Local Elixir for Sleep-Walkers

Shakespeare had long ago noted and described the melanconic man, who apparently had cultivated a quite unique melencholly claiming that his malancoly was not like a soldier's ambitious, in a student pretentious, in a judgje political, his claimed the man was a very specific melancholy, that is purely theatrical!

Since Shakespeare times the genetic streak has not died out, but in less words, that is a type of guy who can often be seen- but rarely heard speak. They eternally are smoking cigarettes, drinking in a public place, and are watching others. They appear self-satisfied without communication, mysterious, secretive, sensitive eccet..

But when enough smoke fills the room and their surroundings play some techno-pop-song, which they claim to dislike, a sort of geene rises out of them, the shyness gains wings, and a quite devilish possessed body starts swaying, their hands like the hands of those 8-handed Hindu gods, suddenly are everywhere, their eyes shine and seduce, they select a victim and supply her with alcholoic drinks, all the while grinding their hips like a Istanbul belly dancer.

That ZEN-tranquil fake, ever awaits a chance in which he will raise some giggling girl into the air to prove the strength of his muscles, than point out the motorcycle stationed in the car park, without ever speaking a word, as in fact he has put on the whole show in order to disguise the fact how he is not capable to talk about anything.

For all those who wish to come aboard a full package, to a well designed situation with theatrical setting, musicians,fortune tellers, for that on the Balkans there exsits a helpful social prosthetic known as the Cajka-Bar, there at the end of the night when everyone has had enough of virtue and good manners, upon entering one accelerated immediately into the 5th gear.

All night creatures gather there under the green submarine lighting, 200 miles per hour they shake, shimmy and grind to the hypnotising sounds of the cheery Serbian howls about love, lies and cheating.

I am under the impression that there exists a possibility to present ones' flat in the family house, Mercedes and to exchange them for a future spouse here, but this being a part of the black market, has made it hard to arrive at any reliable informations.

For all tourists, a walk trough the colourful gardens of such institutions may prove of interest, monster Jeeps are parked next to rusty Beatles, Yamahas next to Thomos goat shaped bikes,ancient fiats next to dashing Mercedes, cabriolets and lorries, all colours and shapes fit, and alike in the real world Ferrari salons among the cars walk sharp stilettos painfully welded on to smiling divas.

A little sack of gold coins whiteout prejudice buys fun for all, but warning to the newcomers, alike all moon walker visions, at the touch of the first ray of sun, everything disappears. After Cajka-bar the only thing left is the ride home or as it is custom to some here, one can drive in a newly formed couple to the cement factory,continuing to evade talking yet pursuing the romantic socialising, and watch with fascination how the pink light of dawn mixes with the spiraling factory smoke. --