Story already been told...

That story has already been told... loads of times.. but I never heard ending... or I just wanted to live in Cinderella world where everything ends up that everyone "live happily ever after". That story about two people from different worlds, different places and yet so simillar and passionate about same things. Two people who can spend the night talking about everything that comes in their mind, who can hide under the sheets from the rest of the world and feel eachothers heart beat and listen how other is breathing... two people who can't be together, but maybe they still want to... not because they want to fight the whole world, they just want to... just a passion coming over night, staying around in the morning when they open their eyes and when they smile... laughter, so pure, so gentle, so full of life... sleepless nights with difficult decisions on their minds... a tear which is sliding from one's cheak, slowly... like it never wants to leave that soft face and dissapear in the pillow... a hug, strong but gentle, protective, like there is noone else in the world... a kiss, soft, sweet... two people from two different worlds... and yet.. so alike... two worlds which will never come together...
...but it was just a dream...  just some images flashing here and there before my eyes... a dream that I enjoyed dreaming...
yes... it was already told... long time ago... but I never heard ending... or I didn't want to... nor I want to hear it now... maybe I should... maybe it is time to listen the story until the end... and realize that I will never be Cinderella and that all of my shoes are here.... maybe it is time to grow up...
but I don't want to...
the story already told... but words left unsaid...

17 minutes of pure happiness... or is it?

Since I was a little girl I always liked big stuff. I always wanted to sit on a big chair, always wanted people to call me big girl, to drive in a big car, to go to a big cities to eat a big hamburger and have big coke even if I couldn't finish it. There was always something mysterious about big people and they always had my admiration. I like to imagine that even Al Pacino is tall and big guy and when I found out that he is just a Shorty I was quite disappointed. Basketball players, volley players and of course, Water polo players were always my type of guys and when I was growing up they always has my heart on a plate. Approximately when I was 18 I went inside this mysterious world of habba-habba or what would my Indonesian friends said "yeah, all Bule like to fuck around right". In past 11 years I had all kind of discussions on the topic with friends and people I met on the way. Was never embarrassed to talk about sex and that topic was always infiltrating somehow in everyday's conversation. Was never embarrassed to go to pharmacy and buy condoms, to start talking to a guy that I liked, to mention some things from my private life just for compare or personal experience. I have always had more guys friends than girls and I always had some serious discussions with them about size, shape, techniques, poses and many other stuff. Sex is always favorite topic and people always talk about it no matter what, at least in my world, not in the world I'm living in right now. It is always about getting it to be better and better and in years you get to know your body and you know what feels good for you but of course when you meet someone, they usually don't know what you like and it takes some time to get to know each other. Lately, I had number of completely funny situations connected with sex partners and I always wanted to talk about it but never had a chance and I thought that someone will get offended but it is not really that I care right now.
Let's go back to the point where I saw the smallest thing in the world... well, it wasn't that long time ago since it is commonly known that Asians have 40% smaller penises that Europeans and I just moved to Asia. So, I did not want to date Asian guy, first thing, they are not really handsome, they are short, small, skinny and somewhere in my subconscious I knew that there is nothing for me beneath their small bellies. So I just enjoyed my life in Indonesia without having a guy in my life. I had few dates here and there, met few nice guys, dated a Brazilian guy which happened to be everything but Latino lover. Having sex with him was absolutely hilarious and even he had nice average piece, having sex with someone who is texting his friends during the intercourse was completely unacceptable and after that he couldn't realize why I never wanted to have sex with him again, there you are Brazilian sugar, sex with you sucked till the bottom end. Next time I saw penis I got such a huge headache that I had to go home and laugh my ass off. Yes, I'm being a little bit harsh but that was the smallest thing I saw and it would be waste of time taking my clothes off. That guy was really nice to me, took me out on few dates, we had fun and then we tried to have sex and he was quicker in the process of taking his clothes off so when I realized what I need to put up with I just told him that I don't feel so good and that I want to go home.... Finally this one Asian guy got me and we had sex couple of times and every time I asked myself WHY?!?! Last time we had sex, before we entered the room I look at my phone and I saw it was 10pm. When we left that room it was 10:17pm which gives us total value of 17 minutes. Oh yes, 17 minutes of hard sweating would be fabulous but... what happened during those 17 minutes. We entered the room, had a chat about photos on the wall, we started kissing, had quite of 3-4 min of kissing, we took our clothes off and before I even felt it was inside he was already shaking his whole body in sweet orgasm. I was looking at him and I couldn't believe... hello, I'm here too... after that we both take a quick shower and left the room at 10:17pm. Before that he told me that all of his girlfriends were completely satisfied with their sex life. After that I decided never to have sex with him again. He was pushy for a while, keep on calling me but at the end he gave up. I don't want to discuss the size, it would take such a small amount of time :D

He wasn't the first one who was bragging around about his sex life and how satisfied his girlfriends were. Usually those kind of guys are the worst one and they never make their girlfriends happy in bed. When you meet a guy who doesn't talk about his sex life, who has a mysterious smile and touch of an angel... that guy knows what is he doing and how to do it... 

