Other side of the bed

All Starke, Čunga Lunga, Bronhi, Tajči in Viki krema

All Starke, Čunga Lunga, Bronhi, Tajči and Viki krema ... Do they make you feel like a child deep down inside? Congratulations! You are a member of the endangered  generation of' pionirčki'! Soon we will extinct so don't waste any more time ...Put on your old, worn out All Star sneakers, chew on Čunga Lunga with your mouth open, grab a bite of bread covered with Viki krema, glue your teeth together with a sticky Bronhi candy and sing out loud 'Hajde da ludujemo' ... Neighbors will complain and you won't be popular when new government starts to rule this little country of ours, but deep down inside you will be happy. I guarantee you that!

BLVD of dreams ...

 

Don't follow the signs to get there ... Follow your heart ...And no matter how loud the cars honk to get you off your way, no matter how winded and narrow the streets get ... One day you will get there ... You can not miss it ...It's right around the corner of your fears and doubts ... The Boulevard of dreams <3

Wanderer

I wander through my thoughts of the past day, barefoot like the tribe hunters in the middle of nowhere. My feet should hurt, since the ground is rough and covered with sharp rocks that lay around like scraps left behind my favorite broken cup. But they don't. I have her slippers on. They carry me around like ballerina shoes. I tiptoe gracefully over the wrecks of my fears, with gentle breeze in my golden hair. I can't see much, but I could swear that I feel butterflies sitting on my shoulder, keeping me company and reminding me that I should not wander much longer. She is close, not at all that far away from here, wandering through our love, sending the sun rays that help me get through another misty cloudy day. I love wandering with her, knowing she has my back, always taking care of me getting home safe. Falcons are circling above my head but I'm untouchable. One bite of me and they would choke with their own envy and greed. They know that so they keep their distance,singing their poor lonely song of hunger. I am safe... 

 

I wander through my thoughts of the past day... I'm almost home. I see her sitting in front of our love, sparkles from her eyes help me make the last few steps before I finish my wander in her arms. "Welcome home baby," she whispers into my ears, takes off my ballerina shoes and leads me into her heart. I gaze around her emotions, blinded by the strength of their embrace... "I love you," I sing the words, that are written all over my forehead. My wander is done ...

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.

Deam Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow --
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand --
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep -- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

by: Edgar Allan Poe