FLASH
Shkruar nga Viktor Zhusti
The reaction of the militants was harsh and uncontrollable: violence, shouting, tearing, lynching, desecration; nothing was left untrampled and defiled, every measure was exceeded, every value was forgotten, "the baby was thrown out, as Marx says, with the bathwater" and nothing was left to be enjoyed.
After a week of storms, when the Facebook Sea was more turbulent than the Adriatic Sea and the tsunami raised to the surface and washed ashore, values and dross, for so long left in the dark, now that it was confirmed, on both sides of the trenches, how ready and on the alert we were (some out of vigilance, some out of jealousy and some for revenge), now that, finally, it was well understood: who is afraid and of whom, who is everyone and with whom, who is a spy and of whom, who disgraced themselves and in front of whom, who is a patronizer and of whom, who is a deceiver and why, who has the richest vocabulary and with what, who deserves respect and from whom, who blackened their face and in front of whom, now that the rain, anger and blindness, with which we attacked each other to tear each other apart, has somehow subsided, let us take a breath and ask ourselves: "Why and for whom did all this serve?"
And, "licking our wounds" (like savages do when the fight is over or they retreat from it), trying, as far as we can, to figure out what's left of us or what's left of us (regardless of which side of the trench we're on), to find: "Was it worth it?! Who won and what?!"
We shared what we had to share: thoughts, opinions, impressions, consideration, antipathies, hatred, bitterness, slander, parties… not counting that the bitterness and hostility that all this leaves behind is not like “the greatest miracle that only lasts three days.” This entire furious and unexpected attack proved to me that no one follows and controls you more than the people you don't like or who you have stepped on.
I read many comments and statements that my reaction was a consequence of the threat that was made to me (?!), since the reaction came two days after posting the photo. In that post, I also included a photo of the message that I sent to his close comrade-in-arms, ten minutes after the meeting, so I was threatened before they saw the photo. There are many who, rightly, ask why I did not react immediately after posting, but I waited two days and this is because I did not make the numerous messages known (I can make them available to anyone), messages very pleading for the photo to be removed or changed with the caption: "he came and met us... he gave us positive energy... I wait for you at the protest on Saturday...". If the collaborators had reported all this to the boss, the noise and the crusade would have been avoided.
I am not indifferent or holy enough to say, when they hit me, “Forgive me, God, for they know not what they do.” No. No. I know and control my face, even that “gray area” of conscience, and if (in some cases) I love and forgive, I forgive not because they know not what they do, but out of pity, because I understand why they do it. Not agreeing with a wise saying that advises in such cases: “don’t get angry with those who speak ill of you, just have mercy on them…”, I decided to react, even more harshly and bitterly than I am known to do, not from the motto “a pig loves a bullet,” but because I felt that silence and retreat gave the warriors a lot of courage, convinced that silence and kindness can be used as a ladder to climb on your back.
The reaction of the militants was harsh and uncontrollable: violence, shouting, tearing, lynching, desecration; nothing was left untrampled and defiled, every measure was exceeded, every value was forgotten, “thrown away, as Marx says, with the dirty water and the baby” and nothing was left to be enjoyed. In order to despise a value (you once valued it) you must first recognize, appreciate, have consideration and honor yourself. Shamelessness cannot and should not be considered courage and bravery, since it reveals a deficient upbringing, a weak character and, in today's time, exposes you. Once “him” (the thief, the swindler, the pervert, the ignorant…) was known only by the family, maybe the neighborhood and the village, but now, through Facebook, fame takes over.
From the comments of some, I realized that I had cut the branch on which I was standing, because it is not just one person who declares: "I had respect for you, but after that I took away my respect". My old respecter and now new "enemy". Respect is not a plug to charge the phone. You (I feel bad) have never had respect for me, because (forgive me) you do not understand it as a concept and category. You have heard it, you repeat it. Why did you have respect for me, you know? But why did you take it away, you know? Because I, to put it mildly, even though you had it and even though you took it away, I do not feel sorry. I am not sorry that I lost you, I am sad that I had you. Your respect would warm and hurt me, if I understood that you respect, first of all, yourself. I can't stop people from thinking what they want, especially when that's the only comfort for them, but I can't help but emphasize what life and a book have taught me: "a person is beautiful when they are beautiful on the inside...".
