“One sees a kaleidoscopic array of symptoms and dysfunctions, never exactly the same in any two people. The neurological dysfunctions interact with all that is particular and unique in an individual—their preexisting strengths and weaknesses, their intellectual powers, their skills, their life experience, their character, their habitual styles, as well as their particular life situations.”
– Dr Oliver Sacks, Everything in Its Place: First Loves and Last Tales
Hey,
It’s been a few good weeks if it’s been a day. How are you holding up? I am still working on my web development skills and preparing for my return to the railway. The latter is something the mounting bills necessitate for, while the former.. the former is my ticket out and away. Right now, however, like milk boiling over, it’s sharing these matters that took over me. Why the comparison, you ask? I suppose, there’s no small deal of anxiety involved in the many processes that are taking place, prior to committing words to paper. At least, this happens to be the case with my own journey of self-psychic expression. Only a monster (or a genius) can approach a blank slate and feel perfectly calm. This nervousness I speak of, I first noticed back in mid-2018. A colleague of mine and I was tasked with setting up a brand new office space in central London, installing desktops, monitors, and networking equipment. That day, my mouth and my brain had seemingly conspired against me, running amok, under the guise of good intentions. Fortunately, my colleague was in great spirits and ended up indulging me in my psychosomatic reverie, either by laughing or exclaiming whenever seemed appropriate (for him) to do so. Prolonged periods of sparse social interaction certainly do a trick on you. The more I think about it, the clearer my understanding of the rising uptake of “alternative facts”. And imprisonment is supposed to aid in the efforts of helping people correct past mistakes? I am not so sure about that now.
A personal highlight of the last few weeks was the praise I received on Twitter by Archipel, for my volunteering to translate subtitles from English to Bulgarian. The work they do is in the form of short documentaries about the Japanese gaming industry, with a particular focus on its superstars and veterans in art and directing. More broadly speaking, these guys are always in search of stories about talented artists and their videos show a great deal of attention to cinematography, as well as style of delivery. When I first approached them via email, I wasn’t expecting much in reply, as I suspect that the Bulgarian-speaking audience looking for the kind of content they produce, is rather small. Still, after a few days, they replied back. Since I’ve committed to translating all new videos they output, provided they want to send me the .srt files (thanks, Google…), the praise – that, I did not expect. In fact, it made me sick to my stomach with insecurity about the quality of my work. So violent was this side-effect, I felt feverish for hours afterwards. Now, I simply have to do better, the next time they send me something.
Far less intriguing is my renewed desire to write and self-publish a short eBook, a work of fiction. The idea for it was first born during a holiday in Bulgaria, in May of 2018. I was sitting in our newly-refurbished dining room, eyes taking in all of the green outside, the whole place aglow with the warm light of the afternoon sun, a cheap plastic pen in one hand and a tattered wire bound notepad on the oak dining table – my only companions. At the time, my mind wandered to a place whereupon first glance, it reminds me of a medieval castle town, but a more thorough investigation, reveals that the place is actually tightly interwoven with the mechanism of an enormous mechanical clock, the timepiece stuck in place for eternity. The hero, an undeveloped firefly, trapped in the amber-like timelessness of a stagnating world, is seeking a way out. The story was and still is, about the challenges of moving on – a theme I am all too familiar with. In fact, the notion of accepting the hand that fate has dealt me is yet another one I have a hard time developing congruence with. The thick certainly plottened over the last month or so, another pot about to boil over, and turn into a work of mediocrity and disappointment. But, I feel like I need to do it, if I am to move on with my life, too. This right here is a public declaration of accountability. The eBook itself will cost something symbolic, but more on that when we get there.
Finally, a horror story sample is also rearing its ugly head in the deepest recesses of my enervated mind. Do I have what it takes to bring it to life by the end of this week? I’ll try. Until then, eat your roasted chicken hearts and make your peas. If politics is getting on your nerves, take a break. I, however, am going back in, always the sucker for punishment.
P.S. I’ve got nothing else, for now.
tsvetoslav shalev 
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