Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

few nights ago I came to a decision to

either give away packets of my books in the Nest during

the process of moving out to somebody else or to sell them as a paper waste

it was a painful but also liberating and healing decision

I know that there are people who would love to read my books

I believe that there are few of them who they would mean a lot to

I believe that my books are yet to be read and reprinted

in the name of faith I will no longer worry about them

the most of it is the first Miroslav Mandic book

three have been printed

this is the eight one

I am yet to sing out six more of them in order to write 129,600 blessings

with 129,600 blessings I would make out of this book a ball of beauty and goodness

a ball of love which is constantly circling and singing to God You and all beings

I feel more and more so that my duty is

only to write 33 blessings a day every day

just you write the next one

the rest is not in my power

it’s in my power to move tonight with Violeta Mirjana and Nebojsa who

I will see for the first time all the books on one pile and take a photo of them

warm welcome to Nebojsa to who I wish and do with these words all the best and nice in all days of his life

I should count them all

and calculate latter on how much money is there when the books

are sold for reading and how much when they are sold as a recycling paper

how

much

are

poems

when

they

are

read

how

much

are

poems

when

they

are

recycled

how long a shape lasts

when something is being transformed into something else

can mild disappearing and even milder forming be seen

for three years I was watching the sunset through the Dusk on the Bridge

the smell of the river was changing throughout the seasons

a place of a sunset would in a half of the year move almost ninety degrees

I was a bridge on the bridge

I was becoming dusk

there is 10191 blessings in the first Miroslav Mandic book

words are kissing numbers

heroic blessings

I admire people who commit suicide

from the deepest respect for the life itself

who take away their own life in order to enrich the life with the very life

with the music of decision

I hope You feel my joy now

people easier sympathise with somebody’s misfortune then

with somebody’s joy and that could be the core of all misfortunes

with

a

little

bit

of

words

I

caress

you

from

the

cerebellum

through

the

spine

to

the

heels

I’m slowly sliding over the skin of Your arm

I’m pollinating You world with friendship

frozen snow is creaking under my feet

for a healthy man this coldness is great

says to me an older man on Ada

a crow in the snow is searching for food

wind is not blowing but the cold air is circulating

I turned around and I’m going back. my face is not frozen any more

I’m in warm

holly table

happiness in my nostrils

there will be opportunity there will be

this is the opportunity

a

poem

germinates

within

you

I love the sexuality of the Earth’s marble

sea bays and coves

mudslides

slopes

desert waving down the desert sand

mountain hillsides full of white blooming fruit trees

golden wheat fields

steep mountain ranges

mild wavy hills full of vineyards

islands surrounded with ocean

peninsulas deeply immersed in the sea

slow river meandering

greatly dispersed confluences

freshness of inexhaustible sources

indescribable strength and beauty of waterfalls

snowy whiteness under which everything disappeared

fog in which nothing can be seen

mystical vastness of sexy plains

roads are carving the Earth’s marble

sniffing

sniffing the bud. vowing to the goodness of sniffing. bowing to the beauty of nostrils

fuck

it

it’s

exactly

what

it

is

fuck it I love to write fuck it

in a wagoner’s manner

grief to misery

but what is really is

a center without which there is no circling

an axis without which there is no rotation

children hands which are caressing a dog

doorpost that is bent so the door cannot close

claims that are returning like a boomerang as counter-claims

tragedy of life with the comedian life going hand in hand

a lot of times in my childhood I’ve heard that

the weather is such that there is no even a mad dog in the street

I’ve always thought that in the swearword

may a dog fuck your mother it was about a shark

(shark in Serbian is “sea dog”)