And the thing about the size... well... yes, it does matter :)

Jedan od onih dana...

Juče sam primetila da u mojoj sobi nedostaje jedna slika moje mame. Jednostavno je nema. Pretražila sam celu sobu ali slike nije bilo. Čovek bi pomislio da u ovom haosu u kojem živim tako nešto je jedva primetno, da među svim mojim stvarima na tom stoliću koje skupljaju prašinu koju baš nemam nameru da obrišem, neko jedva može da primeti da jedna slika nedostaje. Verovatno da sam kući ili bilo gde u Srbiji i da su me zadesila neka srećnija vremena, nikad ne bi primetila tako nešto odmah. Verovatno bi prošli dani i nedelje dok bi tako nešto primetila. Nikad nisam obraćala pažnju na sitnice i uvek sam radije crtala po prašini nego da je obrišem sa polica ali eto sad, nestala slika, juče je bila tu i sad je nema. Pored kompa, para, kartica, nakita ko bi uzeo sliku moje mame? Na kraju sam rekla Jeleni da ne mogu da nađem sliku. Skočila je kao oparena i doletela u moju sobu i kad smo opet prevrnule sve stvari o sobi našle smo sliku koja je skliznula u donji deo stolića.
Mislila sam da ne stižem ni da mislim o njoj. Prljavi kapitalizam je lagano počeo da me izjeda a kad se otrgnem  njegovim kandžama, samo želim da izađem negde sa ljudima, da ćaskam da se smejem... ali opet, tu je negde ona uvek, u onom delu mozga koji uvek tera suze na moje oči. Pre neko veče sam izašla sa Milošem i Nerminom, čisto na kafu, ćaskanje i posle smo otišli kod njih u stan da gledamo film. Nermin je otišao u sobu da zove mamu, da proćaska sa njom. Miloš je rekao da skoro ne razgovara sa svojom mamom, kaže da nemaju o čemu da pričaju, samo neke klasične stvari. Šta bi ja dala za 5 minuta razgovora sa mojom mamom... makar o tako, klasičnim stvarima, samo da joj slušam glas, da se smejemo, da priča bilo šta, da mi objašnjava integrale preko telefona i da mi kaže "Ne brini Mikica, glup si ti, na mamu, naučićeš ti to. Prvih 5, 6 godina je najteže, posle sve ide lako". Kako sam se uvek smejala na tu rečenicu, kako mi je uvek bila smešna ta doza ironije u toj rečenici, kako je ona to izgovarala kao da je ... sve na svetu ravno... i da ne treba da brinem ni o čemu. Posle te njene rečenice uvek sam se osećala kao da je sve na svetu ravno, kao da ne treba ni o čemu da brinem, pošto je ona uvek bila tu i uvek sam verovala svemu što ona kaže. Danas, kad sama sebi izgovaram tu rečenicu, nasmejem se toj dozi ironije ali nije dalje više ravno... zato što nje nema...
Razgovarajte sa svojim majkama, makar o cveću i proleću i kafama sa komšinicama. Jednog dana, a nadam se da taj dan neće skoro doći nikome od vas koji čitate ovo, ta ćaskanja će zamenuti gorke suze i njen glas će polako iščeznuti iz vašeg sećanja... a koliko to zna da zaboli... beskrajno. 

