The confidence of any young being is like the confidence of a migrant wave drawn from the countryside for the organization of new structures that will carry the global businesses- someone gets paid to create the wave; the confidence of the old beings is like the consolation of the settled former migrant waves- to which I belong- that positions have been abstained well and now must be protected as single property- for which former and present endeavour each survivor gets a survival pension.
No wonder that each present day, instead of enjoyed as a life possession, is gone through as a retrospective of the fights which one is engaged in, especially where the new wave of the establishment of new order brings together natural opponents, drawn from local and distant parts to be placed in a common environment which they must tournament clash to share, or make business deals to enlarge at the expense of others.
Yesterday, after calling the emergency telephone to prevent the next-door lodger and his dog from overwhelming my son and me, I realized that fights must be taken personally, no matter how strong an opponent looks and what a big gang of interests backs him up, and I also learned that help must be asked only when one has not exhausted all means to use the strategy of previous new-order waves to experimentally inhabit a block section with opponents united by belonging to present versus or co-operative to old military structures.
There is one principle which any wave of new-order establishment follows, and it is to flood the cities with countryside people the moment the cities settle into their social balance and cultural style, at the same time, to flood with new business structures and know-how the countryside the moment there develops a balance between manufacture and management.
What I learned from all the dogs living, and having lived, in the apartments of my neighbours, is that one can get paid to raise a police dog, and also that an old militia dog gets a pension, which makes both types more cherished than neighbour relationship.
In line with the above fights and thoughts, I recall yesterday morning’s poem of mine, and am planning to prepare my five kits: one for prison, one for hospital, one for an earthquake, one for the last journey, and one for leaving Bulgaria altogether.
As Long
As long as there exists balance,
there’ll always be fear of the ends,
there’ll always be hope for beginnings-
both parties leaning back to back
How difficult for Nature to keep balance
through ends and through beginnings only
Beginnings poking and hooking the world round
to turn it, searching surfaces for something
And ends, with disappointment, with nothing found,
with everything unreached inside a globe
V.P.T. 16.12.2008
V.P.Toucheva 17.12.2008 Sofia, Bulgaria
