Contrary to popular belief...

I need to restate my incessant profound consuming love for the awesomeness of Bjork. She can make things and name them "Mother Heroic" and "Nature Is Ancient" and sing about the ubiquitous Mother Nature archetype and I will love it instead of despise it. I'm a sucker for anything she does. It's sooo totally personal by now.

rescue me from level-headness and the unnecessary luxury of being calm!

Happy birthday

Ноември почти безспорно е месецът с най-много рождени дни в календара ми (или щеше да бъде, ако си отбелязвах рождените дни в календара). Честит рожден ден, Кате, Юли, Ники, Матвей, Иване, Явора, Гинтас, Уилям и ако съм забравила някого, честито и на вас. Бъдете щастливи.

Save me

Things change and I fail to notice when. Days and weeks rush past me, blurred, blended in a homogenous concoction with no clear peaks or lows, with no highlights, no distinguishable timeline with coloured dots to signify new stages of construction of something meaningful.

It's too bad youth passes and innocence gets melted down to a laughable smugde on one's history. Innocence, the fertile soil of grand designs, of plans and promises made with purest sincerity, of ties of love which seem unseverable, eternal, absolute. Absoluteness is the most precious thing I lost. The excitement, the hopeful optimism it spawned, the broad horizons of possibilities it opened, all shrunk down to a tiny window of residual faith, appearing to grow ever smaller...

Please,
save me