Friday, November 29, 2019
belgrade, serbia, november 29th, 2019
lo and behold. while going out for a walk
this evening at the place where me and my English bullterrier have been ordinarily
crossing the four-lane boulevard of liberty - on the other side of crosswalk there
was a ca. 13-year-old fatso the bully whose momma was pulling his arm to start moving.
but the kid did not want to listen, he planted his feet staring at us in anger while
repeatedly and rhythmically batoning a rolled up notebook against the palm of
his other hand. finally, his momma gathered enough strength to drag him away.
then we crossed over. sometimes I wish I had my vlog camera at all times.
talking about being known by
every single serb. and then I see the brown caca codes relayed to the West to my
greatest dismay. do they expect that serbia will echo sanity on my part. this land
is smart and sly to some point, to the point that I have been kept here for 16
years enslaved and family broken. sounds like a punishment to me or what else is
it.
even if the fatso the bully could
have been nerd who is revering serbian targeting culture that heralds thugs as
heroes and grants them dignity - in truth - that kid’s passionate actions are the
reflection of serbian majority. they like to kick ass and the ass they kick if
they think they can get away with it. in fact, they have been getting away with offenses since
I came here. public opinion leaders who call for and condone this lynch mob atmosphere
naturally remain in the shadows. i do not like to be the victim, especially not all of the time. therefore i send an S.O.S., help me put my mind to rest.
Tuesday, November 26, 2019
the provocator
serbia is a country where a
different opinion may mean a close call or a death sentence on the streets. the
power still lies with the remnants of the old system even though serbia is a democracy
on paper. it is also a country where if the word is spread around you can be
targeted like ‘the warriors’ in the movie - the warriors. the warriors synopsis
is fiction for the united states but unfortunately in serbia it is reality. unfortunately,
I live in the neighborhood that was populated by all kinds of associates of a one-time
one-party regime (they do not like those times to be called communist claiming
that their one-party was democracy in itself even then) that are well trained in
all kinds of provocations. although their time is going out, they still like to
act tough. that is the reason I ve been going to shop groceries at another maxi
delhaize store where the prominent members of society and non-ideological high rollers shop which is at
nearby autokomanda and I never had any problems with other shoppers there. too
bad serbia does not have more shopping chains like Auchan as maxi delhaize is the leader
here. so not too many options to chose from. and recently as the maxi clerks
started bothering and harassing me at autokomanda I stopped going there for a
while and had to drive for 15 miles for some time to another center (not maxi) where I also
had problems with the stuff as I have been wildly and broadly targeted in this ‘land.’
today I tried to test my luck
again in the maxi Delhaize store in my neighborhood – 115, vojvode stepe street
- and as a matter of course there was a
60+ year old associate of the old communist system in the line behind me who
lost no time but started acting terrible at once. he moved my cart away only to irritate, whistled,
breathed down my neck, impatiently tsk-tsked at me, jerked himself around, and as I retrieved my cart and
bowed down to put my groceries onto the counter he spat or made a spitting
noise over the back of my head so I could hear it as he was half a meter away. of
course, nobody paid any attention to him and if I tried to raise my voice or react
everybody would think that I was crazy as he provoked me in a way that it was
hardly perceived by others. I have just taken it in stoically and let it go and this post
goes out to this serb and his 'deed' for the rest of the world to know what is going around here – serbia
is the name of this place and Im not sure what is the name of their game.
Monday, November 25, 2019
the worst walk of my life; this day in B., S.
don't kick a man when he is down.
today I made a bad and wrong decision
which was to walk down knez mihajlova street in Belgrade. it is a pedestrian zone
filled with souls but for me it was like running the gauntlet through a human
corridor of extremely hostile minds. the whole city of belgrade is like an open
gulag to me as I have been officially declared the enemy of the people by the serbian
deep state’s “inquisitorial” system and the cruelest serbs are set out there to
punish you for the crimes someone invented in their mind. my serbian welcome
greeting has been coming in late in the form of sheer sadism on the streets, kicking,
punching and spitting, a living hell if I may say but completely normal for
serbia. well for one they destroyed my human dignity. they succeeded in crushing
me brutally so I do not even feel like a human being anymore. I do not even
feel shame. every year there is another blame and discovery of new “plots”
either to cover up some public affairs by blowing up a smoke around an already stigmatized
one – me. I am sure that in America they now feel they made a big mistake by sending
me overhere, but for them it is certainly much easier to let me go down the
drain than to correct anything at this point. when the towering half-baked serbs
get in your path and try to power through all you have to do is jump aside a
few moments before they reach you. you are good if they do not hit out or strike
when passing by. however, coming down knez mihajlova it is impossible to escape
laser beams that serbian hooligans readily carry as their EDC essential. the laser
will either blind or give eye burns that will last long. I still have not
figured out why they are coming in plain sight to light a cigarette in front of
me, it must be something serbian that explains it, but it certainly is not
anything well meaning. perhaps this act relays a message that I am now smoked. Serbia
is the land that no longer feels mine. I feel very much trapped here. and that’s
certain.
