Aleksa
Београд је ту где је и био, проширио се и изградио се али дух је више-мање остао исти, то добро. Београђани су увек умели да се међу првим становницима планете ухвате у коштац са "духом времена". Некима никада није био јасан "дух времена", али они који би га препознали су сматрам већина, само која не зна тачно шта да ради са "духом времена", који осећа.
Kako se živi u jednom Megalopolisa? Raznoliko se živi a postoje megalopolisi i Megalopolisi. Svakako jako puno ljudi na malom prostoru.
Aleksa živi u Beogradu. Beograd postaje Megalopolis. Doselio se ovde pre tri godine, došao je iz Trebinja. Zaposlio se i samac je, iznajmljuje stan, nema devojku, nema prijatelja a živi povučeno i tiho. Sasvim neprimetan za komšiluk i radno okruženje, on posmatra posmatra ljude oko sebe i nešto traži, šta traži ne zna jasno ni sam. U Boga ne veruje. Misli da posle smrti, nema ničega, crnica i to je to... On je mlad čovek, ima dvadesetidevet godina, ali usled nekakve učaurenosti, pomalo okrutnog detinjstva, on nije bio sklon da sebe "duhovno" potstiče. Da smo ga tada pitali, nasmejao bi se i rekao da duša ne postoji. On je bio od onih ljudi koji ne razmišljaju puno, već je od onih koji prvo moraju da dožive i okuse stvarnost, da je stavljaju pod znak pitanja, da analiziraju, a u isto vreme su to ljudi koji vole puno da maštaju ali toliko i tako maštaju da daleko odlutaju, da im neki put misli liče na snolike obake.
u to ljudi koji vole puno da maštaju ali toliko i tako maštaju da daleko odlutaju, da im neki put misli liče na snolike obake.
Aleksa je izašao da prošeta. Bila je nedelja. Slobodan dan. Aleksa je otišao do Košnjačke šume. On sam, do sada tamo nije bio, tako da je nedeljno posle podne, odlučio da provede tako što neće "juriti" fudbal na tv-u, već će prošetati.
Bilo je oko 5:00 h kada je krenuo. Autobus je brzo išao, našao se u Košutnjačkom parku za malo više od pola sata. Za tih pola sata, ako pojmimo vreme kako ga pojmimo, se dogodilo nešto što Aleksa tada nikako dugo vremena nije znao da objasni. Ali to nešto je jako uticalo na Aleksinu percepciju i kasnije na njegov život.
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| "Aleksa" (kratka priča) Sebastian Sava Gor |
Izašao je iz autobusa i tu se "prsa u prsa", sudario sa devojkom, koju je "on sebi garantuje", sanjao preksinoć, ni manje ni više - već tako. On je nastavio da hoda ka takozvanoj "Trim stazi" sa potpuno iluzornim i smušenim mislima u sebi. Video je nju u snu, video je kako je bila na toj zabavi i kako joj je tu neko nešto stavio u piće... Zatim je pomislio i na psa koga je sanjao i tada, samo što pomisli na psa on ga i ugleda. Isti pas se kretao na stazi, išao je ravno i nije se kretao ka njemu, ali taj pogled...ta njuška, velika crna doga, njena sjajna dlaka se presijavala na Suncu, dok je iza psa išao i njegov vlasnik. Aleksa se prenerazi. Nikako ovo nije očekivao. Brzo je mislio: "...Sanjam li ja ovo?! Budi se! Da nisam zaspao u autobusu?! Beži od onog psa... nemoguće... o čemu se radi? Ima li ovde negde česme?!" - Zaobišao je dogu i presekao je "Trim stazu". Našao se na sred livade gde se ljudi odmaraju i deca trče na sve strane. Već potpuno razočaran u dosadašnje "iskustvo sa parkom", Aleksa ništa od toga nije video. On požuri da nestane negde i da se sakrije dublje u šumi, ali tada mu pogled privuče lep prizor. Livada zelena, hrast i devojka koja čita knjigu, naslonjena na hrast. Aleksa sa se kao hipnotisan poče kretati ka devojci, nije je dobro video ali nešto je nešto osećao. Kada je prišao bliže i kada su se devojčine crte lica uobličile, u njegovom oku, on se ponovo sablazni. Ovog puta se i malo uplaši. Ista devojka. Ponovo ista devojka, mlada brineta, oko 28 godina, jako lepa, krupnih kestenjastih očiju, punačkih usana i uskog lica, sedela je na nekom jastučiću i mirno je čitala. To je bila ona. Aleksa se brzo okrete i maltene počne trčati. Toliko je ubrzao hod da se zadihao i nije gledao gde ide i kojim se to vijugavim stazicama kreće. Našao se tamo gde je i želeo. U sred šume okružen velikim stablima raznoraznog drveća. Uskoro će sumrak i u šumi će se jako slabo videti. Nalazio se na uskoj stazi, zaključio je po tragovima guma da tu da vole da prolaze biciklisti. Izvadio je mobilni telefon, bilo je 6:30 h, zaključio je da bi mogao da se vrati.
