During the day we live the Serbian war: new identity cards, walk on bridges, solidarity among hurt people... During the night we have the NATO war: detonations, fires, shelters...
Yesterday a journalist was killed in the center of Belgrade, in front of his house, in the middle of the day. Is this war too, and whose war is this now? Who's next?

Kids go to discotheques during the day, they make parties during the day. They say: who knows, maybe this will be our last bit of fun. Other factories were destroyed last night, petrol storage, again Pancevo and Novi Sad, two cities with such peaceful and easygoing people, for the past few years full of refugees from Croatia and Bosnia. I have friends in both towns, one of them emailed me: yes we will go on with work for our international summer schools, they are more important than ever. But at this moment we have dead people here although we, at the peace movement are still all alive... He is much better than me, I don' t want to go on with international summer schools, I don't want to fake normal life: we will need years to get out of this mess, out of destruction, fear and anger, and I will take my time...
Last night an old man next door was taken to the hospital, during the intensive air raids. He was tied to a chair and carried out of his flat; he politely said, Good night. I guess it was some kind of nervous breakdown: alone, all these weeks, he couldn't take it anymore. Better a crowded hospital.
An old woman I know stopped eating: she is a prewar communist. One of the few honest people I know, nevertheless not less dogmatic. I can imagine the questions and answers that find no sense in her head; her body reacted.