Collecting Trash

I’m writing from Spain, as better friends already know,
but to those who are not that good I have to confess something too,

I became the Madrid Garbageman.

yes, trash collector.

a volunteer, noone pays me, I do it out of love.

So, I walk the streets, I look carefully
and get excited about trash, miniatures,
I have a notebook and a card to pick them up easily,
I have albums at home where I arrange them,
wash them a little first,
later animate them and I am happy,
Marija, my girl, just looks at me,
I don’t know what she’s thinking and how long she would take it.

I don’t know if that has something to do with the theft of the computer,
they stole it from me on the first day
and I started paying more attention to everything around me,
and I realized there are many unnoticed, beautiful things
or it was always like that to me but in Belgrade and Prague I was too shy,
oh, I am embarrassed here too when some pretty girl walks by and sees me bending down,
I pretend I’m doing something else,
but I am a bad actor, I cannot hide the excitement and joy
when I see some incredible crumpled piece of paper
or a shabby, beautiful, stamped down bubble gum
not to mention balloons that children chewed up,
I forget the world around me then, I kneel on the ground, In the park,
I bought second-hand garbageman pants, the real ones,
and I search slowly,
it is not easy for me here in Madrid
but those are rare moments of lightness and devotion, play, concentrated exploration,
sad is a man who doesn’t have that kind of passionate obsession...

to cut it short,
in the next year I wish you to find
some obsession of your own
or to find courage for an already existing obsession
to live it freely and let go

small but precious thing, yes.