another night in zagreb, serbia dreams

ivan from belgrade showed us his childhood drawings today. belgrade in the 90's must have been full of one legged daggerheads, lustlful babyzombies, bandaids that never worked, teeth and holes. lucky to take a look at someone else's kid arts. he's having a painting show tomorrow. a painter from belgrade. we might hitch out of here tomorrow. cities are full of suggestions. when one no longer needs suggestions, it's time to go. we are sleeping tonight, not last night. the place is full of people, smoke, beer, tv, radio, sex, dogs, cats, croatian words, speed. people my age here take the hardcore escaping route, no detours. growing up here, especially, can do that. we took the tram to the outskirts today and walked along the river and the road to herlich, the gypsy flee market. we got there by early sunset and the market had already ended, but what was left were piles of clothing and things, and a few other people picking through the rubble. we joined them for a few hours. wandering with the crows, quiet everybody submerged in their own reasons for being there. the sunset illuminated the bright heaps, with the perfect accent, i found a mickie mouse shirt that i liked and a few papers, notes, photographs, music scores. back to the city, stopped by a off road buffet and managed, after some gesturing and shreds of russian and english to order 'meat and potatoes', salad and beer on the side of course.

the women we are surrounded by in this appartment speak in deep voices of smoke and yelling. articulated, animated, alive in this chaos. noone really knows anything for sure in general, the point is to realize that and move one.

i don't know who is reading this, but if you are i'm glad. it's good for a person to know someone is thinking of them, even sometimes. this is a city with quiet streets, but houses full of noise. people pray at night here, and talk talk talk all through the night, every night. new people come and they talk and there is no end of beginning to anything, not to a cigarette not to a  beer for them, just keep going, food sleep? they are too young to worry. many dream of going to new york, of course. there are many old trees in the parks and the mountains cup the city from the sides. learning a new language. mind is fluid and eyes are wide open eating. we want the road soon, out of the city. cities full of desires, we look like beggars and all beggars must move along someday. many lovely people we met though, all are welcoming yet in their own wild world we are but passing shadows.

i don't know if i'm getting to abstract or dark here, but it's 2 am, and i'm just giving you the raw stuff coming out of my fingers. there are a few of you i miss painfully, i must admit. but the journey goes on, and eli, your advice is received. thank you.

ghost towns and gypsy lips

good night