One room on the Drina

Abstract

This writing was precipitated by a trip, but it had already been brewing before, interspersed with a wide variety of abstract reflections. This is how the summer passed, through a corridor of images and echoes, not without some ghosts. This text is therefore a journey within another, remaking the summer experience with fragments of conversation, images of moments lived and meditations of two long months. First of all, it is a small essay about the Slavs, about the Balkans as a model of the West. And also about religion, the Serbian uniqueness in Europe, the noise and the silence. Plus an inevitable reflection on loneliness and relationships. Too many topics? No, there is only one, but he left it to the reader to give it a name.
An essay from the “world” laboratory that is the former Yugoslavia? Of course, I exaggerate, but the apparent “exaggeration” is a fundamental gesture of thought. Without it, the signs are not captured, we do not leave the arithmetic mean, nor is the general line of a slow drift of things, often hidden, discovered. The journey ends when you finish this memory. Only then do you return. Although you never come back from a true trip, because it has turned you into what you were not.