Belgrade is enjoying its second week of cold weather. I walk the wet city streets, trying to avoid frequent puddles in the old, damaged pavement. The exercise impels me to contemplate on the continuity of continuum and the imperative of intuitive vision. Every kick that comes from the inside of my belly is a testimony to the  microcosm. I am a universe with another universe inside it.

Alien, alienated. That's me.

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