dog

what a word

ginkgo

what a tree

…as economic theory claims, financial markets are ruled

by impressions and emotions and they abhor uncertainty…

George Soros

patiently right away

right away patiently

I love statements

they are singing

sun is shining

it’s very cold

icicles are melting

they are dangerous

horses are in stables

I’m quite dozy

Innocence is the most sexual

getting old is a great opportunity

agreeing is a great challenge

observing is the first practice in self-observing

what is good for a pussy it’s good for a heart as well

what is good for a cock it’s good for a brain as well

what is good for a wagoner’s manner it’s good for all-being as well

riding ourselves over unknown landscapes of our own soul

I tripped and fell all over the snow on the asphalt

I rammed my hands

I wasn’t ashamed

it’s incredible how rockabilly always easily picks me up

as if it’s telling me it’s worth living

I immediately started to scuttle

I feel the sexiness in my stomach

I feel the sexiness of the innocent ones

I feel the grace of singing

musicians are the priests of life

what a miracle is that boogie-woogie

a symphony of the mirthful movements

poor people are rejoicing divinely

I’m alone all my life because nobody could receive my joy

joy of love that is stronger than death

my solitude is all I have to give You

s

o

l

i

t

u

d

e

o

f

g

o

d

I’m with all beings in solitude

I’m dancing and singing

I fuck and I’m fucked

I love-kiss and I’m love-kissed

my words resonate in all beings

all trees are within me

dance and sing all the trees shout to me

I embrace everything that is alone and everyone that is alone

we are dancing boogie

our bellies are skintight

all lonely ones

stones are smiling

oceans are feeling nice

sky enjoys

nothing is easier then writing a great poem

nothing is easier than love-kissing

with

extremity

of

the

road

in

the

extremity

of

the

bud

You are waiting for me my waiting

You are giving me strength

You are accepting me my acceptance

I am the union of all lives and all-life

the only fragrance of all bad and nice smells

a flower of certain kind of watermelon has a sack

with the smell of rotten fish in order to attract flies

the greatest disgust over myself I feel when somebody’s handicap bothers me

the greatest human secret is that a man should

be proud of their handicap and in that way obey God

snow is actually falling so that everything could begin smelling with cleanliness of liking