Nije sebi znao kako da objasni ono što mu se dogodilo: "...Možda sam sve samo umislio. Možda mi se devojka iz sna toliko urezala u pamćenje, da se uticaj tog sna tako odrazio na stvarnost, ali opet meni se ovako nešto nikada nije dogodilo...." Aleksa je hodao i nije primetio da je krenuo na suprotnu stranu. Sada je išao ka Topčiderskom groblju, da bi se sa te strane, približio Miloševom konaku, ali se potpuno udaljio od sportskog centra i šetačkih zona.
Nalazio u poprilično gustoj šumi. Nebo je počelo da poprima tamno plavu boju, jedan ljubičasti krak svetlosti osvetli Aleksu: "...zalutao sam... strašno, prosto ne mogu da verujem..." - u tom trenutku Aleksa začu oštar glas, čuo je nekoga kako urla: "... Beži!!! Beži bre'..marš!!! Čuo je i pse. Aleksa se uplašio, ali on ipak odluči da pomogne čoveku koga je čuo. Uz put on vide debelu granu, malo dužu od bejzbol palice i ponese je sa sobom. Kada se približio izvoru zvuka video je i svetlo.
- Vatrica. Neko je zapalio vatricu. - igovori Aleksa naglas. On se približavao sceni koju će dobro zapamtiti. Kada je stigao blizu i nadomak vatre, mogao je jasno da vidi šta se nalazilo ispred njega. Video je staru, klošarsku, kartonsko-drvenu straćeru i ispred zapaljenu malu vatru. Oko vatre, prvo nije video nikoga, a onda je čuo muški glas: "... Hajde, Laki, Mićko... Azra... hajde...", ugledao je mladog, neobrijanog i zapuštenog čoveka, klošara, koji hoda ka vatri. Pratila su ga tri velika, rundava divlja psa: "... Sedi, sedi... ajde pusti onu budalu... ajde sedi..." - obraćao se psima. A onda se začu glas iz straćarice:
- Ko je to bio?! - Aleksa je čuo ženski glas.
- Ma ona budala, hoće knjigu da mu vratim...
- Pa' jesi mu vratio?
- Jesam, jebo ga Marks!
- Šta je u ovo doba došao?
- Ma jebo ga ja, zato što je lud, zato je došao, mora da nosi "Kapital" nekom drugu, obećao, nemam pojma... Hajde dođi da pijemo čaj...
Kada je devojka izašla Aleksa je imao šta da vidi. Devojka je bila naga, gola do gole kože. Aleksa nije verovao rođenim očima. To je opet bila ona! ! Devojka iz sna... ona priđe momku pored vatre, uze neko ćebe sa grane, ogrnu se njime i sede pored njega.
