why cannot we be friends, Serbia ?

... off meds ...

first of all serbia is such a small place that one cannot easily escape. you cannot simply move from belgrade to california and have a nice, clean, fresh start and new thwarted destiny. in serbia everything usually revolves around one city belgrade and its prisonlike atmosphere wherein you are holed up for the rest of your life with other inmates aka citizens. furthermore, since the market for anything is so tiny and narrow most serbs will prefer to see you stay down if you are down so numerous people will make sure to prevent - you do not opportunely and ambitiously rise becoming thus someone’s unwanted competition down the line. S. & N. Djokovic know it best [talking about the beginnings]. utilizing lies and machinations of all kinds the rivals create your past, your present, and your future. it all boils down to fact that in serbia you do not feel wanted, there an’t no motivational speeches, no available game plans and no team play [designed for you]. if you have it in you then you are nothing but another obstruction. others will thrive in your misfortunes to satisfy their sick egos. jealousy also lurks from everywhere. I will give you a weird example i was told by a reliable friend that allegedly does not lie; namely, some guy nicknamed Zuca who managed Yugoslav National gallery, advised him some years ago not to ever do business with me – without specifying any reason – and the funny thing is I never talked to nor shook hands with Žuća, i barely know how this bald guy looks like ... throughout years a number of other associates also advised that there are art clans in belgrade that often tell people not to work with me, although i have no clue who these clansmen might be. i was even told this by the official doctor of the French embassy in Belgrade; an art lover, Dr. S.; he also added, nobody i talked to likes you; but did not want to give any names. to sum it up, around here everybody knows you - talking about 30 plus million people in the region - and one million of them or one half percent roughly do not like you - and in turn you are familiar with none of them. that's some funny statistics. but, there is the one guy I met: one time there was this guy who still owns several galleries in belgrade and who out of blue wanted to fight me as soon as i entered his joint so i called cops. the said person [gallery owner] never spent more than a minute speaking with me and even then it was all about fighting and cursing and nothing about art. then later he spread rumors and falsely accused me of eating in his place as the reason why „he went berserk.“ so if you are planning on making any type of deployment into serbian art world be aware there are numerous other walks of life that are truly trending in here like mobsters of all kinds, street fighters, bouncers, or hooligans. up in those leagues you can push forward without any art knowledge by just being brave, that is all there is to it and what counts - next to a basic arms training to start up your career while raw physique and good fighting skills come in handy, but most importantly - the backing of the government that covers your ass will be the crucial thing necessary that will make you the untouchable outlaw champ. without it, you must be to dumb to get involved, however, dumb people can be charming - it is fair to say. luckily, i never had that sort of backing so it never crossed my mind to get involved into the „big business“ as i was never prone to experimental gambling and risk taking without fully predictable results. and now a bit smarter from the veteran's vantage point even with these smarts i cannot reason why in the world was that individual about to devour me yesterday. i am talking about Mr. Aca Vasiljevic, a former head of the yugoslav military intelligence in Slobodan Milosevic times who gave me the death stare when i passed him by nearby his new private construction site. I did not check my car camera [later i did] but cannot forget that super angry gaze and changing facial colors as i was coming closer. of course, even though he now does not have that raw discretion oozing with impunity to allegedly authorize deadly outcomes as it was allegedly possible while the precursors of the current junior regime were in power, i do not think i will be dodging bullets, bombs and other deadly stuff anytime soon for just writing an anecdote, but he gave me something to think about by being one of those i never spoke to in my lifetime either - hence wherefrom comes the intolerance?! and i sincerely wonder why cannot we be friends, go bowling on weekends - i hate having someone that perceives me as the enemy. but it is what it is, someone must have the cojones to become friends with those they dislike and i cannot make those - numerous those - that do not like me in this country and region and all over Europe, go for lazy walks [with me] in der schöne grüne wälder. as a matter of fact i cannot waste time hating anyone even though mr. V. was in charge of intelligence [agency] when a dispatch was sent to american counterparts looking for someone accused of genocide by my name which turned out to be a typing mistake, a typo [in the last name] as they call it, i have no grudge against anyone even though it was a terrible thing letting go a family life in the States. Serbia is rather a small place where everybody knows me, belgrade is a minute town in comparison to any large world metropolis, and i do not cherish anything more than friendship, family and patriotism but patriotism is gold in one healthy land where i will be supported and not hated by many, judged and backstabbed at every opportunity, it is beyond comprehension. i am probably barking up the wrong tree, they most likely won't listen and will try to shake me off [otresti budalu is the popular Serbian slang phrase that Zarko Pop allegedly uses], but something is about time. for a change. agree or disagree ... 

last minute some baffling experience: swear to goodness, less than one hour after this post was published, a blinding light beam shoots into the room and right into my face from a distance of approximately 4 to 5 or even as far as 6 kilometers away ... could this be a military grade powerful flashlight or yet another coincidence ? photo below > >>