything even starts, there comes an agreement between the two parts of the puzzle, while the main characters are still standing on the opposite sides of a future relationship as two shores with a bridge under construction between them. Understanding is that bridge.
But, let’s get back to the lovers-wanna-be.
At first they believe they want the same thing and then they believe they can get that thing from each other but all the while one thing is sure: they believe each other. They share a vision, if you want. They dream the same dream or so they think. They want to try something new, they want to make their worlds a bit more colorful, they want to feel more alive, they want the thrill of a new beginning with someone new, someone who hasn’t disappointed them yet and still has a chance to never disappoint them at all, ever! They want to have, touch & feel more than they did yesterday when there was still no hope for love in their lives, no spark to light up their nights or screens or everyday routines. They become greedy for that irresistible feeling and they furiously build up the hype of their excitement about each other. They are heading each other’s way and they are unstoppable, like navigated missiles on a war mission. Once released, they cannot be revoked and the collision is bound to happen.
And this is where the danger zone begins. (Red lights are starting to flicker and alarm should go off any second now.. )
There are all sorts of collisions. Some good and sexy and unifying. Others just plane destructive. And sometimes you don’t know which way it’s gonna go down until the very end (which more often than not comes suddenly). What to do when that happens? When it seems like there’s not much (or anything) else to say or do or try?
Well, maybe there’s still one word left even then: SORRY.
Sorry may not make it all right nor will it make the escaped lover come back or say something in reply, but at least it will make silence more bearable and, who knows, maybe even peaceful. Sorry will always send the right message. Even when you think you’re hurt, you can never know what the other side feels. From their point of view you might be the villain.
A little bit of (mis)understanding can go a long way..
I came across an interesting headline the other day, it was just a clickbait for one of the websites that claim to provide great advice to confused women everywhere and it was supposed to teach us girls “How to Be Every Man’s Fantasy”.
Instantly, I felt there was something so seriously wrong with the idea that it got me thinking..
I didn’t even have to click on the magic formula to know what I would probably find there. I could guess with a terrifying accuracy what the resourceful author recommended in his or her 9 tips that would guarantee you a free pass to every man’s mind, heart, pants and wallet but that’s not the point.
Because, oh wait!
What kind* of woman would want to be every man’s fantasy?
(*Only professional daters – to put it mildly! – perhaps!?)
What would be the point of being just about every man’s fantasy? Who needs that? And why would any woman want to be a fantasy in the first place?
Wouldn’t it be healthier to assume that a woman would want to be real for one particular man of her own choice? Wouldn’t it be a safer bet to suppose that there are women who don’t care about all the men in this world but only for some – those who somehow inspire interest and with that – emotions, hopes, dreams, expectations..?
Or is it a matter of personal vanity, put so high on the pedestal in our civilization of the moment, that we’re almost made into brainless and emotionless dolls, craving nothing more than a bit of aesthetic and sexual appreciation from men? (Seems that this is exactly what’s been heading our way since forever but that’s another story..)
Be that as it may, it’s not over till it’s over, there’s still room for personal choices here. (Or at least I like to think so!) A woman can choose to be an exception to this rule, no matter how painful that sometimes turns out to be as it may seem that this empty, doll-like behavior is exactly what men want, regardless of who they are and how smart or sensitive or thoughtful they appear to be.
Nonetheless, we all need fantasies sometimes.
We’re only human and we need imagination to pull us through emotional rough patches while we struggle to give someone new a chance after having been disappointed far too many times and there’s nothing wrong with that.
There’s just one little thing to bear in mind: fantasies can be dangerous. Especially when you completely ignore the real person standing behind. Because that person may well be you!
Shit happens all the time. Love happens rarely, if ever. Well, that’s just the way of the world, that’s how things are aligned so we can grow inside or lose our minds or develop thicker skins to better serve us as we move on through life, better equipped for all the future hurdles in the way, who knows.. If that’s how you choose to look at it then fine, it’s probably easier to find peace when everything has some deeper meaning or purpose or whatever.
But what if you just don’t care?
What if you want some happiness right here right now, while you’re still eager to get it, while you’re ready and (hardly) waiting for something extraordinary to happen at last?
What if you don’t have time or energy or enough nerves or brain cells to try and explain everything and convince yourself that it will surely all be for the better in the end?
What if, at this very moment, you’re at the end of your wits and at the end of your patience on top of that?
What if you have reached a place where you don’t care about the future gains or if some shit falling on your head right now will make you more capable of dealing with life’s enigmatic demands in the future?
What if you just want some love, sex & happiness straightaway?
Instant gratification is what I’m talking about here and I see no reason why anyone should ever be afraid or ashamed to admit it or ask for it?! Maybe you’ve been asleep for too long and now that you’re finally coming out of your long, long hibernation you need some love to support you immediately and you just don’t have time to wait. In fact, the longer you wait the further away you’ll move from the source of promise. That’s the way it is, it’s a law of some kind and there’s no way around it, no way of changing it, that’s how it’s always worked and always will. I’m all too familiar with this mechanism to ever be so naive as to believe someone – anyone! – will be able to avoid it or beat it someday.
And that makes me sad.
Because, ultimately, love is on the line here.
Love was promised but never delivered in this story I know, promises were made but promised words never became actions. Love was somewhere in the air, in words and dreams, but never in reality, never in the future that inevitably came and clearly exposed emptiness, brought it out in the open for everyone to see. The silence was too loud to ignore and the conclusion was easy to make: instead of keeping the gravitation in the thin orbit of his elusive promise of love, the man who once wanted to be the source has just let go. His love was unconvincing, his words faded against reality far too soon.
Why did that happen?
Perhaps we’ll never know, but does it really matter anyway? What matters is another missed chance at happiness. And those chances don’t come along so often.. He promised, he offered love, he came to put his heart where his mouth was and failed miserably. Now he’s nowhere to be found or lost somewhere or hiding or running away from it all or licking his regrets or whatever.. and love is once again left unconvinced. End of story.
It could have been a love story..
October can be funny over here: a slice of sunshine followed by a thick layer of heavy clouds, a roller coaster ride over the crazy mix of summer & winter, a surprise party every time you venture outside.. But in spite of never knowing what to wear and often trembling or sweating under the wrong choice of clothes there’s so much autumn beauty all over the place that everything must be forgiven ❤