I am alone because I adore only union of all-life

I love quantities when they curl up into the fragility of the one and only

a boat is sailing – well that’s me

greatest future opens with aging

hot flushes are making nettles stronger

little birds are flying onto the boy’s hands full of seeds

tranquillity of a big dog in the arms of a homeless guy redeems man as a species

freedom is love for all beings

sense smells nicely

I would like to milk a muse

serving is on each step of the way with each step of the way

skiing must be beautiful thing but I’m not sorry

for not experiencing it together with other beautiful things

my name is I Yearn To Call You But I Won’t So That’s Just My Name

the most important thing is not teaming up

wow how important that is

epochal

tiny corner of a mouth

wonders of good creatures

old age celebrates youth of all beings

youth of ideas

youth of ideals

youth of courage

one and only youth

of the one and only bud

love lasts forever

love lasts from always

not only that love lasts from always and forever but love is actually now

fuck

love now

God now

springs

one love

God love

like sun rays many loves are shining and radiating from God

gender love

love for the continuation of species

parents’ love

marital love

friendly love

love for the profession

for the nation

for the country

love for other species

love for the Universe

love for the very love

love for unimportant things

love for the useless

love for the reasonless

love for the insouciance

love for the non-violence

love of walking

love of creating

love of singing

love for ourselves like for the life itself

love for the enemy

one of the most important loves

love for God

the most important love

I

love-kiss

you

god

you

are

writing

these

words

the most important thing is not teaming up

but living constantly in togetherness with all beings

in permanent permeation

through the breath of sense

through the goodness of words

just the interest of all beings benefits every being

towards the end of the walking around Ada we were talking about her indelicacy

about the greatest work nuns and monks are doing for us

when we parted I was slowly walking uphill through

Milosav Vlajic Street thinking about the art of refining

of calming down which is endless

I was walking over the cobble on the road and at one moment I thought

I saw that a young man who was walking down the street is greeting me

I stopped and asked him if he is actually greeting me

I was watching your lunches 

a beautiful and kind young man told me with a smile

Nemanja Radovic

twenty four year old man from Priboj

sanctity of the unknown

I rejoice You Nemanja

I rejoice You works with which I will meet up tonight as well

my works are my children

many of them I haven’t seen for a lot of years

they have changed. grown up. I’m hardly recognising

them. nevertheless I remember each and every one of them

I would love to hug and kiss with each one of them

it’s not yet time for that

I just wave at them

I constrict myself

retaining love for them

I am in the Nest for another month

I will move out before the end of March

I still don’t know where

I would love to move into new pages on my site rather soon

Zoltan I hope that You can help me in that

I yearn to talk to Zoltan about internet and computer

I would love to tighten up some things on the site a bit

just patiently

the inpatient ones who decided to be patient are the lucky ones

the rough ones who decided to be gentle are the lucky ones

a life of every being is wonderful because

there is work for lives of all beings in everyone’s life

BLESSED TRUISMS

I don’t want to have influence on anybody

I would love to in-fluence like a river with

immortality of the Bud of All Beings on every being

buy us an etymologic dictionary

let’s make a Museum of Poverty

art of transforming poverty into joy

let’s proclaim a rag greatest nobility

let’s fool around

let’s educate ourselves through water lilies

I don’t despise anything that much as university knowledge

people are crossing frozen rivers and lakes

wind has blown me away on the lake

my skin is soft after the shower

my washed hair smells nicely

beans are waiting for me

last night I was tenderly thinking of Robert Walser

even a thought of having success makes me horrified

I love-kiss You Robert

great future awaits this blessing

I am that great future of the previous blessing

that’s how it goes when it goes

I am the tenderness in Your throat

reasonless joyfulness

warmth of a lair

delayed smell of spring is already here

it will start smelling

the smell of ice will be transformed into the smell of water

touch Yourself over the belly

kiss Your brain

surrender Your heart to me

I started calling women who are helping me in cultivating the Bud Girls

like back in the days Gentle Forces or Mina’s Art or Kaja’s Enterprises

Girls are coming tonight. I would love if You were also here

You are within me

I love-kiss You Kaja and Milomir for saving

goodness in Your uterus and sperm for me as well

big swans are diving their beaks in the holes in the ice so that they can drink water

fuck

swan

is

beautiful

like

a

bud

last night I was reading William Carlos Williams

poetry is the most important thing in the world

poetry of anything

poetry of apple

poetry of a good granny who is clearing up the snow

slow snowflakes which have been falling over the sun on the lake today

power is so stupid

stupid and asexual

stupid asexual and unfree

poetry is free

spirit goes wherever it wants

poetry of a poet

a cock

poetry of a poem

a pussy

all

the

same

within

everything

is

a

poem

I lost the drawing of a Good Walker during walk

it fell out when I was taking a paper out of my pocket

poetry is the bravest tenderness

little chapel on the groins

singing verbs

prayerful scroll of the book I wrote ten years ago

another thirty one poem and thirty one day till the end of the book I am You are I

hey

strong apricot brandy

the smell of chopped wood

I haven’t heard for chopped wood for years

a word for that I’ve already forgotten

today I saw a trace of Ana’s teat that she

left on my text that was still wet from the ink

I love writing with extremities

with steps over the earth book

openness

world is a garden says William Carlos Williams

word is mystical rose

bravest singing is tender

fuck

bud

is

beautiful

like

a

poem

last night I met Iam

Iam has shown up in this book on hundred eleventh day on 21^st April 2005

for all two thousand four hundred and four days since then Iam is constantly here

