What are you working ON?

"Concepts and open relationships" That's the thing.

Spring is here. And so are people. Spaeti-s are full, bicycles are out and so is the flesh. Hipsters still wear their black beanies but decorate their bicycles with an occasional flower. Spring is here. Too many events to handle, people smiling on the streets, okcupid lost its winter customers.

I'm excited, and so are they. In just few weeks, I met too many people to remember (yeah, sure, alcohol helps). But my phone book does. And one day when winter comes again, I can go through it and think is it ok to call people for a beerchen after 6 months, then, when I need people again. For now, it seems just too difficult to take a phone and arrange a meeting when you can just go out and - Meet People.

So the other day, my New Friend That I Met When Spring Started and me went out chatting with one big group in front of the bar to another in front of a different bar. We see each other often cause we don't need to arrange appointments. We both hang in my bar. I know if I go there, I'll see her. And then we do stuff. Like meeting people, which we both have passion about. It was a great deal, you take a shot and you can win a free tattoo from a tattoo artist from Mexico, who the welcome party was for. I didn't win the tattoo but I could also drink beers from Spaeti and Mexicanas were nice. Oh joy, oh happiness. I also met a girl that got a tattoo from the same guy and it was misspelled.

I met a guy there. Not a Guy guy, but Just a guy. After an introductory conversation about which tobacco is better (smokers have much better social life on account of these exchanges), he asked where am I from. The usual first question. Croatia. I've heard Croatia is beautiful. It is. But a bit boring? It is. And where are you from? I'm German Greek. OK. (I wasn't really sure would my stereotypes humour go well with a German Greek (the German side, the German side). And then What are you working on? Sorry? What are you working ON? Errrrr...errrrr...Nothing? 

I started laughing (as I usually do), maybe a moment too long, maybe a level too loud (as I usually do) and realised the guy is looking at me, with an expression too WTF (as men usually do). So I explained I actually never got this question and wasn't prepared for it. As a person that doesn't really know what she is doing, where she is going and can't give any answers to the Why questions, the only possible solution was Nothing. The guy explained he really hates What are you doing? question. I agreed. There is nothing more boring than What are you doing? But I do understand it's just a tiny effort to get to know people, to put them in a little box which we are familiar with. I want to know Who you are so I ask What do you do. The guy explained further how you end up with much better topics and it doesn't have to mean you are working on something grand but it can be as simple as I am working on my diet for the summer. And you see, with you it worked well also, it obviously hit deep. (true that)

Could this question pass somewhere else? What are you working on? I work in an internet cafe. You come, only 2 dollars hour, just for you, my friend. No, no, no, but what are you reaaally working on? Ah, you mean what am I reeeally working on! Oh, you know, the usual, getting money to feed my family and one day having a big house and buy my wife a nice dress and pay for education of my children so one day they can be bankers and live in America.  America is good. Translation to Croatian just sounds plain silly. If I asked somebody Na cemu radis trenutno? (followed by that meaningful, interested face expression), they would send me to Picka Materina.

It is fairly true that a lot of people in Berlin are actively working on something. Just look at okcupid. Every guy is making music, doing graphic art or fighting for asylum seekers rights. They also grow bio gardens and doing researches (like my flatmate does, it's called Pinterest). Sports are good also. But not any kind of sport, do skating, or bouldering or windsurfing. Combine all of that mentioned above and you get Tempelhof. Some of them actually do, a lot of them I suspect don't, but vast majority does more than I have noticed in other places I travelled or lived in. Kudos for that. We don't allow time wasters here. While in Croatia you would be asked for your job (which shows your salary which shows how "important" you are on a universe scale), here the question itself is about the very meaning (tell me about life and what's in it for you?) and the currency is not money or reputation but - Time. Are you spending your time in a meaningful way? What are you working on? (or well, maybe I am completely wrong)

My flatmate swears there are Average Joes out there and it's a matter of our neighbourhood, not Berlin. Another friend that lives elsewhere (after I excitedly said how many people were on the streets the other day due to spring) said excitedly Oh, in my neighbourhood as well! They were protesting! Protesting against what? Against asylum seekers. You mean FOR asylum seekers? No, AGAINST asylum seekers. Neukolln, I do love you.

And all this does affect you. The same as Boobs and Butts on every billboard in Croatia. You kind of want to show yours after a while. But only after you bought creams and gels and tried a few different diets. And after all bought dozens of dresses and big cleavage shirts and high heals that magazines tell you to buy. And make up. Doing it before is against human right to look only at socially accepted beautiful stuff. You shouldn't do that.

Here you always meet People doing stuff or overhear conversations of Doing stuff and Having projects. Like today in the coffee shop. Two artists discussing about another artist's art:

social growing culture, the translation of idea negates itself, I don't want to be conceptual, global citizen - it's the concept, we need crisis to bring our art together, discursive rituals, delusion, she is too neoliberal, a bit shredded, she is not a global citizen, she is just afraid, people cant see they own inconsistency. yes, they should be ripped to pieces, we all should in order to create, i just have a few paintings. that's good, anything more than that is massive production. which is bad, the only thing that is bad is murder. nothing else is bad, fight our world's imaginative narratives, you're such a kill joy for me, it's counterproductive, its kind of like being a nazi, there is a fundamental error in calling it a global workshop. its just going to be a neoliberal thing. 

