On new projects, and the ones as old as balls

    A lot has happened since the last time I've written on this blog. I have dropped out of University (what a shock I know), and wondered what the fuck will I do with my life in this beautiful country Serbia. 

    Of course, since I was a child I've been a driven justice-seeking-Johnny-Rotten-like philosopher, and that got put on hold at the same moment when I realised that Love is actually the one thing in this world that is the most important. It's the only thing that makes life worthwhile. It's survival, and it's safety, and it's a dream come true.

    Nothing else matters, having all the money in the world, going to concerts and seeing the glimpse of a person you used to be in the mirror while passing by in hurry to make it to yet another useless life's class on how to be a proper adult. It doesn't matter, if you come back home to a room you've slept in since you could breathe. 

    And all of a sudden, I got it. I swear to God, it's everything they say it is. And more. And it's exactly what I was looking for. And I want to say that I don't write anymore - I do, of course I do- just not about a broken heart and shooting stars. 

    Recently, I became that glimpse I used to pass by again. And I'm concentrating more on the adult part of life, such as the "no future" that has been inked to my soul since high school. And of course, the thought about how we're all just stumbling around trying to find cheap organic vegetables to gain the illusion that we're actually taking care of ourselves better now than when we were living with our parents, safe, warm, without paying the electricity bills... fucking electricity bills.

    Anyways, the project that has been officially written is "Light the candle to support the Sun" which is the poetry anthology book written in the years between 2014 and 2020. 

The book is ready to be published on Amazon KDP, because I'm doing everything alone and no Serbian publishers want to publish poetry written in English from a writer that doesn't know their ass from their pen holding hand. 

    That's the project I will be focusing on promoting the most, and it will be officially published by the end of June, or start of July. There will be a countdown and everything, I want the fireworks of course!

And the next project I am preparing is "The United States of Serbia" which is a book? A memoir? Maybe a collection of essays, all related, to my life. And lives of my peers in Serbia who don't know what the fuck to do in this country with no University and options like cleaning the streets and being a teacher that grant the same salary... And of course, this project is kind of a work in progress, which means that it's nowhere near finished, but it's developing quite nicely for the past few months. 

    So basically that's all on the past and future projects for now that I have prepared, stay tuned of course! 

    I am preparing the official youtube channel where you can tune in and watch me ramble about anything and everything, ask questions, and of course, follow for more updates on this bundle of chaotic energy poured into words!

I'm back!

    After a very long time I closed  very big poetry chapter in my life. I have finished the last poetry book, and finally completed the anthology book with around 100 poems written since 2014. 

I have decided it's time to publish, although the word "amateur" is too soft for what I am  and I'm going around this with my legs tied and a broken flashlight in a cave - but hey, how hard can that be? Very. Never stopped me before though.

    As soon as I figure out how to link the new Instagram account to this blog I'll do it, and many other things that I am probably forgetting about now... 

Anyways, it's a lovely day today, and it's only getting better ^^

Be nice or go away.

Say something nice or go away. I swear to god if the next thing that comes out of your mouth is any kind of judgment, anything that even resembles something malicious, a fucking observation that would rub me the wrong way, i swear to fucking god i will riot.
Long time no see, let's skip the pleasantries because right now i'm everything but. It wasn't a bad week, this day wasn't shit at all, but some of my pent up anger got released and i feel like i am going to go crazy if i don't scream; i swear i'm gonna scream myself hoarse and won't regret a second of it. Would that make me feel better? Probably not, but what are my options here. It's like, letting this kind of shit fly is fucking damaging my fucking sanity, i can't start a single conversation, can't answer a single question, can't even think properly with this much pettiness and negativity in this shoebox of a room. Get a hobby kid, and mind your own goddamn business. Is that too much to ask? And this goes out to anyone, everyone, who thinks that a proper conversation starters should without a doubt start with slamming some other person just because you don't agree with what they do. Does it hurt anybody? If the answer's no, then let it go, move on, bon voyage and fuck off. It's really that simple.
On another note, yeah, i've been away from home a bit too long so i didn't really have an outlet this week so this will have to play substitute. Fuck this, jesus, i'm still angry as shit. How about something nice, anything, tell me about the weather or a fresh, new meme? Maybe you saw a dog yesterday, tell me about the fucking dog you saw two years ago because i....... I'm breathing. I'm cool, 's alright.
Don't read between the lines, just start saying nice things more and keep your mean opinions about people you've never met to yourself, because newsflash, nobody gives a shit about who you dislike because they looked at you sideways. Or just get a twitter and scream into the void like normal people, and oh yeah, ffs leave me out of it. 