in each word that I write

he walks and wanders from word to word

making a poem out of each and every one of them

Iam of mine through You I am as well

with You comes this thawing as well

icicles which are falling from the roofs

everything that is You are my Iam

every day is Iam

yes I am everything – says Iam to me

I am soft snow you are walking on right now Miroslav

that’s what I am

and only that I am

and nothing else

I am only what I am

I also am these words written in cursive with

which you Miroslav are showing that it is me who’s talking

I also am through the smell of fish in the air

through which the coming of spring can be felt

I also am this confidence which I am transforming into arch-confidence

arch-confidence with which I toast to my closest one who is writing me

wine which sings me

truth that makes my bones

freedom with which I give myself to everybody

gulp I hear in my own throat

that miracle that I am more with and through the other that I am myself

that miracle that I’m carrying on so easily

easily and mildly

thank You God

only You are Iam

I am Iam and actually only You are Iam

You are God and actually I am God

that’s what the words are saying

that’s how the singing sings

afterwards is saddest

all I’m left with is to believe my words every day

they are God’s glory

thawing of the snow

spring torrents

being same

repeating

remembering repetition

through repetition I’m the eternal beginning

sameness in all beings

goodness

is

god’s

glory

beauty of the one and only cock

ice is thawing

same even more same

more same more identical

wow

I want something

wow wow

here’s something

words sex

joining

receiving and giving

wow

I just got a wonderful idea

will I be living it

I’m already living it but I didn’t know of it

will I realise it

at this moment I don’t know

I don’t like genres

I love the one

the same

repetition

for me sex is just innocence and openness

a lullaby to God

while lovers are coming God sleeps tight

under the tree of goodness

that’s what I’m singing You about

my soul

my soul is the only one for us

to

calm

down

to

get

carried

away

to realise enthusiasm

to live it through tranquillity

and repeat all of that

repeat it constantly

praying to God only like that

love-kissing everyone just like that

every being

all beings

to

love-kiss

love-kiss

love-kiss

god

just

love-kiss

god

whenever I allow somebody or something be above me I don’t believe in God

I’m insulting Him

grass-blades my teachers

grass of a football field

everyone and each thing in the world is Miroslav Mandic novel

everyone’s name and the name of each thing in the world is Miroslav Mandic poem

everyone’s tears

sugarcanes

curves on the road

indescribable beauty of straight roads

infiniteness

I’m going away closer and closer

I’m philosophising

I’m Your money

Kafka in Your hands

music

misery of economy lies in a fact that excess is created only

by goodness love and sacrifice and economists don’t have a clue about that

I had a gentle thought of hens

I love when good thoughts start dancing through gentle thoughts

on

the

road

in

the

rose

I am a bud before the rose the same bud after the rose

I am the one who You are saying when You say I am

permeate me walking

permeate me air

thirteen young birches planted last year by the lake

air is beautiful

cold but not icy

it’s resting my brain which is saturated from watching my work for last seventeen days

reminded itself of the forgotten

got excited with many things

was thanking God for what he created through me

today in the morning I turned six basic folders on the desktop into five

getting to know yourself actually consists of working on yourself and with yourself

