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Ovaj svet uporno pokushava da mi nadene ime. Najpre se smatram ljudskim bicem. Ali, eto, da pochnemo sa odgovarajucim prologom koji me predstavlja svetu. Zovem se Mladen, i nalazim sebe u definisanoj marshuti Laste, na putu Mladenovac – Beograd, konstantno nizhuci predjene kilometre i proshetane perone.
Pokushavao sam neshto da promenim. chekajuci poslednji spust najobichnije vecheri, pitao sam se: «Ovo je zaista moj najveci dar?» Ne, nisam se mirio sa tim. Moja sushtina nije povrshna, plitka, sjajno namazana. Ochima vidim, ochima sam slep. Ono shto um moj prepoznaje kao nesvakidashnje, jedne ustreptale sanjive trepavice. Ne ochi, ne nos, ne usne, obrazi. Tvorevina kozhe, zapanjujuce otkrice. Znam da postoji vishe, da postoji iznad, ispod, unutra, spolja, ispred, iza, chitav niz prepoznavanja opijajuceg instinkta koji uzimamo zdravo za gotovo. Lepotu shvatam kao neshto lichno, subjektivno, odredjeno kriterijumima, ne vida, vec oslushkivanja odjeka sklapanja kapaka. Dakle, par reda tvorevina kozhe usudilo se da odgonetne reshenje nereshive teoreme prolaznosti. Jedan treptaj, i u njemu izvezeno trajanje. Perspektive trazhe druge uglove posmatranja. Telo je samo paket za pravi sadrzhaj. Umiven saznanjem da sam pocheo da vidim prstima, ushima, usnama, srcem, zatvorio sam notes postavljenih hipoteza, ustuknuo nad njihovim nepoznavanjem prechulnog vida. Jer, ono shto vidim, nije isto kada ga chujem, opipam. Ono se rastapa u drugachije nijanse, bojeci prethodni trenutak spektrom igrarija. I niko od nas nije samo zelen, ljubichast ili beo. U nama su slojevi razlichitih proshlosti, dozhivljenih i neprozhivljenih shansi, pokretnih slika, neobuzdanih nagona. To je ono shto ide sa nama, nasha lepota, ljupkost, sve je zapakovano u isti papir, samo je ukrasna mashna drugachija, ako se usudimo da je pogledamo van ochekivanja.
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This world is insistently trying to name me. Before all that I consider myself a human being. But, let's start with appropriate prologue which represents me to the world. My name is Mladen, and I find myself defined by the Lasta's itinerary Mladenovac – Beograd, constantly stringing passed kilometres and walked platforms.
I was trying to make a difference. Waiting for the most ordinary night to come down on me, I was wondering: «Is this really my greatest gift?» I refused to believe that. My essence was not superficial, shallow and shinny. I see with my eyes, and I'm blind. What my mind recognises like something unusual, pair of fluttering, dreaming eyelashes. Not eyes, not nose, not lips, cheeks. Skin made, amazing discovery. I know that there's more, beyond, beneath, inside, outside, ahead, behind, the whole series of recognition that marvelous instinct which we take for good. In my opinion, beauty is something personal, subjective, defined not by eyesight, but by listeninig of eyelid closing. So, pair of skin made dared to find a solution of an insoluble theorem of time passing by. One blink, and within it everlasting moment of our lives. Perspective is looking for another angle. Body is just a package for the real content. Reborned with the previous facts of seeing with my fingers, ears, lips, heart, I closed the notebook of hypothesis and got scared of previous unknowing the right way of seeing. Because, what I see is not the same when I hear it, touch it. It gets dissolved in whole different shades, colouring the previous moment with spectar of puzzles. And none of us is just green, purple or white. Within us are layers of past, used and missed opportunities, moving images, wild instincts. That's something that goes with us, our beauty, grace, it's all wrapped up in same paper, only the decorative bow is different, if we dare to look beyond expectation.