Dents and bruises

This week I’ve been cut, sewn, scratched, untoothed, disgusted, shocked, flown, driven, taken, thrown, tanned, moved, rained, swallowed up and digested.
It seems that the whole of it was lined up in a row and I’ve cut through it as if I was on a coaster.
When I’m abroad and when I’m back again I feel a little like Gulliver in Lilliput – sarcasm is really one of the best services I offer and I really like criticizing almost anything (even though I feel the intense remorse of it each time).

I’ve seen: death, betrayal, coziness, dirt, cleanliness, sadism

I’ve felt: panic, intense anger, warmth, uneasiness, joy, pain

I really hope I’m not going to be through such things again. I’m a bit emotionally and physically dented. My bruises will take some time to heal. These things shouldn’t be in a blog actually, but I’m sleepless and there you go. I can’t wait for all of this to pass, so that I can go on being a peaceful and graceful and socially useful ant, simply striving through my daily (calibrated) share of shock. All together can be a little too much. Good night everyone.

Sono nata in Bulgaria e sono cresciuta in Italia. Mi occupo di traduzioni e revisioni creative, pignole e attente alla qualità per importanti clienti internazionali. Vivo in Olanda con il caro D. Lavoro con l’inglese, l’italiano, occasionalmente con il bulgaro.

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