~ Remorse always becomes a story ~

Each one gets tired of their own wishes once. He wakes up in a gloomy morning completely alone, and starts scrolling albums with faded pictures. In front of his, still dreamy eyes, people, gaps and photos of meaningless events and smiling faces pass by, whose names he has long ceased to remember. As he watches them, it seems to him that he is watching the life of a stranger. Though he is persistently trying to concentrate, his thoughts are running out of that album, and, against his will, they rummage through the days from the past that he did not record the camera. With awakening, these unrecorded moments become clearer. After many years, when portraits from the album slowly begin to disappear in the fog of the past, he begins to realize that only what he hides from himself remains permanently and unchanged. Because of that hidden and unchangeable, he often stayed awake and upset until late in the night while everyone else slept. As he recalls many of the sleepless nights, his thoughts, like a passenger who lost his luggage and missed the last flight, went to the place where he passed by fate. Surrounded by darkness and silence, he again wondered why he always early or late for all in his life, and why, never, but never, he did not arrive on time. Sad and disappointing eyes, which he tried many times to forget and escape from them, as if by agreement, gather around him and look at him persistently. He tries to resist these views, but without success. It seems to him that they reach to every point of his consciousness. Remorse, like a stray bone, tries to get out of his womb, and he persistently refrains from throwing it out. He begins to get stuck in his own contradictions. He becomes a witness, a juror and a judge himself. His judicial process becomes long, complex, intricate and dark, as well as the path he has crossed. In the imaginary courtroom, portraits that bring him insomnia and restlessness change. They accuse him of betrayal, libel, deception, theft and pain, and they want to get back taken away part of their heart and the days spent in a false hope. They persecute him with their painful truth and indestructible evidence and ask him to confess that he is guilty. He does not want to confess guilt and blame others. He refuses to make a judgment and postpones it for a moment when he has gathered enough strength and courage to face it. Remorse does not want to wait for that moment. It becomes cruel, burdens him, and wants to tell its story. It’s the only way it can prove it’s alive. He escapes from this story and moves quickly to the first dark, unknown street, to the first pub, and to the first big crowd of the accused. Surrounded by many confessions and truths, he feels better because he realizes he is not lonely. Confused by so many sinners, he is still not sure he is awake. While he looks at unknown faces in the half-light, he thinks that he may have just strayed into a blind alley and ran into such a strange place, or perhaps it has been created from nowhere to help him justify himself. Even for a moment, it seemed to him that perhaps for the first time in his life he had arrived in time. One thing is certain: after the escape, there is no return. Everything becomes waiting. So remorse, as one of many full glasses at his table, is waiting patiently last drop to overflow. He feels that only that one drop is enough to get everything from him to crash like an avalanche, and he knows that he will not be able to stop it until a hill is completely uncovered, under whose snow for years he has overwhelmed everything he hides from himself and that the hill will be the place of his last fall. He is persistently trying to hide the sun behind the clouds and postpone that fall, but feels that the moment of confession is nearing, and he is running out of time to find evidence that he is not guilty. His hands begin to tremble, and his look is anxiously wandering around the mass and stops on the first dirty inscription under a small red heart-shaped lamp: “Playing with someone’s feelings is a great sin. Those who carry it on the soul, once, when they least expect it, face it.” Scared, he becomes sure he is awake and has fallen into the trap. He can not find the way out and ask himself who hid it. The worm of doubt does not give him peace. Perhaps some of those sad and disappointed eyes, who are constantly gathering around him, play with him, or it is done by someone who is constantly following him, and maybe this is the end, the way without exit. He remembers that he read somewhere that remorse always appears at the end of the road, at moments when many tries to wash away sins before going to that world. The fear of that going is taking him more and more, and he begins to lose his orientation. Every step takes him only to the cold walls, between which some strange laughter and a pensive view, mixed with the smell of alcohol, occasionally stray. A false hope, like a ghost, begins to appear in every eye. In a half-light, smoky pub, in the sea of unknown faces, he begins to search hurriedly those who will listen and justify him. He tries to attract their attention and convince them that his story is interesting, but none of those blurred faces trust him because he has no evidence. Everyone just turns their head because they have listened too much to such stories, watches his glass and checks if it is full enough to sink all his nightmares into it. He becomes annoying and, through the story, he tries to revive everything that he once let himself die. He opens his diary in front of everyone, scrolls it, shows dates and names but no one wants to watch. In a dingy pub, they all opened their diaries a long time ago, scrambled them and closed them. After that closing, everything becomes only waiting. Faced with that waiting, which slowly disappeared with every empty glass, like a fish with a harpoon in its heart, he slowly begins to die. He realizes that he is in dungeon, convicted for all his sins and caprices, chained with remorse, which in the end always becomes and remains only a story because forgiveness does not wait for it. So lonely and tired of many wanderings and re-examining, it follows its master until his last awakening.
Remorse always becomes a story, author Suzana Stojanović, February 28, 2018

