Mona Liza iz Pariza

Pravijo, da so stvari v življenju, ki jih moramo storiti vsaj enkrat. Preplezati Kitajski Zid, začutiti topel piš vetra na vrhu egipčanskih piramid, namočiti noge v gosto Mrtvo morje, loviti odmev svojega glasu v globinah Grand Canyona, ukrasti poljub ljubezni svojega življenja na vrhu Eiffelovega stopla, plavati z delfini v kristalno čistem oceanskem zalivu ..... spisek  prikrojen različnim posameznikom pa bi lahko brez težav dopolnjevali, popravljali in obračali,  do onemoglosti ... 

                                              avtor: Marc Antoine Mathieu

Ljubitelji umetnosti, bi tako zgoraj zapisanemu šopku 'must do' stvari, zagotovo dodali tudi obisk pariškega Louvra in sladko flirtanje z Da Vincijevo Mono Lizo, česar sama žal še ne morem odkljukati s svojega seznama želja, zato pa lahko rečem, da me je 'Lizika' s svojim duhom nežno pobožala na obisku razstave, ki trenutno gostuje v ljubljanskem Kinu Šiška. Znameniti Louvre je končno osvojil tudi slovensko prestolnico in z izborom stripov petih različnih avtorjev,'pocrkljal' vse ljubitelje umetnosti, ki hrepenijo po bolj pestri, svetovljansko obarvani razstavni ponudbi. Thumbs Up Šiškarji, vsi ki si želite biti del te žlahtne umetniške zgodbe pa imate čas do 13.aprila. Potem bo namreč Mona Liza svoje stripe pospravila v malho in jo mahnila naprej!

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Raindrops falling on my scruffy hair, while my puffs and coughs are cutting the silence of the classy neighborhood ... I am playing with a thin white cigarette between my fingers, watching the smoke disappearing in the humid of a cold evening fog. 

My misty eyes catch the flag dancing in the wind above the roofs of the parliament, the symbol of our young pride. What would it say if it could talk? The cat answers from below, scratching the tires of a brand new, polished to the extreme Mercedes, that's shouting the anthem of phoniness of the upper class slaves. They sold their souls to the devil wearing the mask of a capitalism. "We are poor," the cat yawns.  I hold my breath, trying to catch a single heartbeat, a small prove of humanity among the robots around me. I  breathe in the heavy smoke of those killer sticks, I decided I can not live without. Nicotine fills up my veins, smothers the oxygen I desperately need to fight against the numbness in my legs. I don't run anymore.The world of my beliefs got too big to conquer... More raindrops hit my eyelids and force me to close them. I stay like that and then I realize, I am afraid to open my eyes."They all are..." I suddenly hear the cat again. I want to make this sassy creature leave, but I don't say anything. I just stay like that. With not being able to see, my sense of hearing becomes stronger and I hear the steps coming from the center of the Earth so loud it hurts my eardrum. Something is stomping over everything we once believed in. I am scared, but I keep my eyes closed ... 

The wind comes from around the corner, carrying the message of the generations that knew better. I let it hit my face while my eyes remain closed. The cigarette is still poisoning the air around me but I couldn't care less.We let this happen. We didn't care enough. "Open your eyes, stupid..." the cat does not give in. I do it. I open my eyes, slowly and with care like I once opened the ancient  chest in our basement. "Now what?!"I scream into the emptiness that surrounds my balcony. The echo of my anger hits me back, pushes me against the wall and whispers into my ear: "Don't become like them. Don't stop caring. Don't be satisfied with poor excuses and empty promises. Act. Change. Fight..." 

I suck on cigarette one more time ... My vision is clear and rain becomes my long lost friend. I lick it's drop off my hand, throw the cigarette from the wooden balcony, take a deep breath of hope,set my foot into the shelter of my dreams and shut the door behind me. I am not one of them. And I am proud of that.