Rock ‘n’ roll playbook – part 2

  • ACCORDING TO THE OLD MASTERS, KILLING THE ENEMY ON A BATTLEFIELD IS SIMILAR TO HAWKS ATTACKING A BIRD. EVEN THOUGH IT IS AMONG THOUSANDS OF OTHER BIRDS, IT FOCUSES ITS ATTENTION ON THE BIRD IT FIRST CHOSE.She said, ‘Hi, I’m Jelena. God, we’re so wet!’Happy that I met someone, I said, ‘I’m Paja and, to me, every girl named Jelena is the most beautiful girl in the world.’She laughed. She wasn’t over 17 and the air smelled of sex. She was looking at me with those big eyes and her lips were dying for a kiss. The wind suddenly started blowing harder and we were even wetter. I kept staring at her hard nipples through her wet dress. I kicked the hut door, which opened. I asked her to come in. She was unsure if she should do it. I went in and she followed me, closing the door behind her.

    Inside, it was very dark and dusty. There was only a fireplace, a bed, and an old wardrobe. I was thinking about kissing her. I approached her and took her hand. My lips were getting closer to hers. I couldn’t help it. I kissed her. She kissed me back. Then I grabbed her ass. Even though her eyes told me to go on, she smiled and said, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

    All confident, I said, ‘It’s better if we take our clothes off or we will get sick.’

    She stripped and then lay on the bed. I went after her. We were covered with a big, old blanket. We were touching. I started kissing her and then I turned her on her back. When she spread her legs, I slowly got inside her. She screamed. When we took breaks, I told her about my band, music, and films. She looked at me as if she were hypnotized. That hut was our safe haven. When it got dark, we left. I came to that hut several days later to see if she would be there. I was convinced that I loved her. That was it. That was love. My brain was functioning only when she was around.

    One day, when I was on my way back from the hut, I had a revelation about the meaning of life. I was walking down the road when I saw the red roof of an old school and an old village graveyard in the distance. It was a sunny day and I kept my head down, making sure not to step on a snake. I realized, at that moment, that the body gave birth to the soul, just like the seed we put in the dirt grew into a tree. Before that, we christened it by watering it and nurturing it until it was strong enough to resist every wind and storm on its way. You should give it kindness, faith, and hope, that even after the rain there would be the sun. The birds landing on its branches would happily chirp and that would be the award after all the fear.

    That night, I thought about it for a long time. I felt a spark of inspiration igniting inside of me. Somewhere around 1 a.m., while I was listening to Radio 202 in an old bed, with the moon serving as the only source of light, I wrote a song called “People in White.”


    The lamp is on

    I’m standing in front of a door

    The door opens

    People in white


    I hear words

    They don’t speak

    The circle is broken

    Everything is clear


    The circle is broken

    Everything is clear


    I got home

    I was never there before

    I recognized them

    I met them in a dream


    The circle is broken

    Everything is clear


    The song was about entering a hidden city.

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