Friday, November 22, 2019
lynch mob atmosphere in serbia
if you ever wanted to know how it is to be under pressure of
one nation for nearly two decades ask me. all because someone pointed a finger!
the government created such a lynch
mob atmosphere that anywhere at any time anyone in this serbian society can step up to me and start trouble. it is enough if they only give you dirty
looks – it spoils your minutes, hours, days, and years. by just walking
200 yards to a center city mall this evening I got so many dirty looks and aggressive postures that I
was not sure if I was going to make it alive. all i was thinking about was - when will it happen. the attack could have been launched at any moment of that brief walk. that was how it felt. that
much about Serbian freedoms and equal opportunity for a healthy, normal,
blessed life.
recently as I was stuck in traffic
there was a streetcar driver who while doing one of his stops pantomimed
sucking a dick to me. oral sex. the only thing then that came to my mind was
that the serbian society wants to make me jealous - although there is not one
female person on the planet that I could be jealous about. i am not in love.
the serbian society is obsessed
with instilling fear and making all kinds of direct and mind provoking threats.
for example, here you need to state your full address in public service points like
the post office if you are mailing something out so if there is a line behind
you then a number of listeners will going to hear it as well. as I did just
that I overheard an immediate comment on the part of one young serb (that initially
did not look like a troublemaker to me btw) in the line of: now that’s is a
good chance to come over and break somebody (or something!) up….
almost always – serbs that do not
look too dangerous will give you a lot of unexpected trouble for all of your
money, like the serbian official who attacked me with his metal stick last year
hitting my head numerous times, while generally those that look dangerous will
be easy to deal with. I guess that is because while they were growing up in one
serbian bullying atmosphere their toughness was just an assumed act while the real
serbian psychos readily assume they are protected by their serbian connections and
the evil in them is harder to feel. if majority takes a good look at a photo of
the person who attacked me, he won’t see a frenzied monster and a nutcase or a beast.
unfortunately, no. although, if photos are compared this person reminds me of an
innocent looking serial killers like robert lee yates and john wayne gacy. the fact
is, serbian monsters are getting away with their crimes as they are helped by the
serbian high-powered attorneys, post-communist connections and the government. both the society and serbian law like
them. for me it was next to impossible to break away or escape from that attacker
as if I was a marked target or a good tool, always useful to create yet another
serbian affair – as that is the engine that drives this deep state motherfucker
every day – affairs, affairs, more affairs … and someone must have gave them
the green light to regularly go at me. go figure who that would be with enough power to turn the tables in the process....
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
blackhearted serbian thugs and invented serbian myths
nah, this entry won’t be about the notion that people in serbia are among the worst and most disrespectful drivers on the planet. as me and my English bullterrier were ordinarily crossing the four-lane boulevard of liberty today - at a crosswalk we were met by those who almost ran us over on northbound as well as southbound lanes. the impatient car drivers and a truck driver were beeping their horns at us with no intention of slowing down or stopping for the crosswalk, they just zoomed by at speed.
when I came to Serbia in 2003 there was only one myth revolving around about me. nowadays, there are at least five newly created myths, one of them being the spitting one. there are people that are running in the woods where we go for a walk and I can tell that many of those that look like they are into boxing and martial arts, also unknown and nameless people to me, will spit around when they come across us two on-site. this makes me believe that many serbian sportsmen are simple black hearted thugs. I tend to think if one is doing it, they are all capable of it. and they know it is wrong but their black heart makes them do it. I owe them nothing, there is no reason to be aggressive or rude when approaching us. so what is that all about. oddly enough, it seems as if the worms made their exit and won’t go back to a can on their own.