I’m working myself

I’m reducing myself

cold air is replaced by music

when You think of me I would love You to feel the music

the music of goodness

music of beauty

music of writing

music of creating

music of walking

it’s wonderful to live wonderful

simple

musical

to be silent

to be mellow

to be a bite of sameness in somebody’s soul

heroism on the road

with the rose of loneliness I embrace all beings

I’m

moving

those

glorious

hips

quietly inflow

quietly outflow

I would love so much

I love-kiss You my present one

dancer of the sameness

observe me approaching You

through going away

I’m closer and closer

sky is on my shoulders

sun light in my eyes

I’m surrendering to grace

grace is a pleasure of all cells and their vibrations

my legs are carrying me towards words

words towards legs

walking sentences

sentences of steps

with every word I caress You tenderly over the face

touch is a foetus of love

freshly milked blessing

the milk of words is foaming up

it rises

extremity

to extremity

wedding

words without the voice

words in the eyes

transformation

I towards the far away I

everything happens in front of the eyes

mystery

mystery of everything is that everything is good

love-kissing

love-kissing of the life itself – life of the love-kissing itself

all the words in Miroslav Mandic book are our constant love-kissing my beloved

if I’d known that I can write today’s blessings

in the same rhythm then I would have begun right away

but I don’t know that

but after all I’ve already started

there’s no return

homeless

I’m looking for a safe harbour in each blessing

I’m looking for a new strength in each following word

I’m budding to the budding

an ally to kisses

world’s soul never dies

joy in the heart never stops

homeless of the world are protecting life

loyal ones never give up

ice is going back to water

cosmic silence fulfils these words

purple blueness

I am a job of all jobs

money of all money

love of love

one and only health

insouciance underneath me – unreasonableness on top of me

grace under my head

I am the keeper of dreams

one and only dreamer of all beings

sexuality of breathing makes out of all beings innocence of any rose

rose

bow-downs are bringing up the drooped ones

through vortexes of calmness captivating singing begins

I just added to the couples the whirlpool and

whirlwind couple which I haven’t mentioned for a while

I am constant reminder to the life itself

You are breathing

eternity

oh love

how beautiful is morning – God is even more so

how beautiful is youth – God is even more so

how beautiful is middle age – God is even more so

how beautiful is old age – God is even more so

how beautiful is repetition – God is even more so

how entering excites – God excites even more so

it’s miraculous that You know me – that God knows me is even more miraculous

it’s miraculous that You are serving me – that God serves me is even more miraculous

vineyards of Taros

I’m drinking the wine of Your pain

I

am

the

mystique

of

this

mystical

poem

one should be happy

happiness is always only the happiness of all beings

everything

the

same

is

a

pussy

a

cock

is

cock

a

mega-pussy

of

the

only

mega-cock

I love-kiss You You are my only poem

tenderness

of

mortality

love-kisses

the

immortality

of

tenderness

I

only

swear

at

you

my

only

love

you

are

because

I

sing

only

you

hug

yourself

it

will

be

my

hug

I was today on the Republic Square on the demonstration

We Are the 99%. Expect Us! Don’t Allow ACTA to Come to Serbia

I am in the twenty second century in order to save the twenty first

century from the apocalypse and bring it like all centuries to the eternal life

I enjoyed the 99%

I

am

you

are

I

hundred

percent

all beings of one and only life

every being in the one and only love

I admit I love You

I admit I would fuck You

I admit – I hurt You

I admit – I admit the best through singing

through the beauty of thawing

through the careful friend who’s protecting me in order to surrender to the joy in his soul

hey world You are my dress

the daybreak of the eighth morning

yesterday in that glorious Sunday I carried on with Small Tender Tautological Works

but this time on the internet

I called the work from the XXII century for the XXI century

I sent to my female and male friends two texts

http://www.bostonreview.net/BR36.6/joshua_cohen_seth_resler_john_rawls_occupy_wall_street.php

http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2012/feb/07/we-people-how-save-european-democracy/

it’s a work from harmonisation and undertaking

sometimes I will be acting from the XXII century in order to save the

XXI century from the apocalypse bring it and like all centuries to the eternal life

yesterday in that glorious Sunday I added to my ID card marital status and children

address IN YOUR HEART

nationality LIFE

state UNIVERSE

marital status HUSBAND TO ALL BEINGS

children ALL YOUNGLINGS

religion GOD

membership ALONE FOR EVERYBODY

attribute GOD’S CHILD

profession POET ARTIST WALKER

my new ID card that I should as well as some other things put into the Autobiography on the site

yesterday in that glorious Sunday I talked also about lover

and about few others from the twenty five ones who are making me

poet

fool

gardener

beggar

walker

lover

mystic

monk

miner

philosopher

shepherd

hero

artist

runaway child-good child-boy child

dancer

performer

conceptualist-IT specialist

anarchist-economist

pacifist-activist

rebel

mathematician

musician

gigolo

husband of a transformed whore

…

the twenty five ones are reduced to the three

poet

artist

walker

three to one

poet

I yearn to add eight more to the twenty five ones

so that there are 33 of them

maybe

reasonless

insouciant

harmless

fucker of all mothers

beinger of all mothers

…

I just thought about how I will record with Photo Booth

33 minute long film about 33 of my roles and send it to 33 places

in the end in that glorious Sunday I heard

that brain radiates the most when it’s not working

Jovo Tosevski in the story about Miraculous Brain

it’s a wonderful thing that with brain which is not working since I’ve experienced that

