The enemy line in Belgrade, video.
Stolen life by fake friends.
Belgrade, 2017. The snow is falling heavily and incessantly over the city. The biting cold penetrates to the bones, that kind of could that prevents you from sleeping and even if you manage to you don’t know if you’ll be waking up the following day. That very strange sensation to have turned back time, to already have seen and lived the horrors that should have gone and be buried in a grave forever. In Belgrade, life seems to flow relatively normally, despite all that has been occurring in the very heart of the city, between the central station and the bus station. Its citizens looks completely unresponsive to the emergency that has been happening here, perhaps remembering the old war.
Indifference reigns supreme here, and not only in Belgrade. But also in the European community. Our politicians words are nothing but hot air, lacking any possible credibility. The truth is that the situations that has come into being is not the outcome of mere chance. It’s the opposite, instead. My arrival at the bus station was like a punch to the gut, everything happens in broad daylight, there’s nothing to hide. It’s simply before the eyes of a world that is looking still, senseless insensitive to what has been happening through these years.