Aleksa se momentalno okrenuo i pokušao da što tiše, nestane sa lica mesta. Kada je zamakao, ponovo je počeo da trči. U jednom trenutku se sapleo i pao. Dobro je pao ali se nije povredio, malo je odrao lice. Nastavio je brzo da hoda, osvetljavao je sebi put lampom mobilnog telefona ali baterija nije dugo izdržala, našao se u potpunom mraku. Ipak, činilo mu se da se sada kreće dobrim smerom: "...Šta mi je ovo trebalo! Začarana šuma! Moram što pre da izađem odavde...", sada je Aleksa već ugledao prva svetla sportskog centra i automobila koji su se kretali kroz neke delove šume.
Nasatvio je da hoda i da brzo misli: "... to je to, uh, ta devojka... ja ne znam... da li su ovo bile halucinacije, tri puta sam je video i onaj pas... to je nemoguće! Šta mi se ovo dogodi...."
Aleksa živi kao što je živeo i ranije. Sam nije puno zadovoljan kvalitetom svog ličnog života ali se sa tim pomirio. Njegova duhovna ravnodušnost mu nije dozvoljavala da se mnogo pokrene Počeo je malo drugačije da razmišlja kada mu se ponovo dogodio slučaj, posle dužeg vremena, da je ponovo video devojku koju je sanjao. Ovog puta video ju je na najobičnijem mestu, na pijaci, ali ovog puta ona je bila monahinja i izgledala je dosta starije. Tada se Aleksa možda i najviše uplašio. Otišao je i kod doktora, gde je ustanovljeno da je potpuno psihički zdrav.
Aleksa je od tada počeo intenzivno da se interesuje za duhovne teme, svašta je gledao i pročitao. Dosta je maštario, postavljao je sebi najrazličitija pitanja, polako je počeo da razmišlja i o "nostranom". Aleksa za sebe ne bi mogao da kaže da ne veruje ni u šta.
Maštarije za maštarije, smatram da nema većeg užitka od užitka u trezvenosti i bistrini čiste misli.
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Aleksa će još dugo razmišljati i razmišljati.
Kada bude napunio 40-godina on će želeti da se vrati u svoj rodni grad. Sada je i tamo dobio dobru priliku za posao.
Voleo je taj grad, u kojem su mu mirisale sve ulice, svaki sokak, na davne uspomene. Tek tu je Aleksa živnuo i nekako se slobodnije osećao.
Možda pogađate da je ponovo sreo nju. Ovog puta joj je prišao. Bila je ista kao u snu. Ista. Nije verovao, drhtao je čitavim telom kada joj je prišao i rekao: "Zdravo..." - Odgovorila je nežno: "Zdravo..." Dok su zajedno počeli da hodaju, koraci su im bili usklađeni, ali u vazduhu se osećala tiha napetost. Svaki put kad bi pogledao u njenom pravcu, primećivao bi sitne detalje, senke u njenim očima, crtu zabrinutosti u načinu na koji je grickala usnu. Sve ono što je bilo delikatno ljudsko u njoj sada je rušilo njegove ideale, kao da se ona sama borila da izađe iz okvira koji joj je namenio u mislima. Aleksa se osetio pomalo izgubljeno. U njoj nije bilo mistike, nije bilo te nedokučive sile koja bi ga „vukla“ dalje u maštu - samo tišina koja je pratila svaki njihov korak. Ali ona je bila tu, blizu njega, istinita. U tom momentu, njegov svet iluzija počeo je da bledi, i pred njim je ostala osoba sa svim svojim nesavršenostima.
- Drago mi je što smo se sreli... rekla je na kraju, zastavši na trenutak ispod ulične svetiljke. Svetlost je otkrila njene blage bore smejalice i iskrenost u očima, oči koje nisu skrivale ništa osim prisutnosti.
- I meni. Rekao je to osećajući blagu toplinu u grudima. Aleksa je shvatio da je uvek težio nečemu nedostižnom, ali sada je bio u miru s jednostavnošću ovog susreta – trenutak kada iluzije nestanu, a stvarnost, nesavršena i direktna, ostane pred njim.
