Idle, short, random, and fast.

Bulgaria is the land of hurry and makes me feel tense.

Upon the arrival of the plane, people spring up convulsively before the fasten seat belts sign is off. They struggle with their luggage (I get the constant impression that pieces of it will fall on other passengers or myself) and then run into the airport bus, and out of it to passport control desks, which are not open yet. Last week, a lady was so taken up with her race that she stumbled and fell on the few stairs leading to the counter. Strange she wasn’t trampled upon by a horde of similarly minded athletes.

I can remember a life spent queueing. The last 3 or 4 comrades, in a queue for reasons unknown: “what’s this queue for?” “maybe shoes” “I’ve heard it’s sugar” “Let’s hope it’s toilet paper”.

Play everything double-speed or – even better – fast forward. A life of gathering and overstocking. Of eating when you’re not hungry.  Of things done carelessly. As long as you do it in a hurry, everything will be fine.

And now, back into the city of ma lassa perde (“leave off”). Wondering how to reconcile these two mindsets and stay sane.

“International tickets counter”

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Serenity

Lack of agitation or disturbance. Subjective balance, requiring the acceptance of your own feelings and needs and their regulation with moderate doses of selfishness and compromise – don’t let your ego erase other people’s subjectivity; don’t let other people’s subjectivity erase yours.

The boundary between compulsion and preference is fleeting.

When I’m unbalanced, I read Pride and Prejudice – it’s been like my chocolate bar since I was 15. If I’m enlightened or inspired by a recurring thought or an idea, I can’t sleep until I show it in the best possible way (this is what I mean).
Jill is serene thanks to James Joyce and the regular practice of sodomy.
Maria needs to recite 20 Hail Marys each morning and to clean everything three times.

If Jill wished me to be happy, she’d advise me to read Ulysses and would give me a few other – more prosaic – tips. Maria’d tell me that I have to tidy up my desk and go to Church on Sundays. And if I wished to avoid responsibility for my actions, my only choice would be to become Maria, or Jill. It would be oh so simple.
A further step ahead would be to try to become both. This is only for the Pro level, however: don’t try it at home.

In another life, I would have done anything to conform and solve the contradiction. The fact that Jill and Maria wished me to be happy would demand the immediate display of gratitude and sacrifice. I would concentrate all my energy in the realization of their advice, which I would perceive as an imperative. But right now, I’ve stumbled upon the fact that my own ways are just as valid. The guilt is still heavy, at times.

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A Dialogue with Narcissus

Sometimes you can speak only with yourself. It happens when you lose interest in all the others.

When everything around you is undervalued, it is only then that you can successfully reassess yourself. Only when what surrounds you is non-existent, or conquered, or admiring, you can feel you really are something, you exist, you have a presence, your feet leave footprints, your speeches are listened to. The rest of the time, you disappear. It’s a fixed ratio: estimate of you means underestimate of everything around you, and vice versa.

And what about the others? You need them exceedingly. Without them you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. And who is to admire you, in any case? But then, it is not really them you see. Nope. You only see yourself.

What was it that Berkeley used to say? “To be is to be perceived”? He was wrong. To be is – to be admired.

A sincere thank you for giving me the opportunity to see this.

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