If we talk about social standards I have bachelor`s degree in Social and cultural economics from UNWE Sofia and master degree in Media Communication (journalism, advertising and PR) from the university of Plovdiv. During my studies I was part of the cultural exchange programme between Bulgaria and the USA. Now I am a curator & PR at the Regional History Museum Plovdiv.
However this is not important.
Sometimes I am so happy like an innocent kid watching a snowstorm from a frosted window. Unfortunately Plovdiv is a southern town. The snowstorms here are not common. Even if some snowflakes make it through the global warming censorship, they usually are tatty, grey and almost immediately turn into muddy and sticky slush.
I was a probationer at Darik radio, lifestyle journalist at Mylife magazine and an editor at Anonce newspaper. My texts have also appeared in Egoist magazine,Kanape magazine and the bulgarian edition of Glamour.
My first novel called Imago was written when I was 18 years old. My second novel called Paranoia was published in Bulgarian language by LiterNet in 2007. You can also find Paranoia in English but it is my translation. I know that my English usage need quite an editing for the market and Paranoia is indigent of a professional introduction with faultless sample writing but these are services I can not afford or provide.
Grunge & gonzo, emotions & impulses.
It was drizzling softly and continuously for days. The sun came with its fiery kisses and the life blossomed. I like when I lie on the wet grass of the hills. I like when the smell of spring is stronger than the smell of dog dung. Usually I stare aimlessly at the stars until the evening chill drinks the alcoholic intoxication of my burning body. Sometimes I remember the syringes scattered all around and the diseases that are lurking in their thirsty and cold needles. Another time I think of the kids who quite deliberately stick the cold needles in their veins, mixing the synthetic oblivion with their own blood. Right now however I am soaked and prostrated on the grass. It is slow, calm and beautiful. The huge moon is painting silver cobwebs on the grass, ivy and the trees. The birds`s song is mixed with the muted town rumble. And all my dreams are hidden from the vanity of others and mine own imperfection. Is it happiness or freedom? Whatever. It works.
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