Moći će još neko vreme da je gleda kako spava, dok prvi sunčevi zraci padaju na njeno nežno lice.
Da... dočekao ju je. Ipak taj i ovaj Aleksa sada nisu više isti ljudi. Tako smatra i sam Aleksa: "...ono je mrtav čovek, ovo je sada nov i živ čovek..." Aleksa je dobio i sina. Shvatio je da treba da bude radostan čovek. Krstio je sina i krstio se sa njim. Njegova "struktura" misli i osećanja su se potpuno promenili. Njegova vizija budućnosti i sveta, sebe i svoje porodice, su potisnule njegov raniji usamljenički život. U Beogradu se za tih sedam godina, koliko je tu radio, nije nikako dobro osećao. Grad ga je pritiskao i učinio ga još asocijalnijim, nego što je to bio.
Ljudi vole da što duže imitiraju, stavljaju i skidaju maske, ne vide šta im pruža svaki novi dan.
Jedno jutro dok je šetao sa sinom, Aleksi se vratiše misli, na ono, nikada u njegovoj glavi razjašnjeno nedeljno poslepodne: "... a šta da sam se vratio i utrčao u autobus taj dan... ili onda kada je čitala knjigu... mogao sam i tada da priđem, da je nešto pitam... nisam..."
On je imao osećaj kao da se nešto mračno i turobno nadvilo nad njega tog dana, kao da mu neko šalje nekakve mračne znakove "pored puta", što ga je plašilo. Nije razumeo da to jesu bili znakovi ali ona vrsta znakova koja bi čoveka trebalo da opomene i preobrazi. On to tada tako nije razumeo. Nije razumeo da mračan duh, vlada mračnim ljudima. Ipak ljubičasti krak svetlosti, koji je pao na njegovo lice, na sumrak tog dana, značio je, da je on "obeležen i izabran", značilo je to da će se njegov život promeniti.
Da li je veri potrebna sumnja? Ne ako je vera nepokolebljivo jaka, da, ako čovek mora da u veri uzrasta, a ko od nas to ne mora.
Aleksa je napokon bio srećan. Osećao se poetično i ponosno. Shvatio je: "... Aleksa i ti si sada otac..." - ponavljao je ovu misao često u sebi.
Spontaneous Combustion: Aleksa
Belgrade is where it was, it expanded and built up, but the spirit more or less remained the same, and that's good. The people of Belgrade have always been among the first inhabitants of the planet to deal with the "spirit of the times". The "spirit of the times" was never clear to some, but I think the majority of those who would recognize it, just don't know exactly what to do with the "spirit of the times" they feel.
Aleksa lives in Belgrade. He moved here from Trebinje three years ago. Employed and single, he rents a small apartment, has no girlfriend, no close friends, and lives a quiet, withdrawn life. Invisible to his neighbors and work colleagues, he observes people around him, searching for something he can’t quite name. He doesn’t believe in God, convinced that after death there’s only darkness, nothing more. He’s twenty-nine but, due to a somewhat tough childhood and a general unwillingness to “nurture” himself spiritually, he’s not one to dwell on the soul. Had anyone asked him then, he would’ve laughed, dismissing the very idea of a soul.
Aleksa isn't the type to overthink; he first needs to experience things, to taste reality, to put it to the test, and analyze it. But he also dreams intensely, drifting into such a deep fantasy that his thoughts sometimes resemble hazy clouds.
It was a Sunday, a day off. Aleksa decided to spend it in Košutnjak Forest, somewhere he’d never been. So instead of watching football on TV, he chose to go for a walk.
Around 5:00 PM, he set out. The bus ride was quick, and he reached Košutnjak Park in just over half an hour. During that brief time—if we understand time as we think we do—something occurred that Aleksa would struggle for years to explain. But whatever it was, it deeply impacted his perception and later life.
