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Spanish Eyes – Christus Rex

Christus Rex is a Latin phrase that means “Christ the King.” It is often used to refer to Jesus Christ as the ruler and sovereign over all creation. Christus Rex is also the title of several churches, organizations, and events that celebrate the kingship of Christ.

The Second Coming refers to the anticipated return of Jesus Christ to Earth, as foretold in the Christian faith. According to Christian belief, Jesus will return to judge the living and the dead and establish his kingdom on Earth. This event is a central tenet of Christian eschatology and is described in the Bible, particularly in the New Testament. Christians believe that the Second Coming will bring about the ultimate fulfillment of God’s plan for humanity and the world.

1. The Second Coming of Christ: In the Bible, Jesus prophesied that he would return to earth in the future to judge the living and the dead and establish his kingdom.

2. Wars and Rumors of Wars: In the book of Matthew, Jesus predicts that there will be wars and rumors of wars before his return.

3. False Prophets and Deceivers: Jesus warned his disciples about false prophets and deceivers who would lead people astray in the end times.

4. Persecution of Christians: Jesus foretold that his followers would face persecution and hardship for their faith.

5. Signs in the Sky: In the book of Revelation, there are prophecies about signs in the sky, such as the sun turning black and the moon turning red, which will signal the end times.

6. The Antichrist: The Bible warns of a figure known as the Antichrist who will deceive many and lead them away from the true faith.

7. The Great Tribulation: Jesus spoke of a time of great distress and suffering that would come upon the world before his return.

8. The Gospel Preached to All Nations: Jesus predicted that the gospel would be preached to all nations before the end times.

9. The Rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem: Some interpretations of biblical prophecy suggest that the Jewish temple in Jerusalem will be rebuilt before the return of Christ.

10. The New Heaven and Earth: The Bible describes a new heaven and earth that will be created after the final judgment, where there will be no more pain, suffering, or death.

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The Protector of Lourdes

Setting: The rooftop garden of a Tribeca loft, late evening. The skyline of New York City glitters, a private escape from the flashbulbs below. LOURDES, wrapped in a silk kimono robe, leans against the railing. MARKO, in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, stands a respectful few feet away, his posture alert, eyes scanning the adjacent rooftops. A faint, intricate pattern of dots is just visible along his forearm, like old ink.

LOURDES: (Without turning) You can stand down, you know. The only paparazzo up here is a very determined pigeon on that chimney.

MARKO: (A small smile, but his eyes don’t stop moving) Habit. And pigeons can be surprisingly shrewd.

LOURDES: (Turns, leaning her hip against the rail) That’s your answer for everything. ‘Habit.’ ‘Protocol.’ ‘My job.’ You’ve been a shadow in spotted clothing for two years, Marko. My very own, very serious Dalmatian.

MARKO: (Finally looks at her, his gaze steady) It’s not just a costume, Lourdes. It’s a vow. My family… we don’t just guard people. We guard legacies. Light. The things that burn too bright and attract moths… and worse.

LOURDES: She takes a step closer, the city lights catching in her eyes. And what if the ‘legacy’ is tired of being a flame? What if she just wants to be… a person? In the quiet?

MARKO: (His voice softens) Then I guard the quiet twice as fiercely.

LOURDES: Another step. The space between them is charged, humming. You know, in all the fairy tales, the protector eventually leaves. The job is done, the dragon is slain, off they go.

MARKO: (He swallows, the professional mask cracking) My fairy tale is different. The protector sees the flame not as a duty, but as a hearth. And the thought of leaving it cold… (He breaks off, shaking his head) That’s not in the vow.

LOURDES: Is this in the vow? (She reaches out, her fingers barely brushing the pattern of dots on his forearm. He goes very still.) All these spots… a map of every loyalty, every danger you’ve stood against?

MARKO: (A low murmur) A map of every reason I shouldn’t be this close to you right now.

LOURDES: But you are. You’re here. And you’re not scanning the rooftops anymore. You’re looking at me.

He was. His intense focus, once diffused across the entire skyline, was now fixed solely on her face. The night seemed to hold its breath.

MARKO: It’s the greatest breach of protocol I’ve ever committed.

LOURDES: Then be a disgrace with me. Just for tonight. No Marko Bosko, Dalmatian guardian of some sacred trust. And no Lourdes Leon, heir to a hurricane. Just… us. In the quiet you promised to guard.

