Duvaj, duvaj, duvaj. / Blow, Blow, Blow.

! This post was written long ago. What you're reading is not necessarily how I feel about things in 2017. This blog was started by an 18-year-old in 2001. Please, keep that in mind before you freak out.

This was a challenge. I mean, this REALLY, REALLY was a challenge. If it wasn't 6:10 in the morning, I would've screamed out loud.

In From The Bottom Of A Broken...Uh?!", I introduced the "tag". And in 3 out of 5 possible ways to understand that p..m that I've figured out so far, the "tag" was female.

In this one, the "tag" is male. Since the "tag" from the previous one cannot move, I had to use the reach factor of the entire concept as the tag. And somehow, it fit pretty well in so many ways that it's incredible. Unlike the female "tag" that claims remaining in place forever, the male tag is inconsistent, undefined, many things about it are unknown.

It really, really is enjoyable to write p..ms that can be read in multiple ways. And, really, nothing here is accident-al. Not even the way title was written is accident-al (and yes, there's a reason it repeats three and not the usual four times). The first line is a random homage to this date, the 09th of April, but you have to know me really well to understand why.

Duvaj, duvaj, duvaj.

Zašto si došao?
Šta ćeš ti ovde?
Zašto ne mogu da te se otarasim?
Zašto te se nikad neću otarasiti?

Sa tim tvojim vetrom,
nikad ne znaš gde ćeš pasti,
nikad ne znaš koliko ćeš ostati,
jer niko nije imao dovoljno strpljenja,
jer niko nije prihvatio baš sva izvinjenja.

Kod tebe uvek ima vatre,
kod tebe uvek ima kiša,
uvek nešto ne valja,
uvek se nešto briše,
uvek se nešto ne zna.
Zašto?

Grozan si.
Bolje da te niko nikad nije našao.

Divan si.
Neke si izvukao iz postelje bez povratka.

Divan si.
Šteta što te baš ja nisam pronašla.

Grozan si.
Neke si gurnuo u postelju bez povratka.

Ne boj se.
Ja znam da nećeš nikud.
A mogu da stojim ovde do kraja vremena,
jer je kraj sveta odavno prošao.

_______________________________________

Blow, Blow, Blow.

Why did you come?
Why are you here?
Why can't I get rid of you?
Why will I never get rid of you?

With that wind of yours,
You never know where you'll fall,
You don't know how long you'll stay,
Because nobody had enough patience,
Because nobody accepted all apologies.

With you there's fire,
With you there's rain,
Something's always wrong,
Something's always erased,
Something's always unknown,
Why?

You're awful.
I wish nobody'd ever found you.

You're great.
You got some out of their death bed.

You're great.
I wish it was me who'd found you.

You're awful.
You got so many in their death bed.

Don't be afraid.
I know you aren't going anywhere.
And I can stand here until the end of time,
The end of the world has long passed.

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