He stepped off the bus and “ran into” a girl he could swear he’d dreamed about just two nights before. Shaken, he continued walking toward the “Trim Track,” his mind racing with scattered thoughts. He saw her in a dream, at a party, where someone had slipped something into her drink... Then he thought of the dog he’d seen in the same dream. The moment he recalled the dog, there it was—a massive black Great Dane, its shiny coat glinting in the sunlight as its owner trailed behind. Aleksa was stunned. He thought quickly: “Am I dreaming? Wake up! Did I fall asleep on the bus? Get away from that dog… This is impossible… Where’s a fountain?”
He circled around the dog and cut across the track. Lost in his own bewilderment, he was unaware of the meadow with families and children playing nearby. Frustrated, he quickly moved to disappear deeper into the woods. But then his gaze landed on a picturesque scene: a green meadow, an oak tree, and a girl reading, leaning against the tree. Mesmerized, Aleksa walked toward her, barely registering the world around him. As her face became clear, he felt his heart leap. She was the same girl—the very one he’d dreamed of. Shaken, he turned and hurriedly began to walk, then run, not caring about where he was going, just trying to put distance between himself and the unsettling déjà vu.
Soon he found himself in the thick forest, surrounded by towering trees. The dusk was falling, and the forest would soon be dark. He stood on a narrow path, marked by bicycle tracks. Taking out his phone, he saw it was 6:30 PM. Time to head back.
He tried to make sense of what had happened: “Maybe I imagined it all. Perhaps the girl from my dream just imprinted on my mind so deeply that I projected her onto reality. But nothing like this has ever happened to me…”
Unknowingly, Aleksa was moving in the opposite direction, toward Topčider Cemetery, further away from the sports center and the walking paths. As he wandered deeper into the forest, the sky took on a dark blue hue, and a sliver of purple light cast shadows across him: “I’m lost… unbelievable…”
Then he heard a loud voice, someone shouting, “Get out! Go on, get!” He heard dogs barking. Aleksa was frightened, but he decided to help whoever was yelling. He picked up a thick branch as he went, just in case. Following the sound, he saw a light.
“A fire,” Aleksa muttered aloud. As he approached the fire, he saw a ramshackle shelter made of cardboard and wood, with a small fire burning in front. At first, he didn’t see anyone, but then heard a male voice saying, “Come on, Laki, Mićko… Azra… come on…” He spotted a young, scruffy-looking man, a homeless guy, approaching the fire, followed by three large, rugged dogs. “Sit, sit… leave that idiot alone… sit,” he was saying to the dogs.
Then a woman’s voice came from the shelter:
“Who was that?”
“Just some nut, wants his book back…”
“So, did you return it?”
“Yeah, curse Marx!”
“What’s he doing here at this hour?”
“Who knows? Probably off to bring ‘Capital’ to some friend. Said he promised it. No idea… C’mon, let’s have some tea…”
When the girl stepped out, Aleksa was stunned. She was naked, completely bare. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was her again—the girl from his dream. She went over to the young man by the fire, grabbed a blanket from a nearby branch, wrapped it around herself, and sat down next to him.
Aleksa turned around instantly, trying to sneak away quietly. But once out of sight, he started running again. At one point, he tripped and fell, scraping his face. He got up and continued on, lighting his way with his phone flashlight, though the battery didn’t last long, and soon he was in total darkness. But it seemed he was now heading in the right direction: “This is ridiculous… an enchanted forest… I have to get out of here.” Finally, he saw lights from the sports center and the cars moving through parts of the forest.
As he walked, his mind raced: “That’s it… that girl… I don’t know… three times I saw her, and the dog… impossible! What just happened to me…”
Aleksa continues to live as he did before. He’s not overly content with the quality of his life but has come to accept it. His spiritual indifference keeps him from making any real changes. Yet his thinking began to shift after he saw the girl again—this time, much later, at a local market. But this time, she was a nun and looked much older. Aleksa was, perhaps, most terrified then. He even went to see a doctor, who confirmed he was perfectly sane.
