they call them names / / the writing is on the wall // mene mene tekel upharsin

may be I am hated because they think I am a deserter. but no. I simply despise Yugoslav way of life because it cannot touch me. if I could travel back in time to participate in some historical events it would have been battles like LBH so I cannot be labeled a coward by default – I could always muse with mind of the warrior, however, I would  never re-enter anything related to Yugoslavia cos all of their battles were inflated garbage full of flaws and their commanders cannot be idols to someone who can smell dishonest posers and lowly maggots all around, local history included. i am referring to period as of the WW2. same reasons were halting me from participating with those that were not the same with me in spirit although i would ever be able to find that spirit with and in many other nations even groups of people. those that offer empathy, sympathy, collectiveness. why am I positive? I’ll tell you why – because of my nonexistent freedom in present day Serbia. I do not feel free and there was not any doggone reason for it. yes, I am paranoid, but there is a well founded foundation for my fears.  

a number of Yugoslavs (present day Serbs and in most cases the people personally unknown to me) hate and dog me and they cannot let go of. it goes that far that I cannot wear my favorite jeans because they find ways to attack in the open when they see me looking sharp; they simply cannot get over it. so all the time I must pick clothing that does not fit me to deescalate daily onslaught of many envious hostiles within the Serbian population.

today the plot has thickened, there was an old man (approx. 60 years old) in front of building at bulevar /boulevard/ oslobodjenja, I will post number and photo of that house later on, and as I was returning from late afternoon walk with my English bullterrier he swept dirt propelling it in our faces on purpose. holding a broom in his right arm he rotated his arm as if he was making a fast forehand movement and so each time the broom hit the ground the dirt and dust flew towards us; even as we were approaching. if they were not disrespectful and mean, his actions would be comical. I hope his other arm falls off. for this, I looked at him (a big house, it took us more than 20 seconds to pass by) trying to see how far that would go – but the only answer i came up with was - now I can understand why some Hungarians call the people around here names. and let me tell you – if I had done that to anyone – I would have felt dire consequences soon thereafter. some people here think they have the force to infringe upon your rights and your life. it makes you despise them. 

i cannot with certainty say where was the event unfolding at exactly; it was in front of one of these houses for sure, could be even the number 187 (where the flag is seen towards the far right), that building is not depicted here in full.

 

note:  i realized later it was in front of narodna stranka / national party headquarters