no country can be labeled ‘free country’ when the number of unknown people is minding your business in public. back in the united states, there was this serbian black hearted guy who hated my guts and who was married into a rich, powerful and influential Jewish American family, the in-law kinship that made him feel special and above the law so he could have done despicable things. let me paint a picture here. indeed, he picked up on something bizarre that happened to me and added to it creating a powerful myth. in other words, a strange fuck up did not turn into a hush up but rather to a stupid but crippling myth originating in the serbian community in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. originally it had to do with unpaid wages to me for outsourcing overtime work at Drexel U. during the snowstorm period when I collected enormous unpaid hours that were not okayed by the guy whose initials were T.K.. nobody ever asked me to explain anything but they simply made their mind about it. the incidence gave all the black hearts a chance to kick it and mess with me creating problems at every step of way. I called that a persecution and it never stopped. about ten years later, after he divorced his American wife this guy – the top hat black heart - comes back to Serbia where he has another pool of listeners that he can influence and these are the post-communist secret service echelons and post-communist money that rules the newfangled serbia. this influence is rather huge. the newly bred myths – the lies – are unstoppable in their might, a potential for creating havoc - again. honestly, I never realized the bigger picture until recently and what has been bothering me was the fact, I have never even thought about that person – or any other black heart - for a minute but obviously my human potential was something that he has been envying all along. I cannot explain the dire happenings here or there by any other way.
Im sure that metaphorically said I have reached the end of the internet in Serbia. I finished up the game and without an immediate support Im unable to enter any other level of successful living at this or any other point in future. all I can be is merely another tool that will divert public attention for political or other reasons at the time of need. that is the only creative thing that Serbia could get out of me, or I can again serve as the punching bag for some nervous serbian thug wreck and high roller. in order to prosper more I either must leave this place at once or require an immediate support like Custer at the LBH. a w.o.o. is short yet fleeting. and finally, my word to the wise, you cannot dream about your previous lives, you can only remember them.
Saturday, November 09, 2019
up and down Belgrade Serbia you get free saliva galore
what if 240 Bravo was available to the command on June 25th, 1876 ? ? ? and Im talking Bravo not the Gatling guns
this is how it works [in my Serbian sandboxed life] nowadays - - went to Metro zemun supermarket
yesterday; when I came back to my car there was saliva drooling down my windshield. same thing
today and I was parked in the boondocks, a place almost impossible to find. that means
- either the entire city is in the know about harassment and getting right on
it or this tactical spitting group has excellent logistics. most likely a
portable GPS tracking device was attached to my vehicle so they can locate me fast anywhere
in Serbia. most likely, their idea must have been to get to me thinking that I won’t
get over it – misjudging my sensitivity level. however, what really should bother
those that keep me here [against my will; i am so itching for one adios mother fuckers, concluding salute] is the fact that these guys’ logistics are so great - they
should at least be given the honor. on the other side of the medal, the city of Belgrade has been obsessed with the cult of Walther, a communist hero who was impossible to find - well in the movie at least. so finding
them will be a tough one. from that point of view here is the improved quote from the most famous Yugoslav communist movie of all time:
-Merkwürdig! Seit ich in Belgrad
bin, suche ich Walter und finde ihn nicht. Jetzt, wo ich gehen muss, weiß ich
wer er ist.
-Sie wissen wer Walter ist?!
Sagen Sie mir sofort seinen Namen!
-Ich werde ihn Ihnen zeigen...
Sehen Sie diese Stadt? Das ist Walter!
the new wave of serbian harassment
and persecution actually began after my previous maxi autokomanda supermarket post where someone somehow drew out that I was not the American spy (a general idea spawn throughout serbia up till now - sounded like a combination of rumor and intelligence) with probable United States credentials
and protection. the can of worms was opened again and all of a sudden i got many hyenas
on my serbian bloodtrail. now - there is a new spit on my windshield every day and it could have been worse.
at any rate, as hard as that is to believe, these days I mustered
up enough strength to complete the second work titled the last regard, which is
also the homage to Colonel Muammar Gaddafi who I believe was the Cheyenne war
chief at the Little Big Horn in one of his previous mortal appearances. the first
last regard homage [another collage] was to honor Lemmy Kilmister of Motorhead who always appealed
to me because he appeared as the reincarnation of 7th Cavalry trooper
that perhaps fought at the Little Big Horn (unsure if actually fought or may
have been on detached duty); he brings the 45°33'32.39" N -107°25'26.39" W - June 1876 vibe nevertheless, comes to think of it he might have even been the mystery white man shooting at private Thompson on his retrograde toward Reno's command accompanied by either Taylor or Campbell [the white man's Indian companion.]