Fifteen years ago, I was standing inside the Koševo stadium in Sarajevo, singing loudly, along with the rest of the audience – on a show that was to be one of the highlights not only of my life, but of my country and U2 – too. See, these four Irishmen came and played the hell out of their instruments (and themselves, Bono lost his voice during the show) for their Bosnian fans. And I was there! Today, we in Bosnia remembered the event, including many portals and media throughout the country, which makes me content. I contributed with my own piece on Venia-Mag portal, which you can read here, and after you, hopefully, read it, you can join me and watch the entire show below – and don’t forget Bono’s piece of wisdom – fuck the past, kiss the future! ^^
… the promotion of my first book of poetry “Thanatonaut” took place in our Town Hall. It was a magnificent night for me and many poetry lovers and, quite frankly, I was blushing the whole time. My verses, raw and sincere, revealed for the first time to the world, were standing proud, carrying the unbearable lightness of being… into the light. Six months later, they are accompanied by many more, an army of words marching toward the horizons ahead – and this website that is, as of tonight, officially online.
Thanks to everyone present at the promotion, and to all those who supported my eccentric path. At the end (or, better say, the beginning) here is a link to the local news on the night (featuring some of my fave photos, though the text is only available in Bosnian):
It seems like I cannot go without mentioning Rimbaud in my posts so far. His writing reflects his young, playful nature and his remarkable thoughts on poets speak to my own, blurry visions.
“A poet makes himself a visionary through a long, boundless, and systematized disorganization of all the senses. All forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he exhausts within himself all poisons, and preserves their quintessences. Unspeakable torment, where he will need the greatest faith, a superhuman strength, where he becomes all men: the great invalid, the great criminal, the great accursed–and the Supreme Scientist! For he attains the unknown! Because he has cultivated his soul, already rich, more than anyone! He attains the unknown, and if, demented, he finally loses the understanding of his visions, he will at least have seen them! So what if he is destroyed in his ecstatic flight through things unheard of, unnameable: other horrible workers will come; they will begin at the horizons where the first one has fallen!”
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