that is when I jus am

I am everything and I am everything to everything

goodness of love

beauty of fucking

tenderness of the shoulder caresses the strength in Your spine

love serving liberates brain from unnecessary obligations

three more days of the Cultivating the Bud

I admit that during the cultivation I gained two kilos

misery

instead of eating You I was eating food

shame

here it is today as well

potatoes. carrot. leek. broccoli. oil. seasoning. bread. water

I’m not worried – I’ll lose weight

joy of all beings

yesterday it was birthday of my Fats Domino and my Johnny Cash

I celebrated him in the Days of My Life

there is something miraculous in this blessing on its own

mystery of poem

the brain of love is budding

poem of mystery

convictions based on knowledge are sad

if You are separating me from God You are separating me from Yourself

if You are separating me from her You are separating me from Yourself

if You are separating me from all beings You are separating me from Yourself

if You are separating me from Miroslav Mandic You are separating me from Yourself

if You are separating me from the Bud You are separating me from Yourself

health is the sex of the unselfish ones

Cultivating the Bud is finishing tomorrow

joint work from last night has been interrupted because of a human factor and in that way my wish

that alongside the Cultivating of the Bud comes to the Union of Life and the Exemplary Workshop was a failure

but

Cultivating the Bud is a fucking work of art

because I’ve repeated the first lesion in life

everyone calm themselves down – Jelica Aleckovic

because I’ve repeated the second lesion in life

one regret you will certainly have – Milomir Mandic

because I’ve repeated the third lesion in life

if only you Mile would be alive, even if we didn’t have anything else – Kaja Mandic

because I’ve discovered one more name of my art Join Me And All Beings

because I have behind me seventy two hours of working on the Cultivating the Bud

thank You to Violeta Jovanovic Mirjana Lukic Nebojsa Rikanovic Maja Klisinski

because I’ve discovered that for the Cultivating the Bud is needed

for an amateur six hours of work a day for a year

for a professional ten hours a day for four years

for an oblate twenty four hours a day eternally

because behind me are sixty three pages of text

that I said out or wrote about the work and works

because behind me are hundred and nine newly opened folders with photos of the works

twenty newly opened folders for the present work

that especially excites me

because I’ve found the text from 2005 with which I have begun

working on the archiving and which affirms me and which I am affirming

one man is for the one man more than all people together

archive is becoming visible

to one man

to some people

to all people

to all beings

archive is God’s

everything within the archive is created through God and Miroslav Mandic

I am the author and the owner of everything

essence of the Miroslav Mandic Archive is that I renounce my property

I’m giving it to

one man

some people

all people

all beings

archive is God’s

that’s how it is today as well

God’s glory

sorrow into a rainbow

I’m drinking a cup of instant soup

after two bananas and two apples

now out to get some air and for a walk

lurid

I was sticking labels on portfolios with the Grass

and the Moment and I was thinking about a lot of things

with all beings I’ll survive

today is the last day of the Cultivating the Bud

like yesterday today as well I will be working on my own

there is nobody

it’s important that I’m not afraid

that I am rejoicing all beings

You

God

never to give up a single being

mambo baby

maybe I don’t have the right to share the mambo baby but I am Ruth Brown

all beings of course depend only on every being

it’s easy for warriors economists owners politicians – a poet should

sing all beings and not kill a single one not pre-empt a thing and lie to nobody

I admit I don’t know what will I do

yesterday’s and today’s walking have saved me

miroslav, marko contacted me today through linked in. he says

that he could meet up with you in march… he said you should call him…

I just got the e-mail from the acquaintance of mine who is

without my knowledge or consent connecting me with unknown people. I wrote to her

a month ago I won’t be answering her. I really wish all the best to her and to Marko. to every being really

