It is interesting to learn how many countries have a law that obliges the whole nation to be a community of organ donorship, and how many of those that have the law also have a system constructed on general practitioners who know little about laws, on executive agencies that keep the registry of refusals but cannot be reached, and a ministry of public health that cannot be engaged in minor cases.
It is also interesting how much of the control over a population of no importance is derived from laws connected with the complexity of life: health, rights, home, jobs, and accessibility. Also, how many of the programs forbidden in one place of the world are allowed in another, and how many secret projects are full of people unaware of being involved in long-term explorations. As to me, my father fought against the nazi in World War Two, and I am sure that I have a few subtle non-friends in the scientific circles; and my father-in-law fought against the Bulgarian fascist regime and the capitalist system, and I have a few open non-friends in the spheres that have been privatized. It is not a paranoia, it is a lasting confrontation that started with shooting, continued with reformation, and is going on with monitoring and assistance.
In one word, here is m poem of yesterday, written and given to the world to read in its whole, unlike the methods that include a life in a turmoil of accidents and confusion to grab a piece from a half-dead body and grab a fee from a desperate patient:
A Sunflower
A sunflower yellow has just bloomed
It is a secret when it blossomed
A soul sighed out by life doomed
From somewhere secret hurried home
A hungry eye that feeds on beauty,
on joy and stylishness we have
Can someone rich be rich in duty
and buy it off itself or for itself
A roamer in eternity and lucid Eden
With no place to stop, no threat or fright
A listener to tunes of light and freedom
In closeness and dusk of its small site
A sitter by a lake of blue and glory
Alone as if nobody was, nobody will
It tells lifes long tales through its story
None needs to hear how flowers feel
A sunflower yellow has just bloomed
It is a secret when it blossomed
A soul sighed out by life doomed
From somewhere secret hurried home
V.P.T. 22.06.2009
V.P.Toucheva 23.06.2009 Sofia, Bulgaria, EU
