26th of june, belgrade, around 3 o'clock PM; bus station near the main city railway station taking busses mainly to banovo brdo. long untied blond hair, several bags. face of an angel, could be. long black tights and one tennis racquet with a worn out blue overgrip sticking out from bag. reebok sneakers i think. i thought how wonderful it would be to offer her my calling card and have one game with her later. a wonderful prospective friend perspective. and then i looked around and saw at least five enemy looks on the faces of serbian bystanders. my confidence went serbian. as far as i am concerned, the looks and acts here dictate destinies. and so my life goes straight into the mother's cunt as they say in serbia, again and again (that repeats). and, then i saw her again as i was coming down banovo brdo hill several hours later around 18:30 on the same day. she was accompanied by the guy who had red and white supercombi tennis bag. i could not believe how the timing was no coincidence and perfect. i immy thought, come off at the first station and run up the hill. oh well, that's serbia the l,and of the fairies. sorry lord, missing my chances but it an't my fault.
this post is all about drumming up support to see her again /straight dummin', hope not.
They wanted to make a precedent example out of myself. And it worked fine with the likes of shitcleaners, mortuary hairdressers, and those in uniforms that are in fact those I had the most trouble with, but with an intellectual crowd it just showed what shit that country really is. I lost confidence in people when the FBI agent or whoever the fuck that was who was arresting me tore up my lawyer's calling card in front of me. That image stuck in my mind. America is the country that brags about all sorts of freedoms and other crap but what happened to me and what is happening to me just shows the kind of crap that country really is about. I used to laugh, I used to communicate to people, make jokes all of the time, instead right now I am on unnecessary defensive and my communicado life is nothing but ruined. the best i can do is blow a kiss to an unknown likeable female standing 50 feet away. someone who runs/ran america needed that.
this also means constant fear. on 30.06 as i was waiting for bbq-ed cevapcici in agropapuk's meat store near kalenic market in belgrade a meat guy took his tongs inside the backroom and possibly lubricate them with some menace. i'd rather think he dipped them into a toilet seat than anything else. what poison it could had been? this all after my serbian friend intentionally left verbal comments about the serbs in the store - he knows i strongly dislike such things in public and does them on purpose to upset me. the meat guy spent some 1/4 kilo of cayenne pepper on his cevapcici which he finally threw into a trashcan and i ate mine to some bile pains. suffice it to say, this is all america's fault. my death and anything prior to it
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