I just bumped into an acquaintance from my, as it were, political days. Whenever we met, we used to talk about all sorts of green issues surrounding corrupt golf development in Croatia. But I did not beat around the bush this time around. I admitted that I was out of politics since about a year ago. She just nodded seriously. And then I admitted that I was surprised by my own feelings about the whole thing, as well. The persecution I have experienced has affected me much more than I have expected. From time to time, I am still overcome by rage and despondency. She asked me about my lawsuits, and I told her that the legal ordeal might stretch for another two years, but that I was confident of ultimate victory in Strasbourg. Still, my political opponents had won, as witnessed by my decision to pull out of politics. Persecution paid off. Corrupt golf has vanished from the scene only because of the economic crisis, which is not likely to go away soon. I added that the only thing I was happy about was that everyone finally understood that golf development in Croatia had nothing to do with the posh sport, but only with real-estate machinations organized from the very top of the Croatian political scene. My acquaintance nodded again, and we said goodbye soon afterwards. But the summing up felt unexpectedly soothing. I can tell everything there is to tell about five years of my political struggle in five minutes flat. And I can tell it in such a way that I am not spared, either. Perhaps I will shake off all the bad memories in a couple of years.

Addendum (October 19, 2015)

A bit more than four years later, I rarely bump into acquaintances from my political days any longer. The same holds for summing up my experience. Thus I wonder whether I could tell everything there is to tell about five years of my struggle against crooked golf development in Croatia in five minutes flat ever again. If an opportunity unexpectedly arose, chances are I would only wave my hand dismissively without a single word. Given that my case is now in Strasbourg, where it is likely to be decided upon sometime next year, it will take me another couple of years to shake off all the bad memories. Assuming they can be shaken off at all, of course. At present, this is my greatest hope.