today I wanted to finish the Cultivating the Bud with solemn encompassing

that’s exactly what I’m doing

through carrying on

my body surrender to the health of all bodies

poem

of

mine

sing

the

only

poem

I’m going to arrange seven portfolios from the Rose of Wandering

what a splendour – how many defeats

2 pm

I’m just leaving to go walking

to rest my brain

to surrender with my soul

I’m outside – how great is the grace

pain in chest-back please stop

this is the moment in which I feel gratitude towards the ones who beat me up

after the gratitude also came the feeling of blessing those who have hurt me

it’s sad how everyone finds their language

– the language of their profession the language of their pain –

universal and requests that all other languages are translated to theirs

tomorrow is forty years of the Draft For a Letter

now calming down and appeasement are waiting for me

Saturday and Sunday in which I will

internally and with wine finish the Cultivating the Bud

one more job is behind me. thank you to all hands through which

the Archive went through. I wish him to finally get into the right hands

just more insouciant and braver

just creating singing out of everything

the letter to my friends which I wrote in the Red Notebook on 1^st March 1972

when I was in the army. forty years ago. a week after I got my prison sentence

there is a vast number of facts and for all sorts of

reasons a great number of facts we are not registering

I’m not capable of being honest to all the

data. some I simply haven’t heard of nor seen

should one make an effort and

see all films of the world

read all books

see all trifles

feel the geography

feel the biology

meet all people in the world

correspond with all workers

be a useful member of Yugoslavian self-managing society

have a family

feel yourself

be wise

here or there

even though I will live in twenty first century

there is no eternity till the end of my life. forty odd years

plus 20 earned – I added on 1^st June 2003 in Belgrade in the Monastery of Time

a man can be either content or discontent with himself

even though I am a bit sad at the moment I rejoice everything and my incapability too

all the accounts are mainly clear

now I am twenty two years old. I’m in the army for another year. I’ll be

twenty four and a half when I pay my dues. and then – maybe I should soot

everything that happens in the name of

progress and workers is welcomed – it feels good

communism in religion

fighting for the communism in bed

for communist syntax. fucked up innocent

Viridiana. a group of illegal ones exposed to the Edict

to have a friend who you have mutual

understanding with. you’re doing the same job and it’s not boring

until now I’ve created few obligations but my account is mainly clear

I’m quite quite tired

but not completely calm and I love so much

not to do anything that would be more than rummage

some people have tired me out. those are the people which I don’t feel anymore.

Kafka Rimbaud Baudelaire Lautreamont are not writers. the writers of their books are

the workers in printing offices and they are the people for whom lives we should have

more respect and not to take more and more from those lives for dead books. around

all of that there are certain nasty things to which I don’t want to give more importance

then they deserve. a sick man is a medical issue. Rimbaud should have

been taken by his mom into the hospital. if I am sick I’ll try to get well. half of

our love beliefs knowledge lives is based on diseases that are yet to come. what is

all that good for

one should be a bit naïve good and healthy

to Baudelaire I would probably say understand your mother she had to get married

to Rimbaud fuck the poets

to Kafka other people are sick too. I would be telling him about Kosovac Ljubica

it’s necessary to tell everybody about  Kosovac Ljubica

what would I have to talk to them about the problems. if

a man has time he should read. Beethoven frowned and went deaf

Bach was apparently normal and Dostoyevsky and Duchamp and Bozidar Mandic

modesty of a spirit

to try to give job to all the people.

to disprove the thesis that something is called kitsch

to say good afternoon. art is kitsch. fighters for avant-garde are workers

what do I want. I don’t believe in any life

I behave in uncontrollable fashion towards any way of life

I only believe in my way of life. how will it be

I don’t even know. I don’t want people dying because of me

until I say I’m staying in this place until I die nobody can hold me

responsible for my actions because I have to be spontaneous in order to love

I don’t have friends

I’m alone

goodbye my friends

as little time as possible for myself. I will behave towards you like towards

people who I haven’t seen for a long time and that’s why we are talking only a minute

time I’ve spent with you is shorter than the time I’m yet to spend in the army

and in the prison. and even before the army we didn’t know each other well and

we were constantly arguing. we didn’t understand each other. we enjoyed too little

us. there is something arty in it and I think it will always be and that’s why I’m leaving

I was so wrong

I added after several years

not at all

said to me Slavko Bogdanovic who was criticizing me the most back in the days because of this letter