It is a fact that the world is consolidating in organization, is developing in means, is economizing on consummation, and is creating its modern image.
The recent news about the establishment of a Mediterranean Union of the Mediterranean countries, which excludes not only Bulgaria from participation, reminds me of “Dorman” (http://vpt.hit.bg) and Jane Brown’s need to participate in the world’s realized dreams, too early for her if time is measure in life-span, and too late for her to accept that when a dream cannot substitute reality one feels betrayed by mankind:

A Necklace of Sea Resorts
Life seemed unfair to love, any love, even love which bordered on keeping a liking for something inside one which one had to get used to the idea of losing to keep something else.
Jane was at the age when any physical pressure could lead the more liable to keep restraint home than develop the instinct of the predator, keep it to the point of derailing from everyday ways while losing property to support life, and while creating in the closest environment the poverty which could be blamed only on a failure to cope with the challenges of a modern and ever-changing world.
Jane was also a woman of an age, with life and experience behind her, who, when seen by others, feel the discomfort of being watched for faults and offenses, and when seeing herself as the object of merchandise- from advertising to resources of ideas for school teachers and psychologists, could very easily collapse into the style of a social
lunatic who can neither strike nor be relied not to.
Many like her had been in the plans of different people who worked on their individual projects, but were all in one program for the country, and were indirectly supporting different programs worldwide, people who came and went in uniform with the regularity with which they succeeded or failed to carry out their experiments and perform their tasks, and get the results they had envisaged, or contrary to these results- any other were unnecessary at this point in Jane’s country and could be used later or somewhere else as ideas for new projects. Many of the people who had
lost their sensible orientation had been misled to believe that free lunches did exist, many walked with the uncertainty of the small animal followed by the full of other small animals large beast. Many swayed physically and mentally, but Jane seemed to have kept a small victory over the huge beast: she still had the flat her happy family had lived in before disintegration proved the only way of survival, and she still had her
profession of a teacher, only the joy and the excitement of living had disappeared somewhere along the line which had to connect the east to the west, and the west to the east, in a shuttle of activities which passed through the interests of the same people who crossed the borders to be where something had to be met or to be received.
It was a pretty exchange of all kinds of goods, interests and deals, which the future of the earth’s advancement could not do without if it was the future of science and technology whose greatest projects could not be put to hazard.
Dorman, part of one of the top projects, and with an own one for a lower level, said to himself, at the very moment as Jane Brown was saying to herself: “If you need the sea I wrote about, ringed with its shining resorts, all along the coast, seen lovely as it will be- like a blue eye with a diamond necklace- from the satellites and by people planning
their holidays on the Earth, why did you believe that I would ever be led to participate, be it through your dream, in a project controlled by you.”
‘If you were not as restricted by a need to make no allowances for the existence of tricks in the chest of the honest, and for some honesty in the heart of the cheat, you could have spared yourself the anxiety and the miserableness of the crisis of transition. We cannot but go round the world and be sure that what we do is safe. You could have given your name to the most precious necklace in the world, the ring of diamonds,
like diamonds around the blue of the sea on whose shores you wrote your lovely poems, as thrillingly lovely yourself.” Said Dorman.
“Keep your ring of shining resorts, I’ll keep my poems. But if I learn I was on anyone’s project connected with the families of the war veterans, I’ll find you even if it takes me to work out my own plan, project, or program, be it in the centre of the sea, be it in the chain of resorts, be it in the whole world.” Said Jane Brown as if Dorman could hear her, as if he were not just a tiny fraction of a larger project which the earth
and life had worked out for themselves.
It was the time of paranoya, but only those who had been used as, or chosen to be, the subtle underground, rooting, systems of different tree growths, and had selected ways to go under other trees to claim belonging to their parameter when the squirrels complained they had nowhere to bury their nuts, and to remind the same squirrels, when they complained their nuts were being grown through, that the trees they had
taken the nuts from belonged to these roots’ origin and relations.
Life was developing, and trade had given in to the oldest science: psychology, where people who had a strong dislike for direct contact with material, machines, or production, were in the spheres of art and change in studying the human nature in its ever-splitting-up variants, like a dandelion with the direction of longing for activity and the one of the reticence of pretence, like in a smart project where the falsitude of art
when produced by a practical person is studied against the case of the falsitude of life links when the common directions are unwelcome and what the world can spare is most willingly taken and asked for, together with what the world would like to keep back, but cannot get over the vacuuming drain of: two cases where the artificially said ‘I am living’ sounds much more convincing than the real ‘I am living’ coming from someone who has difficulty in feeling life because of the full occupation in participating in it.
Life was going on, on one level- near the earth and all over it, but the games for control over it were going on, on different levels, and those whose origin had thought well and seen far, were the most ready to start a new game on a board way up, while finishing a previous one of a lower level. The people, those whom life really could depend on, and who had no liking for different experiments or any shifts of direction, and who were the trees in the garden of life, were feeling from sad to furious, from understanding to misled, from optimistic to paranoid, and from believing to ever suspecting what the future might bring on the day after.
The secret offices and services, which had split the world up into easy to control sectors where different projects had been experimented with till the best was taken as a global one, were now in the trade and the technology spheres, and when one or another said they were in Jane’s country to do business, advertising their new function through the mass media, Jane suspected they meant business she was involved in somehow, and when they said they were there for love or interests, she thought it was her they were after- to stop her, to check her, to court her, to use as a model or a pilot project, or to lead to the idea of using the other people in return for a new idea about a new manipulation project.
The time of paranoia seemed it would last for her for as long as she lived, and she hoped to live long to find Dorman, or to see him come with a new wave.
It was the time of paranoya, and everything was dealt with in a manner, which could years later be assessed as one of inadequate and unprofound investigation and over-reliance on long-term programs, but now was good enough to keep the reins of the chariot of victory rambling over lands and fates towards the rising sun to meet and be met just before finding out that the settlements in its trail will curse its existence, and bless their own, and that the world is too small for any victory.
It was the time of paranoya when the compact masses of ethnic, of generation, -differentiation had grown in their own population which now could be channelled to form the boundaries of the areas in which the victory of specialization would breed its own masses, which to channel later to form the next level of boundaries and areas, all till only a specialist in finding an escape would be able to get out into the sunlight of freedom of deed, where, before the stars started monitoring the complex net, one could dream of an adventure or a reality.
It was the time of paranoya when all the conditions for trade and business on a larger scale were ready for them to give life a glazing, even the undergrounds were patched up and matched in colour and understanding of the importance, like the importance the lining a party piece of clothing has- neither to show up, nor to let the shiny top cloth cling to the skin to reveal the structure of the body.
It was the time of paranoya, when the decisions were made at high quarters to be challenged by the public in a well-organized campaign in support of what the manipulative decisions had been denouncing.
It was the time of paranoya and almost the end of the year two thousand and two, when Jane had found out that all her dreams were so far away that they had probably learned to lead their independent lives. They could have become someone else’s, or maybe were pooling their own crowds round them, Jane could not worry about that too, she had classes to find for the time after the New Year celebrations which were for many a freezing into someone else’s victory time.
It was about the end of the year, some years before…, some years after…., but at the very time of paranoya.
V.P.Toucheva 2002 Sofia, Bulgaria
V.P.Toucheva 13.07.2008 Sofia, Bulgaria