Në këtë vend, sado të fshihesh, nuk mbetet gjë pa dalë në mexhlis. Shumë nga vigjilentët vigjëlues, duke lexuar “midis reshtave”, nuhatën që qënkam kërcënuar nga “Ai” për bukën e gojës dhe ç’është më e ndyra, më paska futur po “Ai” për të sabotuar protestën. Nga të gjitha këto, më qendisën një karakteristikë plot epitete: i pafytyrë, pa dinjitet, pa karakter, i shitur, i futur, i infiltruar, madje dhe pa këllqe. Disa zbuluan se qënkam dhe “spiun i grekut”, të tjerë më cilësuan “Sorosian”. Një tjetër zbuloi që u katandisa aktor në Shqipëri, nga që më zbuan nga Greqia. Një tjetër thelloi aktakuzën duke deklaruar se jam futur në burg për 7 kg drogë, e të tjera shpifje. Megjithatë, po, e vërtetë, jam spiun: lexoj, shkruaj, përkthej e shikoj teatër në Greqi. “Spiun i kompletuar”.
Shumë nga militantët opinionistë, të angazhuar për të zgjidhur problemet e Kombit dhe Demokracisë, nuk gjejnë kohë të kthejnë shikimin brenda vetes. Demokracia presupozon lirinë e të shprehurit, jo sharjes e shpifjes; debat, jo kryqëzim e kacafytje; votim të lirë, jo nostalgji për rezultatet 99.99%. Më quajtët frikacak, shërbëtor, të shitur, komunist, vetëm se thashë: “Shqipëria bëhet vetëm nga ata që po luftoni”. E thashë. E pranoj. Gabim. Fatal. Miop. Po, miop europian, ama.
Burrat e vërtetë edhe mërziten, edhe dështojnë, edhe qajnë dhe herë-herë i tregojnë dobësitë. Edhe rrëzimi është dhuratë, pasi kthehet në mësim e përvojë, veç mos harrojmë të marrim me vete njeriun dhe mirësinë. Më lejoni të jem ky që jam: njeriu që ka gabuar, që është rrëzuar, që është ngritur, që nuk është dorëzuar. Vazhdoj të eci, pa bastun, pa frikë, duke parë përpara, drejt, larg.
Kur diskutohet për politikë, lexoj shpesh se “ky popull kaq meriton”. Kurrë nuk e kam parë popullin tim si turmë apo kope. Aktori është pjesë e shpirtit të popullit; atje ku të tjerët shohin turma, aktori sheh njerëz. Teatri jeton në trekëndëshin dramaturg–teatër–publik, ku spektatori është frymëdhënësi dhe gjykatësi më i çmuar. Arti është i të gjithëve dhe për të gjithë.
Në këto ditë festash, mendja ndriçohet, shpirti qetësohet e toleron. Falim, jo se tjetri e meriton, por sepse ne meritojmë të jemi të çliruar. Kur me artin tënd përpiqesh të ndriçosh rrugën dhe shpirtin e dikujt, ndriçohet dhe rruga e shpirti yt.
Nëse gjithçka që shkrova do të konsiderohet hipokrizi, atëherë riniseni betejën, shtoni sharjet e denoncimet. Deri tani po u afrohem 1500 like, mbi 1000 komente dhe mbi 80 postime; nuk jam lodhur e as mërzitur. Kjo qenka “bursa” e suksesit. Vura bast se deri në fund të vitit, kush do ketë më shumë like, komente dhe postime, do fitojë. Dhurata dhe emri i fituesit do shpallen në fillim të vitit 2026.
The Great Holidays of the End of the Year also bring sadness, but they are sacred for reflection. On these days, we see the other with softened eyes. Christmas, for children, is gifts; for us, a gift is what you can give of yourself. I wish that everyone has something to give. It is so necessary in the frost of this social winter.
Yours,
Viktor Zhusti.
Dhe prap or njeri(jo)i mire,MATRAPAZ mbete.Asht e vertete qe e kryer denimin per"trafik narkotikesh",droge.Por tashti je si gjithe te tjeret qe te rrethojne.Filozofine mund t'a studiosh,por jo te na e mesosh ne,sepse thjeshte nuk ke perputhshmeri,pra mbetesh i pa besueshem.Te te rroje aktrim-mashtrimi dhe KLIKIMET sepse sic e pohove edhe vete,ato numron sapo zgjohesh nga gjumi.