Kafa, caskanje i torta od malina

Odkad sam počela da radim retko imam priliku da ćaskam sa ljudima iz Srbije. To mi posebno teško pada što stižem samo jednom nedeljno da ćaskam sa tetom. Kako je granulo proleće dala se u krečenje, sređivanje bašte, pa jagode, pa maline, pa okopaj ovo pa sredi ono i svako popodne posle posla dok je dan ona je na bašti a kad padne mrak u Srbiji, Marina je odavno u zemlji snova koja je udaljena 6 sati razlike od tetine zemlje zvane "sad ću da gledam dnevnik". Pored redovne konverzacije nedeljom posle ručka a u moje predvečerje, teta i ja smo zbog silnih obaveza preko nedelje našle savršen termin koji nazivamo "jutarnja kafa". S obzirom da moja teta zna da bi ja radije umrla nego da skinem pižamu vikendom (sem ako nisam primorana da ustajem iz kreveta i da pomerim svoj radius kretanja više nego što mi je dužina stana) i da spavam do podne a kad ustanem moram da jedem, taman pijem kafu oko 2 sata popodne kad se teta budi i kuva svoju jutarnju kaficu.
E sad, od kad sam došla u Maleziju, nisam imala internet 2 meseca u stanu i sada kad su mi ga konačno instalirali, teta i ja smo konačno mogle da popijemo našu jutarnju kaficu. U nedelju sam ustala u isto vreme kad i teta, doduše svako u svojoj vremenskoj zoni, i dok sam se ja rasanila ona je već pristavila ručak i skuvala kaficu. Bem li ga, buran noćni život, vratila sam se cirka u 6.
Otprilike da teta i ja ne razmenjujemo neke velike mudrosti niti razglabamo o političkoj situaciji u svetu, jednostavno ćaskamo. O krečenju, o cveću, o bašti, o Vladi, o teči, o Dudi, o komšijama, o Lajki i Belindi (DODŽ-ovi), o mom poslu, o njenom poslu, o tome koga je srela, ko je pitao za mene, ko me je pozdravio, šta se dešava po Kikindi, ko se udo, razveo, porodio, umro... Sve neke tako male i nebitne stvari ali svi vi koji ste daleko negde od kuće znate koliko te male stvari znače. Verovatno i da sam kući, posle napornog dana i naporne nedelje, ni ne želim da slušam bilo šta drugo nego o tome kako cveće raste po mojoj bašti, po tetinoj bašti, kako su jagode već prošle, kako maline pupe i kako će ih biti gomila za moj rođendan. Te neke stvari opuštaju mozak, odmaraju dušu... a onda, tamo negde duboko... počinju da peku...

Jebo sad 1000 dinara

Pre nekog vremena, čuvena Jeja je iz svoje čuvene biblioteke izvadila jednu malu prašnjavu knjižicu i rekla mi da je pročitam. Jejin ceo stan je ličio na biblioteku i svaki bi proveo bar 30 minuta svog vremena u njoj izvlačeći sa polica ono što ih najviše interesuje. Ja sam uvek bila u delu sa dečijim knjigama i uvek bi grabila nešto što ne zamara suviše moj mozak i nešto što mogu da čitam pred spavanje. Naravno, uvek bi pročitala nešto što mi ljudi preporuče ali moj ukus za knjige se nije mrdnuo dalje od 5 prijatelja. U poslednje vreme sve češće nalazim da sve knjige isto pišu, da se sve teme po knjigama vrte oko istih stvari samo da neko vrlo vešto koristi spinner i radi premetačine u rečenicama. Retko se pojavi knjiga koju ja progutam bez da je pustim iz ruke. To je otprilike moj najveći problem. Ako je knjiga dobra, ja ću je pojesti za nekoliko sati pa makar ne spavala. Ako zaspim uz knjigu, znači da je više nikad neću ni pogledati.
Nego, da se mi vratimo na Jeju i njenu biblioteku. Bilo je tu svega... od kulinarstva do moderne psihologije, raznih rečnika, naučnih knjiga pa čak i primerak Kurana odakle se odlično mogao učiti arapski jezik i primerak Biblije iz koje se nije baš mnogo moglo naučiti. Dečije knjige, romani, beletristika, poneki davno izgubljeni CD ili DVD... sve je to pravilo jednu jako veliku zbrku i skupljalo jako puno prašine i ne znam kojim čudom, Jeja je svakog trena znala gde je koja knjiga. Samo bi skočila dohvatila je sa tamo neke police i nikad nije vraćala knjige na isto mesto. Uvek je znala ko je pozajmio koju knjigu, gde je sad taj neko i kad će da je vrati.
Tako je u moj život ušao Boris Dežulović. Nikad ranije nisam čula za njega, niti pročitala nešto što je on pisao dok u moje ruke nije upala ta mala knjižica koju sam tu noć zauvek progutala. Mnogi moji prijatelji su čak i godinama kasnije slušali o toj jednoj knjižici, iako sam u međuvremenu čitala ko zna šta i ko zna koliko. S vremena na vreme bacim pogled na b92 na sekciju koja se zove Moj Ugao. Iako nisam dobro povezana sa politikom i trenutnim stanjem u državama bivše Jugoslavije, njegovi tekstovi me uvek oraspolože i uvek nasmeju. Čovek prkosi svemu i svima, inati se, piše o stvarima o kojima mnogi novinari ni ne pomišljaju da pišu. Ima neki poseban smisao za humor i poseban dodir kad piše tako da njegove tekstove mogu da čitam ponovo i ponovo... kao i knjigu.
Pre nekog vremena sam počela da razmišljam o tome gde mi je knjiga. Ja, za razliku od Jeje baš i ne znam gde su mi sve knjige. Eto, već dve godine ne znam kome sam dala LP India a trenutno pokušavam da se setim gde mi je "Jebo sad 1000 dinara" koju je moja draga Ana pažljivo donela iz Sarajeva, s obzirom da nisam mogla da je nađem u beogradskim knjižarama. Pošteni nalazač neka mi je pošalje. Znam da će poštarina biti 1000 dinara, al, jebo sad 1000 dinara :)

