He writes about women, about God, about the supreme being, about evolution. He writes about language, about convictions and doubt, about heaven, about forgiveness. He writes about the Impossible, as what is most important and fundamental to us lies within that. He writes about fiction and non-fiction and about its connections, interactions and contradictions. He writes about well-known and unknown heroes, about well-known and unknown martyrs. He writes about art, which is not accessible to anyone. He writes about Serbia and about Yugoslavia and about the Balkans and about the United States of America and about the United States of Europe. He writes about love and about irony. He writes what he has to write about. He writes on everything or nothing.
And when he turns to reading, everyone is affected by it. Reading is like falling in love, he maintains: it’s a betrayal of everything, which we have believed in until now. Equally, writing. Equally, thinking. If thinking, writing, reading and falling in love were not so, then they wouldn’t exist.He lives abroad. Life is abroad. Art is the fatherland.