Since then, Aleksa has become intensely interested in spiritual topics. He’s read and watched all sorts of things, pondering, asking himself all sorts of questions, and has begun contemplating the “unknown.” Aleksa can no longer say he doesn’t believe in anything.
Daydreams lead to more daydreams, but he believes there’s no greater pleasure than the clarity and sobriety of a pure thought.
Aleksa will continue thinking and thinking for a long time. When he turns forty, he’ll want to return to his hometown. By then, a good job opportunity will have opened up there.
He loved his hometown, where every street and alley smelled of distant memories. It was only here that Aleksa felt truly alive, a sense of freedom growing within him. Perhaps you can guess—he saw her again. This time, he approached her. She looked just as she had in the dream. The same. He couldn’t believe it, his whole body trembling as he greeted her: “Hello…”
She responded softly, “Hello…”
As they began walking together, their steps synchronized, but a quiet tension lingered in the air. Each time he glanced in her direction, Aleksa noticed subtle details—shadows in her eyes, a hint of worry in the way she bit her lip. Everything delicately human in her now shattered his idealized image of her, as if she was struggling to break free from the frame he had constructed in his mind. Aleksa felt somewhat lost. There was no mystique in her, no incomprehensible force pulling him deeper into his imagination—just a silence accompanying every step. But she was there, close to him, real. At that moment, his world of illusions began to fade, leaving only a person before him, complete with all her imperfections.
"I'm glad we met…" she finally said, pausing under a streetlamp. The light revealed gentle laugh lines and sincerity in her eyes, eyes that concealed nothing but presence.
"So am I." He said it with a warm feeling in his chest. Aleksa realized he had always pursued the unattainable, yet now he was at peace with the simplicity of this encounter—a moment when illusions disappear, leaving reality, imperfect and direct, standing before him.
For a little while longer, he would watch her sleep, as the first rays of the sun fell on her gentle face.
Yes… he had found her. Yet, this Aleksa and the one before were no longer the same people. Aleksa himself believed: "...that man is dead, this is now a new and living man…" Aleksa had gained a son. He understood that he needed to be a joyful man. He baptized his son and was baptized with him. His "structure" of thoughts and feelings had completely transformed. His vision of the future and the world, of himself and his family, had displaced his earlier solitary life. In Belgrade, during the seven years he worked there, he never felt comfortable. The city weighed on him, making him even more asocial than he had been.
People love to imitate as long as they can, to put on and take off masks, never seeing what each new day offers them.
One morning, as he walked with his son, thoughts of that unresolved Sunday afternoon returned to Aleksa: "... what if I had gone back and run to the bus that day… or that time when she was reading a book… I could have approached her then too, asked her something… I didn’t…"
He felt as if something dark and gloomy had hung over him that day, as if someone was sending him ominous signs "by the wayside," which frightened him. He didn't understand that they were signs—yet the kind that should warn and transform a person. He didn't understand it that way back then. He didn’t understand that a dark spirit rules dark people. Yet, the purple ray of light that fell on his face at dusk that day signified that he was "marked and chosen"; it meant that his life would change.
Does faith need a little doubt? No, if faith is unwaveringly strong; yes, if a person must grow in faith—and who among us does not need that?
Aleksa was finally happy. He felt poetic and proud. He understood: "... Aleksa, you are a father now…"—he often repeated this thought to himself.
A few years passed. One evening, Aleksa "saw what he shouldn’t have seen"—he saw a dog. A black Great Dane. A terrifying dog. The Dane stood there watching him, with blood-red eyes gleaming. The dog's body shimmered, this time under the moonlight. The Dane stood like a statue. Aleksa, gripped by fear, passed by the dog, trying not to look at it directly, though he kept it in the corner of his eye.
For several days, Aleksa was under a dark impression from that evening. He thought the dog was a sign of someone’s death, and that it would be his own. He was right. Forty days after the night he saw the dog, Aleksa died from a sudden heart attack.
