tsvetoslav shalev

He was seized with a thing he’d never known, a sudden understanding of the mathematical certainty of death. He felt his heart pumping down there under the palm of his hand. Who tells it so? Could a whole man not author his own death with a thought? Shut down the ventricle like the closing of an eye? 

– Cormac McCarthy, Suttree

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I struggle to imagine myself a felt absence in anyone’s life but those of my parents. And yet, a yearning to be in someone else’s heart and mind, especially whenever I am not around, runs in the deepest of undercurrents of my psyche. The invisible strings of an amateur puppeteer, pulling my feelings in every and all directions but one – towards a truth. I’ve returned to UK back in mid September, and will soon be leaving for Bulgaria, once more, to winter there. One step forward, two steps back this dance of mine. And all, in the name of being around people who care about me.

I started shaving my head, something unthinkable mere months ago. Tired of being sick and tired – of it thinning, of the inflammation of the follicles I’ve struggled with for close to two decades, of the constant pleading with doctors and pharmacists to find a solution. Still remember vividly the night I took the electric shaver and cut deep with the shortest attachment. My breath caught, as I stood there staring dumbfounded at the line on the side of my head, starting from my right temple to the crown. There was no masking that now. I steadied myself and made another cut. And another. Moments later, a different man stood before me. His, a familiar face. Most of its features intact. He seemed determined, unafraid, accepting of his inexorable fate. So much anguish in a few handfuls of coarse hair, littered the bathroom sink. Free at last, and face to face with my embarrassment; my vanity swept away with quick strokes of a brush and into the plastic general waste bin it went. If only we could do the same with excess body weight..

Here’s a translation of a letter I sent to my high school biology teacher during the summer. For context, she looked after our class for a number of years, including graduation. Had a lot of faith in me, which I made sure to shake whenever I could. We’ve not seen eye to eye since 2006.

…

In situations like the one I’m in right now, I can only hope that “memory will meet imagination, someplace halfway”. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? There were times when I naively thought to myself that in a small town like ours (Tutrakan), everything happens at the speed of the formation of a drop of black molasses. Well, I learned the hard way that the universe has no darlings; that what stubbornly resisted (inevitable) change was my own foolhardy self. I can’t stand clichés, and yet here I am, a victim of the “youth is wasted on the young”.

I would like to say that the last 16 years of my life have passed imperceptibly. Yes, tonight, from my makeshift office, surrounded by indifferent shadows and the music of Franz Liszt, it seems as if everything up to now, was but a dream. The good and the bad and the overwhelming and the barely perceptible – just a single breath. I often imagined how, when I find mmm – the desire? The will? The time? No, more like an impulse! – How I would compose myself and walk down the stairs to school once more. How I would go inside and retrace the steps of a man with whom I shared everything back then (literally), and of whom I now have no clear recollection. A man who attended school with the same energy, tourists without a guide meander with, around the old cities of Europe. A young man who became aware of aspects of himself and his relationships with others, in retrospect, only. An individual with no clear path ahead of him, no specific direction, complicated and complexed by a number of physiological and psychological reasons. So, even if I managed to map out and retrace his every move and guess every “and do you remember that time when..”, the seam in the texture of Space-Time would be quite apparent. Even if I recognized the door that lead to our classroom, find it exactly where I last “left” it in 2006, seemingly static and unchanging, reality, I know, will wash it away, like the swell of the sea that relentlessly erases our footsteps on its sandy shores. Do I need this clarity of recollection? Does everything need to be constantly in focus? Do I want to know? It depends. In fact, too often I react with disbelief, exhaustion and bewilderment when someone points out a positive aspect of mine. Instinctively I expect to be corrected, even criticised; when the opposite happens, I feel confused much like the person who “has something on his jacket” but plain doesn’t see it. You too saw something in me, back then. Moreover, you also managed to show me its shadow.

Tonight, like for the better part of 2023, I’m going to bed early. Because it’s time and because it’s supposedly good for me. And beyond lies infinity. Among the good people who made the effort to educate us, the positive mark you left on that hopeless version of me has proven to be most enduring. While I don’t have much to show for it after all this time, neither in personal nor professional aspects, I can’t be judged for not making an effort. Especially so in recent years. Some of us may indeed be late bloomers. Well, here’s hoping. If you happen to see me on the street, or want to talk to me, by all means do so. One can only get so much out of dialogue with oneself, after all.

Sincerely,

…

And here’s a link to the draft, in Bulgarian.

All of this is to remind you of my troubled existence. While life seems to be spurring me on towards my final checkout rather hastily as of recently, I continue to draft, to graft, to seek in the interim. My efforts end up not too dissimilar to those of a dog chasing its tail. Fortunately, that’s hardly discouraging nowadays. On the contrary – I welcome any and all opportunity to share how I feel. Yes, even more so than what I think about any given subject. And just so you know, I am still working on my short fictional story and on the story for a game not yet in production. Maybe I get to finally self-publish something substantial, after all. Wait and see.