Zvezda

As soon as the wind blows, I get an allergy. Both my nostrils are cemented. At first I get rid of them with some sprays, but then they don't help either. It all boils down to pronisone tablets, which are so nasty in the mouth that I can't even imagine what kind of havoc they create in the body.

In this radio business, it is desirable that you are not very smart, but it is important that you have a pleasant voice. In the fall, I am regularly left without a (relatively) good voice.

* * *

Aleksandar Leso Ivanović says in the song "Oblak":

"A gloomy cloud drifts across the sunny sky

mountains from the shoulder.

In the late morning, he follows his footsteps on the ground

a wide dark shadow.

And in no time everything becomes gloomy and dark

and see in the colors of the surah,

invisible someone at the window of the sky

as if he were detaining the scum.

It seems to me that every September someone arrests me. Sometimes it was because of the end of a playful and wild summer and the start of school, later because of the decisive exam period that I met unprepared, and now some time because of parting with those I love the most.

And somehow, the slit that remains when the scrotums are closed is getting thinner and thinner...

* * *

I decided to renew the fund of songs that I know by heart. And I'm having a hard time. It takes me a few days to master verses that I used to string together easily. I started, of course, from my favorite poet, Les. I recently spoke about his "Mijena" in "Karver", at the promotion of the excellent collection of poetry "Reč i tišina", by my friend Srđan Leković:

"And there was light and it was written by my eyes.

And everything had the shape of a dear figure.

And there were only two eyes:

the proximity of the woman and the distance of sight.

But the night goes on and the colors fade in the sky.

And the old picture is getting darker and darker.

And all that the eye sees now is:

the distance of the woman and the closeness of the horizon."

* * *

Just the fact that he is the middle son of Les would be enough for Montenegro to respect Božidar Bonjo Ivanović. And the fact that he is also the best Montenegrin chess player of all time should give him a special status in this country.

But today only those who are full of money have a special status.

* * *

While I was watching the Red Star - Napoli match from the top of the western stand, in which the guests were better by two spears, I thought: what a wonderful hero of our time Novak Djokovic is! In a world like this, where we are inferior in everything, from economy and democracy to culture and sports, he is faster, both mentally and physically stronger, than all the tennis players in the world, than all those on planet Earth who play this expensive, popular, white sport. He dominates, they adapt to him, everything follows him...

For many of us who have not done anything serious for our husband, the epitaph could easily read: "He was a contemporary of Novak Djokovic."

I'm exaggerating, I know, but I'm weak against Novak...

* * *

On September 18, 2018, I said goodbye forever to the "Rajko Mitić" stadium, the former European "Marakana". It's not for me anymore. It used to be twice as fast to enter the stadium, although almost twice as many spectators came. But then there were no such rigorous and multiple controls at the entrances. Crowds and jostling are the same as before, only now, it seems to me, people have less nerves and there is no fine banter, born of suffering. It's true, even in my time we couldn't wait for half time, but to stretch our legs; now I was waiting for a fifteen-minute break to sit down. I stood the whole time, like everyone else, even though I was in my numbered seat. I tried the old stunt that used to start, I shouted, as loud as I could: "Sit down!" Nobody, nothing. Everyone around me was jumping and cheering to the rhythm of the northern stand.

Neither is the western tribune what it was, nor are Zvezda and Belgrade what they were.

And as long as I'm not what I was...

* * *

On the bus from Laktaš to Banjaluka, a woman in black, getting ready to get off at the stop, invited a little girl to approach her. "Don't, aunt!" - a little voice was heard. The woman shoved some money into the little girl's hand and left. "Say hello to Boki" - said the little girl, the woman turned and waved. And I, I don't know why, tears came to my eyes. It's easy, lately, for my eyes to fill up, but they never slide down my cheeks. I don't remember when it happened.

* * *

Looking at the billboards in Laktaši, I thought that only Milorad Dodik and his party were participating in the upcoming elections in the Republic of Srpska. Judging by how similar our leaders, Mile, Aca and Milo, we really are the same people.

* * *

The new basketball season has started. Only this autumn, when it seems certain that Mornar will fight for survival in the ABA league, it became visible what a feat the small club from Bar achieved last season: it won the first title of the champion of Montenegro, alongside the best team in the region, Budućnosti , and fourth place in the ABA league, ahead of the former European champions Partizan and Cibona and the champions of that great Yugoslavia, Zadar and Olimpija.

* * *

All Bar's summer events of entertainment and culture have ended. And they all have one thing in common – they were outstanding!

At least that's what the organizers claim.

* * *

I used to know how to respond to all kinds of pranks with a "dim in a dime". Now I usually go home to sort out what I could answer. But I used to regret what I didn't say, now I regret what I say.

Maybe that's why I'm more and more pretending to be dead on small or big "wit" at my expense, like a man when he suddenly meets a bear...

* * *

In the morning, when I wake up, I first look to see if everything is in its place, and then if the eyes, ears, nose, mouth... are the same shape as last night. And so far I'm doing well.

I know, until one o'clock...