27 April 2014

I want you to realise when I'm gone

Тази седмица беше странна. От типа "странен", когато правиш плановете 10 секунди преди нещата да се случат и никога не знаеш кой е на отсрещната страна на телефонната линия.
Понеделник в парка и хубавите новини; вторник в Балоx с дърветата и със снимките, и с неочакваните хора, които променят целия ти месец за час и половина. После още новини и срокове в последния момент, all the things to do, различни сокове и много ментов чай за душата. Горещият шоколад и грейпфрутите никога не са достатъчни.

22 April 2014

How I wish I could open my heart

Take your only day off for this week and make it worth the waiting.
Clean up, go to the park, fill your ears with loud music and your lungs with the smell of freshly bloomed trees.

Walking down Crow Road, face buried in the sun and thoughts disappearing in between rays of light. I miss it, I really do. I don't particularly miss Bulgaria but sometimes I dream about the hot summer days and long nights spent at the beach drinking beer and soaking our feet in the warm sea.

And some really good news today. This happens as well sometimes.

13 April 2014

Softly through the shadow of the evening sun

Понякога ги има и тези дни, които те карат да искаш да започнеш да пиеш в 8.30 сутринта и ефективно те превръщат в алкохолик.

В други новини, преместих мебелите в стаята ми (най-после) и вече изглежда хубава и уютна. Има нужда от два допълнителни рафта на стената, но намерих място за лампата ми, която я местя от апартамент на апартамент от 4 години и компютърът вече не е на земята, така че всичко вече си отива по местата.

01 April 2014

Give me something to believe in

It's April already. I don't know how this happened. I also don't know how the last week happened as well.

Stockholm was wonderful. It was in all shapes, in squares and block colours. Catching up with Dick so many months after the last time we saw each other was wonderful. All the stories and all the laughs, all the silly things we said, all the places that we visited; all the beer, all the soup and all the midnight baguettes.

It's been a while since I had a heavy feeling of not wanting to get on that airplane back to Scotland. Actually, never. I've always looked forward to anything that would happen when I'm back home. But this time, no. So here I am, sitting in my bedroom almost two days after I arrived, realising how for the first time I have nothing to cheer me up, nothing to be looking forward to but a pile of work and the group of people I will meet tomorrow at work.

I have more stories from the windy North, I have plenty of them, but I'm still trying to arrange them in my head and suppress the urge to just catch the next plane back. I also don't feel like sharing any and all of them, which made my mother very disappointed several hours ago.