Monday, May 25, 2009


I figured it out. It's not my kidneys that are the problem. It's my heart that needs to heal.

Thursday, May 7, 2009


You know what my favorite hobby is? It's not photography, or writing, or traveling. It's capturing moments. Expecially those really, genuinely perfect ones. Soaking them in with all available senses and resources and savoring them, only to hang to them a little while longer and to roll in that nice, tingling feeling of semi-euphoria when I am just...perfect.

I am sitting on my bed in the sunny, well lit room with green wallpaper that I picked out myself. I'm stealing wireless internet, chatting with friends and enjoying the lazy Sunday afternoon. It's one of those rare occasions on which I am back home - back to Burgas. My Mom is in the kitchen making my favorite meal. My Dad is in the next room, fixing my old jeans on the 90-year-old Singer sewing machine my grandad left after he left us. Yes, my father actually can do everything. The radio is loud, and Billy Joel is singing. I've left the door between the two rooms open so I can hear the music and my Dad cussing at the ancient machine better. I feel home. I feel normal. I feel that there is nothing weighing on me at that very moment. I am really, truly free.
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