Tamara Stamenkovic
  • Life after death inside myself

    I’ve never been happier then the moment I stopped believing in life after death. Not the physical one, it would be too obvious. Life after death inside us. Every time I exhaled the unfulfilled. It freed me from apathy and boredom, and again I can hear myself at night counting. But how do you count…

  • Dreams never die

    I never realized that darkness conveyed chaos until I opened my eyes before it. I found myself surrounded by freshly painted walls in white, on the left and right, plastic green chair, silk curtains, and all the doors were identical. What pierced my ears were the high-frequency voices of people and machines running out of…

  • Split up before and after our impulses

    In desperation, we lie, we deceive sensibilities, we’re losing fairly, bluffing only with the existence in the darkness that surrounds us, as if it swallows us with the eyes with a scalpel which hangs on the lower eyelids. The space between us could be one room, one continent, which yawns, split up before and after…

  • There’s nothing more dangerous than a woman which is well-read

    There’s nothing more dangerous than a woman which is well-read. She knows the depths in which you would immediately drown. She swims in different genres with tears in her eyes, creating unique worlds and emotions, unfamiliar to you. When she talks, she makes love with words you’ve never heard of. You and she aren’t on…

  • What is memory?

    We reconstruct memories, one by one. We recognize the smell, the touch, the colors, the way everything made us feel, and then we realize that one memory cannot be only one. There are countless others in it, all those fragments of short film frames in our head where the brain, with its fascinating ability, collects,…

  • Days like these

    There are days when my memories slip under my skin. I feel them moving through my body, take forms of different people and feelings, I feel them watching me as I look at myself. I feel my memories wink at me, as if they were living beings inside me, not moments left a long time…