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Predstavlja:
NOĆ SLOMLJENIH STRELA
Iz Predgovora:
"...MEGALOPOLIS III
Mister anonimus, stanovnik velegrada, ponovo medju nama – kratke priče”Noć slomljenih strela” Sebastijana Sava Gor-a
Anarhizam se danas modernizovao a urbani buntovnik konformizovao. Svetska revolucija nije uspela, ostalo nam je da sami vodimo svoje bitke a ostao nam je i andergaund (underground). Pred nama je jedan andergraund opredeljen mlađi beogradski pesnik, rok muzičar i pisac, Sebastijan Sava Gor, koji nam u ovoj svojoj seriji kratkih priča pripoveda o urbanizovanim ambijentima Megalopolisa III, megalopolisa nužnosti, za razliku od futurističko-tehnicističkog Megalopolisa I, megalopolisa želje – Metropolisa, Frica Langa (Fritz Lang, 1890-1976), nikad ne ostvarenog, i Megalopolisa II - tepih-urbanizacije iz šezdesetih godina prošlog veka koja je obećavala “posao i stan za svakog”, ali neuspešno, što se kasnije uspostavilo i kao utopija. Andergraund je ovde važan kao jedini nastavak ideja o Svetskoj /modernoj/ revoluciji, nastalih na zdravoj osnovi Spenserovog konzervativnog anarhizma (Herbert Spencer 1820 –1903) sa krilaticom: “The Man versus the State / Čovek protiv države/”, a koji se takođe nikad nije realizovao kao “naivan”. Dok su se u medjuvremenu pojavile ideje o globalizaciji sveta i društvu bez države, ovaj umetnički pravac, mada naizgled globalistički, zapravo je jedini ostao anarho-podrivački i ima za krajnji cilj da podrije sve društvene sisteme, aparature i establišmente, bilo koje vrste, pošto ih smatra za prodate i pokvarene..."
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Recension for the book - Sebastian Sava Gor: “The Night of Broken Arrows”, Belgrade, 2014, short stories about the urban man. Text is analyzing urban man today, and finds, that this short story is quite different from the urban man of Megalopolis I / Metropolis of Fritz Lang - a megalopolis of wishes/, and the urban man of Megalopolis II / massive felt-urbanization from 1960 - urbanization of disappointment/. The conclusion is that today we have Megwith cult of fun and games/ and that writer fights against that... fight for more nature and more "natural life"/ in yourself, everyday life, love.../
Free PDF - MEGALOPOLIS III Jadranka Ahlgren
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Predstavlja:
ISHOD NA NIŠANU
Iz Predgovora:
„...da je na Zemlji sve racionalno, ništa se ne bi ni događalo...“
- Fjodor Mihajlovič Dostojevski
Objektivna neracionalizacija je postala opšta pojava i u tom smislu egzistencija je ugrožena.
Tražeći, kao hodajući kroz mrak, autor uspeva da iracionalno, nadrealno, podsvesno, lično i kolektivno nesvesno, osvetli i da kroz sopstvenu prizmu, realizuje specifičnu i novu lingvističku formu, nov, literarni stil, kojim nam. predstavlja zbirku poezije, tako otvoreno slikovitu, bez poređenja, koketiranja, sa bilo kakvim
autoritetima, koja postavlja jako bitna pitanja, prvenstveno pitanja koja se tiču naše zajedničke egzistencje.
Na veoma jedinstven i snažno poetičan način, Sebastian Sava Gor uspeva da pretvari nadrealno u egzizstencijalno.
ISHOD NA NIŠANU
Cena : 880,00 RSD
Detaljne informacije o knjizi:
Autor: Sebastian Sava Gor
Žanr Poezija
Izdavač: Sebastian Sava Gor
ISBN: 9788691820510
Br. strana: 70
Povez: broširan
Jezik: Srpski
Pismo: Latinica
Format: 20cm
Datum izdavanja: 2022
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