eto... preporučujem, po ko zna koji put :)

Odliv mozgova iz Srbije

Prelazim tako po profilima svojih drugara na facebook-u, a imam ih fala Bogu po celom svetu i svuda naokolo ali im ih dosta po Srbiji. Taman se setim da pitam Aleksandru nešto oko programiranja kad njoj piše na profilu Current city: Bonn, Germany. Shvatim da se Vladi nisam javila 100 godina kad njegov trenutni grad Hamburg, Germany, Tanja u Barsi, Bojana je vec poodavno u Australiji, Vlada isto, mislim da je odvukao i svog brata Željka. Laki je u Brazilu, vratio se na mesec dana nazad u Srbiju ali već ima povratnu kartu za nazad, Sloba je dobio posao kod Italijana pa luta po svetu, Benko odavno radi za Britance, Jelena isto, Nikola je zapalio u Kinu, Ninu je ljubav odvela u Sloveniju, Natašu u Portugal, Aleksandar je u Singapuru, Aleksandra u Bangkoku,

Sinče radi za Rumune, čak i moj teča sa svojih 30 godina radnog iskustva je morao da ode i da krene da radi za Crnogorce (moliću lepo, ipak je to druga država). Jeja je u Bristolu, koliko znam Iva se pakuje za Škotsku, Vanja je u Danskoj, Jovana u Nemačkoj, Nikola i Bane rade na brodu, Sandra je otišla za UK čim je diplomirala, Rista i Iva su zapalili za San Diego, Piki je u Sietlu, Miki u Beču, Aleksandar odavno traži posao na Blistoku, Vlada traži posao bilo gde, Jovan mi je rekao da se misli da se i on pakuje za Kinu iako je on jedan od najtežih slučajeva one vrste "Ja ostajem ovde!".


Doduše, ima jako puno onih koji ne žele da odu, da li zbog porodice ili zbog društva ali činjenica je da se od odlivu mozgova iz Srbije jako puno priča. Slatko sam se nasmejala kad sam pročitala negde da će odliv mozgova iz Srbije prestati onda kada svi odu... a to će biti uskoro kako smo krenuli.

Jednog dana kad odem kući na odmor, neću nikoga zateći tamo sem nekih meni nebitnih ljudi. Svi će negde u nekoj dalekoj zemlji graditi svoje brilijantne karijere i dokazivati se pred nekim drugim ljudima i graditi stabilnije stubove nečije tuđe ekonomije. Gledam, mladi bračni par iz moje firme je sebi kupio stan posle 5 godina rada. Lepo predgrađe Kuala Lumpura koje se razvija, nešto kao blokovi u Novom Beogradu. Roditelji su im u Kini, siromašni, nisu im ništa pomogli. Jedna moja bivša koleginica je kupila kuću u Sremčici (!!!!) posle 15 godina rada i sad je pod konstantnim pritiskom da ne izgubi posao pošto je podigla kredit za tu kuću i pozajmila tu i tamo.

S jedne strane mi je žao, Srbija nas je školovala, bar za sebe kažem. Ja sam sve vreme studiranja bila na budžetu države i školovala se za sitne pare. Većina mojih prijatelja isto tako. Samo sam kupovala knjige, sveske i plaćala sitno prijave ispita. Ovi u Beogradu nisu ni plaćali prijave ispita. Živela sam ko bubreg u loju za vreme faksa, dve godine sam živela u studenstkom domu gde je stanarina bila 10eura mesečno, primala studentski kredit, završila dobar fakultet, radila sve i svašta, uživala u toku studija i onda je došlo vreme da se zaposlim. Skoro 8 meseci su trajale moje šetnje po raznim firmama i po raznim ragovorima za posao. Testiranja su bila od debilskog nivoa do nivoa doktora nauka, razgovori za posao takođe. Posle tih 8 meseci sam dobila posao bez ikakvih veza i vezica, dobila sam platu sa kojom sam mogla dupe da obrišem ali sam uspevala tu i tamo nešto da sačuvam, ne pitajte kako... i odlučila sam da odem.