Till the guy stormed off yelling: Can we drop this whole thing, I'm leaving to make some art!!
They don't know what global even means!!

I was really into the discussion although being a little village redneck (Why would I drink tea, I'm not sick), I understood their points only half way. But it was fun. Like watching a movie kind of fun. And then (back to reality) another conversation took over in Croatian by a couple sitting next to me:

You have a pregnant wife and you want another?? And she loves you and is having your baby???  
I started laughing my ass off. The guy got embarrassed and the woman laughed with me and started pushing that conversation even more. They were leaving after a minute, I guess trying to get away from this random audience. (I learnt my lesson with speaking Croatian thinking no one understands when after a few hours of drunk talk with my girlfriends about guys and sex, very much in detail, a guy sitting next to us at the bar asked I, odakle ste cure? So, where are you from girls?) While they were leaving, the woman started talking to me, another typical I would say (after I travelled extensively around Balkans) - Where are you from, do you have a husband? I answered yes (usually the best answer to that question, after you hitchhiked extensively around Balkans). The woman asked if it is nice, I said yes. She said she is happy for me. Then she whispered Men are pigs. I whispered back I agree (another thing you notice after travelling extensively...just a joke). She turned to the guy and said to him You like pretty eyes, she has very pretty eyes, do you want her? The guy said No, I want only you. They left. I'd guess somewhere where the wife Isn't.

You see, there seems to be so many options around here. Options to create, options to socialise, options to work, options to call yourself an artist and options for open relationships (with or without your partner's consent). One day I overheard two girls- You know, he wants to try monogamy. I think I'm not ready for it. It's just so...restrictive and old-fashioned. Well, in Berlin, I bet it is.

There is just so many options. So you start doing things (and doing people). Or at least thinking about what (who) can you do. For example my flatmate bought a mattress for exercise, special pants and sneakers. She never exercised but she did something. I'll make poi socks and I ordered a hula hoop. The other day I exercised, I ran (although I swore a long time ago I will never do it in my life), I hiked, cycled for 75km to eat freshly picked asparagus (although I would blame it on living with a German), painted a tiny bit and wrote dozens of times. That never happened before. Or it did but not for a long time (basically since I discovered Beer). So I can at least say that I am working on working on something. I try. That's what can be written on my tombstone - She tried. (That's what she was working on.)  

Going back to the guy. After he explained his theory, I managed to find some kind of true answer: I am working on living in a country where I don't understand the language. What do you mean? I just don't like understanding people on the street, coffee shops and worse of all public transport and queues. It makes me angry and sad. And like this I choose conversations I want to be a part of. It's a much nicer world. My bubble.

The guy said he likes me and asked for my number.




He never called though.
(Maybe in winter)

   
"It may look as if I'm seeking something; but I am seeking nothing" P. Baroja

Unless it's the asparagus season

Do you want to play?

Hello, my name is Marijana. What's your name? 

Hello, my name is Marijana and I just turned 31. I live in Berlin, a city of lakes and parks, street festivals and unusal events, music and art, fetishes and political correctness, cool people and not getting into clubs for the lack of cool, strange contraptions on the road and strange contraptions on people, tall men and beautiful women, bio organic free range vegan upcycling recycling cycling people, a city where snail races are cancelled due to animal cruelty demonstrations, where men pee sitting, where in 3 months I had more documents then in the last 5 years and where smoking protests are being held against lowering amount of weed one can have in a park as a solidarity to refugees (well, it's actual).

My neighbourhood is half hipster and half Turkish. Or as my Mum said on the train approaching there - you can notice we are closer to home by so many more beards and black beanies.

 My Mum came to visit me for the first time I've lived abroad. Cause Germany is a visit-able country. And it was a nice time apart from the ridiculous mind-fuck weather. I suggested going to DDR museum and showed her photos and she said Why would I want to go there, I lived that. I heard a lot of stories from her life in the 80s, running to the queue-not-knowing-what-is-it-for-but-it-must-be-for-something-important, fighting to get a washing machine and having electric cuts based on the day in the week. (Have we ever talked before?) I explained to her that I still like men (after she saw a sign in my bedroom When did you decide to be a heterosexual? and a gay flag) and to confirm it told her a story how I got drunk the other day and behaved idiotic to a guy that I didn't like anymore (which means I liked him before so the story made sense).

Mum reminded me of a story when I was little how I wanted to go and play in the park but I didn't know any kids there. She said  I just have to go and say: Hello, My name is Marijana. What is your name? Do you want to play with me? I followed the advice for years which caused a lot of (later realised) embarrassment and people thinking I'm crazy (or at least a little retarded). Because you don't do that, do you? We laughed about the story. We went silent. Mum looked at me and said: Well, nothing much has changed, has it? No, Mum, it hasn't.