Do not call December dull

Do not call December dull,
Oh do not dare
for its greatness shined so fiercely once
as the Winter warmed a cold heart;
warmed a lonely, frozen, yet beating heart
to raise me forever in its debt.
I will not mourn the slippery roads
and brakes that wouldn't hold;
I promise, no more.
For the chill has left my soul
the moment I was let to come home.
Do not call December dull
oh do not dare,
for its greatness shined so fiercely once,
for it was me who it saved.

Just a bit too bold but who gives a fuck.

Maybe that fucked me up when i was a kid. Being ashamed of having feelings, good or bad, feelings at all. I hid it all, and i ended up a poor excuse for a grown up adult type of a person, who needs help from several people in just defining the feeling achieved or avoided. I can't do it alone, i don't have it in myself, it's like there's a switch but i don't know how to use it. Sometimes i cry and i don't know why, and sometimes i guess right. Like, take now for example. It's like i can't breathe right. I see red every time i try to recall the drunken fiasco. And i cry when i think that i'm bored, but that never happened before so i presume it can't be because i miss a fucking habit? It just can't be, doesn't fit in. And i reach for my phone, every single damn time the space seed announces some shit i mostly don't give a shit about, and for a second i think that maybe, just maybe, we can still get it right. But we can't. And i left things go unsaid, not because i didn't want to say them, but because i couldn't fucking remember a single thing i wanted to say between the shots, shots, shots, and the slurring of words i wish to god i'd avoided. And all i can say is that i miss you, but she asked me what the fuck do i actually miss and i don't know. I don't know and i can't find out because you are not the first. Statistically you most definitely won't be the last and i'll will probably not have learned a damn thing by the time the next one rolls their way into this chaos i sometimes dare to call a life. And fuck. I wrote a variation of this shit at least three times in the past week, and i couldn't bring myself to actually share it, even though i know it will never get read by any other person than myself, i consider it to daring, too honest and i might feel vulnerable? A tiny bit insecure? I mean who the fuck knows by now, read me, read me and tell me because i don't know. Jesus, it's fucking liberating to say it like that. I don't know. See, not familiar with this feeling either. I want to ask what the fuck is actually wrong with me, but the list of what is right is a lot shorter and maybe we could all save ourselves some precious time and just say, maybe a couple of things. Maybe, on a good day. Because it's 6am and i haven;t slept again, and i miss your stupid voice and i miss waking up with a sense of purpose and i want one to come back a bit more than the other, and if you guessed right which one, then you know exactly why i'm asking, what in the ever loving fuck is actually wrong with me?

cold coffee

I've never missed an opportunity to hate on cold coffee
and tonight I'm comparing it to you
because for some reason i can't finish a warm cup anymore
i end up drinking it up at 4am
when the warmth is long gone and replaced with something unholy
you're cold coffee love
i drink you up and i'm not satisfied
before the sun comes up you leave traces on my tongue i have yet to muster the will to spit out and try my best to forget
i say i hate you but i can't get enough of you at 3am when i can't sleep
because you used to be warm
and i remember it clearly
how you used to be so warm
and i can't sleep
because when i close my eyes
i can't feel
and i must
because I'm nothing without these feelings
I'm nothing without these poems
I feel like I'm nothing without you
and i don't want to disappear
while i still know what dying means
i don't want you to leave this poor attempt at thinking that somehow you're still here
like you never left in the first place
because i never wanted you to leave
and i dwell on what's lost like it's the only thing i know how to do
while at the same time i pray that someday
I'll pour you out and drink it warm again

tootime

Pack your bags You don't really own bags so pack your shit in somebody else's bags and return them after you move. What about the next move? Well it's yours so i don't really give a shit now. I did my part and i'm on my fucking way. The safety net's gone kid, you gotta make it on your own now. And all i want to do is sit in my own room at home and stare at Johnny Rotten on the wall and feel bored. I miss being bored. And i miss that one summer when we were free and stupid and in the midst of everything, we were happy. Board the train you coward. You know you'll be just fine. It's just another thing you'll get through and get used to. And it could be fun? It'll be fun dude. I know that i'm supposed to feel excited but jesus it's just hard ya know. There's still chance for me to fuck it all up, never underestimate my ability to fuck shit up. No one's doing that though. Feel's like you're counting on it. And from the bottom of my heart i'd like to say "sorry to disappoint" but i can't say that, not just yet anyway. Tomorrow will be better i promise. And it's a fucking rip off. Walk out though. Walk out and don't look back, i swear to god i wouldn't think twice doing it either. Even though i act like i would, even though i say i would. I lied. I mean, i had to? Because it was easier to do so? What am i even doing anymore. Trying to save my ass i guess. Not the right way? Still the only way i know how. And that's alright for now. And i know it's not, but this is a conscious decision i made. Because i don't have time for this. I don't have time at all. Wish i never did. Might as well pack my bags and leave early.