MARKO: (He brings his hand up, covering hers where it rests on his arm. His touch is warm, surprisingly gentle for hands so capable of violence.) The quiet was a lie. There’s nothing quiet about this. About how I feel. It’s a roar.

LOURDES: (A smile, genuine and unguarded) Good. I’ve spent my life surrounded by noise. I’d rather have your roar. Let it drown everything else out.

He doesn’t kiss her. Not yet. Instead, he brings her knuckles to his lips, his eyes closing for a brief, precious second—a guardian offering a devotion deeper than duty.

MARKO: Then my vow changes. From this moment, I don’t protect the flame from the world. I protect the world for the flame. For you. Wherever you lead.

LOURDES: (Whispering, leaning into him) Start by leading me inside. The pigeon is definitely getting a scoop.

A low, genuine laugh rumbles in his chest as he finally, fully, lets his guard down, wrapping an arm around her and turning them both away from the glittering, watchful city.

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Swimming With The Serbs

🎤 “The Water Belongs to Us All” – A Speech by Yugo Joe

(Yugo Joe steps up, looking out over a crowd, perhaps near the Adriatic coast. He speaks with passion, but an underlying weariness.)

My friends, my neighbors, my Croatian people! I want to talk to you tonight about the water. About the sea that washes up on our beautiful beaches. This land, this coastline, this heritage—it is ours.

And because it is ours, we have a right to decide who shares it. And right now, we are sharing it. Aren’t we?

We see Harjeet bringing his children to splash in the shallows. We see Muhammed setting up his umbrella to escape the fierce summer sun. And we welcome them. We open our arms, because they are here, they are working, they are living, and they are part of the new lifeblood of this country. That is right, and that is progress.

🌊 Why Not the Serbs?

But if the water is open enough for Harjeet, and open enough for Muhammed, then I have to ask: Why is it still closed to the Serbs?

I see the faces. I feel the tension. I hear the old whispers about what happened, about who lost what, and about grudges that go back further than my own grandfather can remember.

But look at us! We are the new generation! We are not defined by 1991. We are defined by 2025. We are defined by the jobs we need, the lives we want to build, and the simple, undeniable fact that the sea does not belong to any flag!

💔 The Lie of Conflict

They tell us to hate. They tell us to remember the bitterness. They tell us that our history demands we keep this wall up—this invisible, hateful wall between people who are geographically, linguistically, and culturally brothers and sisters.

But I learned something profound, something true, from a man who saw this same madness. He said:

“War is when the old and bitter convince the young and stupid to fight.”

They were the old and bitter. We, my friends, were the young and stupid.

They convinced us to fight. They convinced us to kill. They convinced us that a few square meters of sand was worth more than a lifetime of peace.

Well, I am done being stupid! I am done carrying a hatred that was handed to me like a heavy, broken relic!

🤝 Choose the Future

This is not about forgetting. It is about choosing to live.

It is about saying that if a family comes from a continent away and is welcome to swim on our beach, then a family that lives just an hour’s drive over a border that should be meaningless is also welcome!

Let them swim. Let them spend their money here. Let them taste the same salt air that we do. Because every single Serbian kid who swims here, every Serbian family who is shown a moment of kindness, is another nail in the coffin of that old, bitter war.

We are the new Yugoslavia. Not the old, failed state. But the new, invisible, peaceful union of people who just want to live.

Open the beaches. Open your hearts. Let’s start swimming together.

Thank you.

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I Have Eastern Promises to Keep

Yugo Joe looks at Madonna, not as an icon, but as another exile who learned how to survive noise.

Yugo Joe:
I’ve got Eastern Promises to keep in the former Yugoslavia. Old ones. The kind you don’t monetize or hashtag.

I waited too long for a Pussy Riot that never came, for a peaceful revolution of love that stayed stuck in a Spotify playlist. I kept thinking the crowd would wake up, that the drums would turn into heartbeats.

But history doesn’t move when you clap for it. It moves when you bury people.

He pauses. The bravado drains out of him.

Yugo Joe:
My old girlfriend died from breast cancer. No slogans saved her. No marches. No likes.

I have to visit her grave. That’s the real appointment. That’s the real protest—standing there and remembering who I was before everything became performance.

Madonna doesn’t interrupt. She knows graves better than revolutions.

Yugo Joe:
So if I’m leaving, it’s not escape. It’s duty.
Back there, the dead still recognize your footsteps.

Love isn’t loud anymore.
Love is showing up when the music stops.

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