Februar & Kapitalizam

Salve srca i crvenih nijansi u svakom budžaku grada. Onaj mali odapinje strele u svim pravcima i samo čekam da ga pronađem i u tek otvorenom, tetrapaku jogurta. Izlozi ponovo ispunjeni znakom procentam, ali sitnim slovima dole piše ,,samo za zaljubljene''. To je onaj dan u mesecu februaru kada možeš i džabe kolač da proždrneš, ako povedeš svoju drugu, neću reći bolju, polovinu. Ne, nikada neću prihvatiti tu glupost od praznika, koji je stvoren da se izmame pare za kupovinu medveda i koještarija koje su crvene boje. Ne, niste romantični ako idete na ,,dejt'' na taj izmišljeni dan. Ne, niste interesantni sa statusima u kojima čestitate taj praznik. Ne, nema ničega lepog u tome. Monopolisti trljaju ruke svake godine sve više i svaki put pridaju sve veći značaj. Prezasićnost je dovela i do mrzitelja ovog dana, čak i ako je zaljubljen. Generalizovaću i rećiću da svi ti poklon manijaci, ne kupuju ništa drugoj osobi tokom cele godine, ali naravno to nije tako. Bilo kako bilo, struje su podeljene, na one u kojima kulja bes, i na one euforične. Nešto kao Nova godina u sred februara. To je onaj dan kada sve vrišti od ljubavi. Namerno.

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February & Capitalism

Too much hearts and red coloured tones in every corner of the town. That little guy is shooting arrows  in every directions. I wait to find him in this yogurt I've just opened. Windows of shops are again filled up with that percent sign, but somewhere in the corner with it is written with small letters that discount only works for couples. That is the day in February when you can even grab a free cake if you bring your other, I won't say better, half with you. No, I'd never accept that stupid holiday, which is made up to take the money from you for fluffy bears and other reddish nonsense. No, you're not romantic if you have a date on that day. No, you're not interesting with all statuses where you greet this holiday. There is no beauty in it. All that glut made a serious number of  Valentine's haters. I'd allowed myself to generalize and say that those gift maniacs buy something for those who love only on that day. But of course it is not like that. Anyway, this day divided people on two side, those who are furious, and those who are euphoric about it. Something like New Year in the middle of the February. That is the day when everything screams from love. On purpose.

MM

image source: facebook.com

Svećice

Nisam gasila svećice skoro dvadeset godina. Ponekad poželim da ih onako sve pojedinačno popalim i oduvam punim kapacitetom pluća. Kako je krenulo, počeće da padaju sa glazure, jer ih je sve više. One svećice u obliku broja su interesantne samo za prvi rodjendan. Ono kao veliki kec na sred torte, kojeg se ni ne sećaš, nego gledaš neke sad već četvrt veka stare fotke i znaš da je bila crvene boje. Nisam ih ni ove godine gasila.
Radujem se torti i alkoholnom filu, koji je nastao mojom modifikacijom recepta, pod izgovorom ,,kore su suve''. Ali tortu ne jedem. Samo liznem varjaču dok filujem. Zovem goste da ih napijem.
Ne radujem se rođendanu, nema euforije, samo omanja panika.
To je dan u godini kada uvek pada sneg, makar prethodnog grejalo sunce i bilo 15 stepeni. Ne vredi. Uvek pada. U vidu perja, stiropora, ledenih kuglica, suv, mokar ili susnežica, on uvek pada. Pomislim ove godine neće, ali iznenadio me rodjendanski sneg ko putare u januaru.
Poneka poruka, poneki poziv, šetnja i jedno čokoladno parče, čisto da narušim pretrčane kilometre i hiljade serija po hiljadu ponavljanja nezamislivih vežbi.
Još deset minuta i 365 dana me deli do sledećeg.
Grtalica ore autoput.
I dalje pada sneg.



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Candles




I haven't blown the candles for at least twenty years. Sometimes I wish light them all up individually and blew them with full lung capacity. There are more and more of them, falling off the glaze is inevitable. Those number-shaped candles are only interesting if you are celebrating the first birthday. Something like huge number one in the middle of the cake, which you don't even remember, but you are looking some (now already 25 years old) photos, and only thing you know that it was red. I haven't  blown them this year.
I am looking forward to cake and it's alcohol filled crust, which was created by my modification of recipe with a excuse ,,the crusts are always dry". But I don't eat cake. I just lick the scoop while I am coating the crust with filling. I invite the guests to get them drunk.
I am not fuzzing about birthday, no euphoria, just a dash of panic.
It is a day of year when snow always falls, even though sun was shinning yesterday and it was 15 degrees, the snow will fall. Always falls. Like a feathers, or styrofoam, icy pellets, dry, wet or sleet it will always fall. I thought that this year won't fall, but it surprised me like the snowblowers are surprised with January snow.
Some message, some call, a walk and one chocolate slice, just to interrupt all the miles I had run and thousands repeats of unthinkable workouts I did.
Ten more minutes and 365 more days remain until i add another candle.
Snowblower plows the highway.
Snow is still falling.

MM


image source: tumblr.com