~ People and horses ~

Ladies and gentlemen, I must say that I am glad that the author of these works, Suzana Stojanović, draws portraits of horses, and not, for example, portraits of people. Namely, horses are still better ranked than man, mostly because a man on the horseback is considered to be successful whereas a horse on a man’s back has nothing but problems. A good horse at full gallop leaves dust behind which means that there are more roads to be paved, while people blemish, gossip and envy one another; I’ve almost forgotten about the politicians, they are always related to some affairs. So, poetically speaking, a horse is a magnificent animal which, unfortunately, isn’t in a position to choose its master or its owner. Then there are, of course, “horses with wings”, which obviously went into business with some airway companies. I have often had a chance to sense a slight feeling of helplessness in those who were constantly criticizing hyperrealism because they themselves lacked the artistic skill. In other words, instead of learning first and then giving their opinion about the learned facts, they immediately criticize and by doing so try to hide their own imperfection. However, Suzana Stojanović with her hyperreal paintings captures the scenes at the right moment just in time for all of us to see defiance and pride, might and beauty, gentleness and wisdom. Horses are a heavenly part of humanity. God was merciful to bless us with such beauty. There are fights between roosters, dogs, bulls and people. Fights between horses don’t exist. Horses race in order to win nobly, they jump over hurdles instead of passing them by, and they don’t enter through the backdoor. They go ahead, people lose their way. Unfortunately, horses are being killed, aren’t they? No, you don’t have to answer. It’s all clear to me.
▪ People and horses (Timošenko Milosavljević, journalist, satirist, humorist, critic; longtime editor and chief editor of the National newspapers in Niš; author of several books satire, stories, drama and monographs)

~ Satires ~

» A blue-eyed professor

» The dream of an artist

» Martha and sisters

» Collectors of information

» The books of promises

» The gallery of strangers

» A call at midnight


Today’s society is confronted with many problems and challenges that are present in every segment of life. We can come to the source of these problems by revealing and illuminating each individual and his world from within. Man’s personal drama and falls, which often have total power over him, are not only his, but also social ones. People find the meaning of their lives more and more difficult. There is little harmony, love, understanding and honor, and there is more and more distrust, hatred, malice and lies. Today, moral values perhaps take the most difficult test in human history. The fall of these values is often the cause of mockery, criticism and condemnation of all those negative lines of many personalities and societies, which can sometimes be so strong that they devalue all human beings in both man and human society. The themes of satires are human stupidity, depravity, immorality and greed. Regardless of whether they are written in verse or prose, or are told by caricature, their goal is always the same: to change the world. In order to better describe man’s vices and faults, satirists often use allusion, metaphor, irony, hyperbole, and allegory. Sarcasm, hidden in the context, is there to help them humiliate the bearers of vices and faults, playing with words. Without fear, they sharply criticize the actuality of their time. Often deeply disappointed in the people and the phenomena that surround them, they, with their sentences, transmit allegorical meanings, images and statements, which are colored by irony and ridicule. On the old stage, where interesting performances take place for centuries, we encounter different characters and situations. Gogol’s postman likes to open others’ letters, officials plunder state property, doctors do not cure patients, and judges do not do their job. His careerists are plotting and flattering. Among them, the worst are uneducated, unscrupulous and lazy, and those with limited abilities whose meaning of life is looting. In satires, material poverty is often endowed with spiritual health, strength, endurance, and dignity, and abundance is placed in spiritual lethargy, emptiness, boredom, monotony and indifference. Superstition is often the result of regression and lack of education. Life is reduced to a struggle for survival in which opponents do not choose resources to win. Only resourceful, cunning and imaginative win in this fight. The defeated sometimes receive only respect for their strength, inner beauty, integrity, honesty, humanity, and principles that they never give up. Dostoyevsky revealed the underworld of the human psyche, and Chekhov laughed at the folly of the people. Many details and seemingly insignificant motifs from everyday life, in his short stories, gained a significant place. He turned sadness into laughter and sent many multifarious messages to the readers. His humor is bitter. This bitterness is perceived by every man’s fall. He has stumbled for centuries, walking in the darkness of his own stupidity, greed, embezzlement, lies, scheming, selfishness, corruption, negligence and clutter. Humor shown in satires is not harmless. It does not only mean that one should laugh at someone’s stupidity, but also to run away from these same stupidities. Satirical laughter is sharp; in it there is a lot of sarcasm and strong irony. This laugh is caused by many rises and falls, accompanied by luxury, wastefulness, degeneration, inactivity and disorientation. The sense of satire is often hidden. We come to it by studying man and his mental state, objects and phenomena from his surroundings, ambiance, space and time in which he lives. Symbols, humorous descriptions and allegories contribute to a great deal of understanding of that meaning. Psychological analysis of portraits as well as detailed descriptions of faces and movements, speak about the character and inner states of the person who is the subject of satire. From these descriptions we often sense interesting monologues, which close the character into his own world and distance him from the environment. These silent monologues, written on the pages of his consciousness and subconscious, show the complexity of his mental life. Chekhov said: “All meaning and all the drama of man is in him, and not in external manifestations.”
(Author Suzana Stojanović)