Stipendija u Indoneziji je izgledala kao savršena prilika za tako nešto. Ne, nisam planirala da odem tako daleko, mislila sam najdalje do Emirata ili Katara ali eto, zadesio se taj daleki istok. Daleko je, zajebano je, možda neću ostati ovde, ko zna gde će me život odneti, možda nazad kući ali šanse za to su jako jako male. Svi mi volimo noćni život Beograda, volimo planine, reke i jezera Srbije, volimo Petrovaradinsku tvrđavu i vojvođanske salaše, svi mi imamo prijatelje sa kojima volimo da provodimo vreme, da se zezamo i ćaskamo ali u današnje vreme treba ti gomila para za noćni život a da ne pričam o putovanjima i zezanju... u Srbiji, retki su ti srećnici što mogu to sebi da priušte koliko god žele i kad god žele. Sve ostale će izgleda opet da pojede mrak.

Čini mi se da će Balašević ponovo da zapeva onu svoju...i šta na kraju bidne, putnici za Sidnej, izlaz taj i taj...

The Royal Wedding - stupid screw up world of journalists!

Long time ago in a Kingdom Far Far Away there lived a beautiful Prince. His Mother was very very beautiful Princess and everybody loved her. She was nice, kind, she was going around, doing charity work, smiling at everybody, traveling around the world. She was not really fond of her husband, the future King, so they got divorced after few years of terrible marriage. She was still spending time with her sons, the beautiful Prince and less beautiful one and she was still everyone's favorite Princess. And everything was perfect in that country until the evil hunters killed the princess mother. Yes, Prince was sad, he cried for days and bellowed Princess Mother came into the legend and stayed there until today. Oh, yes, this is not one of those enchanted Princess stories but more realistic view of how stupid journalists make lousy conclusions.


So the years went by and Prince met this wonderful Girl on his university party and after years of relationship they decided to get married. That wasn't a small deal, she was going to become a Princess and everybody around the globe were so happy to see this wedding and to be part of it. Many people from all around the world went to Kingdom of Far Far Away to see this beautiful wedding and the 23 million who couldn't go watched it live on TV. Oh yes, it was a beautiful wedding, the bride was just gorgeous, the groom was wearing beautiful uniform even he wasn't beautiful anymore. When he was a little boy I knew at least 10 girls in my surrounding area who were completely in love with beautiful Prince and I was also one of them. We were all dreaming about the big Royal wedding and hoping that one day, maybe, just maybe we will be the one saying "yes" to the beautiful Prince. Now, being older, he got his father's face marks and almost all of his mother beauty vanished from him. Probably that is one of the reasons why I quit dreaming about the big wedding and probably, since I got older too, I stopped dreaming.

So, the lucky girl, I can call her lucky, was just beautiful at the wedding but all the time news papers were comparing her to the Princess Mother, like she is some bad copy and the legend should not be removed from its pedestal. Even before the weeding she was compared all the time by journalists all around the world and everyone wanted to say that she is not worthy to be a Princess, since she is not as much of a Royal blood and that she will never be like the Princess Mother and all I was reading in newspapers were stupid conclusions to something which is old, disappeared, gone... So what if she is different than Princess Mother?! She shouldn't be like Princess Mother. That girl has a personality of her own, she has style, class, brains of her own, great smile, she is not stupid, she knows what does that mean to be a Princess and she did not married beautiful Prince to be a copy of his late Mother. No, I don't know her, I'm not her best friend to keep her back but I like her face and her style more than Princess Mother and I know she is going to be quite refreshment in Royal Family of Kingdom Far Far Away. She is something new and I hope one day she will overgrown the legend and be herself in the eyes of stupid old journalists who forget about hungry children of Africa and the wars going around the world but cannot forget that Princess Mother died in 1997, fucking 14 years ago! No, the Princess Mother should not be forgotten, but maybe she should be put on a side so that the new Royal couple starts enjoying their future life without shadow of late Princess Mother on their marriage and without stupid conclusions of newspaper world.

So, my dear William, somewhere deep deep inside I'm sorry that we didn't meet and that maybe, just maybe that could be my wedding but I know that you got yourself a right girl. Kate will rock your world, she probably was doing that already! :)