*A friend took the idea one step further one drunk night after she found a little screw on the bar. We thought it's ingenious. We woke up and realised it's not.

We had a nice time, Mum and me, and she went happy back home knowing that I don't live in a shithole, don't work in a fucked up place and my friends are normal people. And my haircut is respectable.

I am 31 and I am going to a Korean Roller Disco on Friday after I finish work in the kitchen of a restaurant. Mum saw the restaurant and liked it. "I feel relieved now that my Marketing-Graphic design- Painting-Writing-degrees daughter works in a respectable venue." She meant it. Last week I randomly went hitch hiking to Poland and ate so much pierogi that I most likely won't touch it ever again in my life. I also got severely drunk. It has been one year since I am here, starting with my 30th birthday that I got stupidly drunk on and repeated it for my 31st birthday. A friend asked me haven't I learnt my lesson. I always do, but that damn alcohol somehow always tricks me. Friends that couldn't attend apologised and I thought thank god, a witness less. But still there is a whole new set of haunting memories that I have to deal with in my head till the rest of my life. My friends said it's fine. It always has been like that. Nothing much has changed.

At the moment I am home alone since everybody left for different kind of vacations. I don't like being home alone. A friend said it's great because you can walk around naked, pee with doors open and leave stuff wherever they are. Since the first two we do anyway, today I will be leaving stuff wherever they are. Starting with a random sponge that fell on the floor. It does feel great. Technically, I could even smoke in the kitchen but I am deeply traumatised by the last time my flatmate surprised me and found me with a cigarette in my mouth. I tried to to ignore it. She did as well. I tried to push it and I lit another one. She said "Don't push it."

They said to enjoy peace at home and do nothing so I was scanning facebook newsfeed all morning only to see an article from Buzzfeed on how to properly clean your vagina, a really good story about a family living in Russian taiga for 40 years without a human contact and a baby saved from ruins in Syria. I also saw a lot of food, dogs, cats, goats and weather pictures, tried to find a post in FreeYourStuff Berlin on somebody giving away a fake vagina (oh, the comments), failed, read a contemporary guide to erotic Berlin for Easter weekend and contemplated on the idea of getting bunny ears and maybe they let me to Kitkat this time.

And this.

I also learnt how eyebrows are important (so I won't take them off just in case). All to the lovely sounds of construction while I was turning the lights on and off every 10 min. Because Spring.

Which all together caused What the hell am I doing moment, as it usually does when I have no distractions around me like People. And the usual - I should delete this idiotic facebook (at least till the next year so I can get the Happy birthday posts again, thank you) and I should go and do stuff and see things and go running and volunteer in an adventure park and paint and learn horse-back riding and write a book and go cycling around the world, or walking, or sailing, and learn a new job, and get rid of all the clothes I don't need, and get new clothes that I am brainwashed to get, and protest (or at least go to that smoking demonstration) and call people that I love and tell them I love them and go look for more jobs and invite guys that I like for a civilised conversation over coffee (which reminds me quote of the day from a friend: "Yea, coz a good man is hard to find, but a hard man is good to find") and move to China and take a dance course and learn how to be a really good cook and learn German and MOVE TO AN UNINHABITED ISLAND AND JUST EAT COCONUTS THE WHOLE DAY. Or to Alaska and kill myself with unidentified berries.

(Or go shopping and buy the same shoes again like my friend. Because Buy.) 

Which is all very very unreasonable, so I just MADE EGGS instead and promised myself I will become a better and more productive person. But not today. Cause today I'm leaving stuff exactly where they are.

And stuff are right here - It was a great year, starting from dodging fireworks on a beach in India, spending two months in nature, getting teenage drunk on three out of four 30th birthday celebrations, leaving Istanbul, moving to Berlin, being completely insane for three months due to the lack of sleep, meeting more insane people that I'm happy to have in my life, working for pretty damn evil people, working for pretty damn cool people, seeing men coming and going, getting attacked for being a blonde giraffe, learning new skills (german not being one of them), having a serious sequence of seriously good breakfasts, attending weird events, seeing weird stuff, visiting Croatia and Sweden, having an amazing time in Israel, loving more people, being loved by more people, living "as if I'm going to die", according to Father. Cause you and everything you love is going to die. Everything you hate too. Even the things you are indifferent about. Kind of soon. All as usual.



There has been loads of ups and equal measure of downs last year. There were tears and laughter. There were loads of ups and load of downs this week. There were tears and laughter this week. Life completely changed. Again. I made a plan. The plan is not the plan any more. But fuck, I'm still having a great time. It has been a great year.

Thank you for your birthday wishes, it's been amazing. 

So amazing, I can't wait for some more. 

(as if I had a choice)

And in the meantime whenever you have a moment like this:

remember that: 

               And most important: