Uputa za državni udar


Meni država ne treba! – Ta gospodična je vrlo umišljena i bezobrazna, javlja se samo kad joj nešto zatreba, a kad meni nešto ustreba onda se pravi važna, neće ni da me čuje. Nikad mi ni žvaku nije kupila.

Ne treba meni nacija – ta aždaja s milijunima sumljivih lica uzima si za pravo da se lažno predstavlja i govori u moje ime, da fantazira i umišlja koješta, da gazi po svemu što je intimno moje (i samo moje!), a da me pri tom ništa i ne pita. Što se bolje poznajemo, to smo u sve većoj svađi!

Ne treba meni religija – taj farizejski trgovački (ako budeš dobar!) ugovor s Bogom, kojega nitko nikada nije vidio a kad govore o Njemu oko svakog zareza bi se raščerupali. Taj papirnati bog isprepleten od paragrafa, ucjena, prijetnji i straha, vrijeđa ne samo moju inteligenciju, nego i smisao ljepote, dobrote i fantazije. Ja mogu biti mnogo bolji i kad je sve oko mene u rasulu, i kad me kao nagrada za dobrotu čekaju samo krv, znoj i suze. Mogu, jer ja tako hoću, a ne zato što moram da bih otkupio udobniji smještaj kod tamo nekog svetog Petra. Ne vjerujem u Milost s šibicom u ruci, ne vjerujem u Stvoritelja koji u sumporu i ognju uništava vlastita djela, ne vjerujem u Svemogućnost koja ni prstom nije makla dok su se na Zemlji događala takva sranja koja bi i najokamenjenije srce dotakla... Moj Bog ipak ima neku Dušu - bratsku, neko Oko koje vidi tuđu suzu, neku Ruku koja diže onog što je pao, neko Uho koje čuje ljudski jecaj, neko Srce koje prašta, neku Toplinu koja topi zlu misao, koja ne pamti što je netko zamrljao jučer, a nekmo li tamo negdje u prapočetku svijeta, jer s radošću gleda u sutra, jer bez fige u džepu očekuje uvijek novo rađanje Sunca. Ako nije takav, ne treba mi, nek se goni zajedno s onim lihvarima kojima je ostavio autorska prava da mjere dobra i loša djela, da govore o jedinstvu a dijele pravovjerne od krivovjernih po mjestu rođenja i krsnom listu, da kao na pijaci kupuju i prodaju ljudske duše. Ja ću svoju dati za đaba prvom koji umije da Voli i potrošiti je do kraja, neka od nje ne ostane ništa.

Ne treba meni laž o raju – ima i boljih turističkih aranžmana od posmrtnog proputovanja kroz vječnost u režiji agencije "Moli i ne jebi", s polupansionom u Edenu i avansnim plaćanjem u 365 rata. Previše je i pola sata da čovjek shvati kako se u društvu svih tih silnih pretendenata na rajska vrata osjeća nekako loše, dosadno i banalno. Čitavu vječnost provesti zajedno s njima, zar to ne bi bila najgora moguća kazna?

Meni treba samo malo mira da od ovog ništavila kojeg zovemo Život, napišem bar poneku lijepu pjesmu, stisnem ruku prijatelju i poljubim ljude koje volim. Bit će to sasvim dosta da s ovog svijeta odem nasmijan, dobro obavljena posla, s varavom mišlju da su bar poneki trenuci imali smisla, da su bili lijepi i puni mene. Možda se ipak ljudi nekad sjete da bijaše jednom jedan, koji je bio drukčiji od svih, koji je imao muda da ih voli za đaba, koji im je darivao cijelog sebe - za ništa.



Vinko Kalinić

Antibiografski zapisi
(ulomak)




Instruction for a coup 

 

I don’t need a State! – This young Miss is very pretentious and rude, she calls in only when she needs something, and when I need something she pretends to be stuck up, she doesn’t even want to hear from me. She never even bought me a chewing gum.

I need no nation – that dragon with a million suspicious faces gives itself a right to falsely present itself and also a right to speak on my behalf, right to fantasize anything, to step on everything that is intimately mine ( and only mine!), but then, it never asks me anything. As we get to know each other better, we are more and more in deeper conflict!

I need no religion – this Pharisees Trading (if you are going to be good!) Contract with God, that no one has ever seen, and when they talk about Him they’d like to kill each other over every single comma (,). That paper God intertwined in paragraphs, blackmails, threats and fear, insults not only my intelligence but also a sense of beauty, kindness and fantasy. I can be much better even when all around me is in chaos, and when the prize I expect is only blood, sweat and tears. I can, because I really want to, and not because I have to, so I would redeem more comfortable accommodation there with some St. Peter. I do not believe in Mercy with a match in the hand, I don’t believe in the Creator who destroys his own creations in sulphur and flame, I do not believe in Omnipotence that hasn’t moved a finger while here on Earth were happening such shitty things that would touch even the most petrified heart... My God however, has some Soul – brotherly, some Eye that can see the tears of others, some Hand that lifts one up when fallen, some Ear that hears human groan, some Heart that forgives, some Warmth that melts evil thoughts, that doesn’t remember what someone screwed up yesterday, especially not somewhere there at the beginning of the world, because he’s looking forward into tomorrow, as he awaits for a new birth of the sun without fingers crossed in his pocket. If he isn’t like that, damn him together with those usurers to whom he left all copyrights to measure good and bad deeds, so they can speak of equity but at the same time, they divide right believers from wrong believers according to their place of birth and birth certificate, like buying and selling human souls at the market. I will give my soul for free to the first one that is able to Love and will spend it to the very end, so nothing remains after that.

I need no lie about paradise – there are much better tourist arrangements than this after death peregrination through eternity directed by the agency called ‘’Pray and don’t fuck’’, with a half board in Eden and advanced payments in 365 instalments. Even half an hour is enough for a man to realize how bad, boring and banal you can feel in the company of a huge number of pretenders to the door of paradise. To spend all of eternity with them in there, wouldn’t that be the worst punishment possible?

I need just some peace from this nothingness we call Life, to write a beautiful poem or two, shake my friend’s hand and kiss the ones I love. It would be quite enough to leave this world with a smile on my face, with a job well done, with elusive thought that at least some moments did make sense, that they were beautiful and full of me. People might remember that once was one, who was different to all others, who had the balls to love them for free, who gave them all of himself – for nothing. 


Vinko Kalinić
Anti biographical notations
(fragment)

(Translated by  
Darko Kotevski)