In a way, Kolos is mainstream. Kolos is a part of pop culture that everyone thinks they know oh so well. Because he’s cool. Because he’s exciting. Because he’s not a fake. Because he looks good on pictures.
All those bruises, cracked heads and noses, blood, sweat, tattoos, long hair, bald heads, naked bodies in ecstasy, youth, love, brotherhood, industry, a rough life, an easy life, a better life, life itself.
Hm…
Let’s start again.
Kolos is not pop, because nobody even knows him. Nobody but Kolos himself. He knows he’s quirky, that he’s not cool, that he’s not the smartest nor the first in line. He’s gentle, hopelessly gentle and vulnerable. He’s shamelessly romantic, so much that it hurts – more than a broken brow bone, or a broken nose, or a handful of teeth. He knows he won’t scare us. He knows that what he has means something, and that we know why. He knows he won’t make it. He doesn’t know he’s not a fake, because he doesn’t even know what a fake is.

Kolos is important. He means something to Kolos. You need to know who you are and never forget. And Kolos knows who he is, and he indeed is – unforgettable.

Text: Nikola Ležaić
Translation: Isidora Krstić
Photo: Stefan Đorđević