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Old November 2nd, 2015, 03:05 AM   #1
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Location: Plovdiv, Bulgaria
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Post Flaws of oblivion

Hello

I must admit that my English is too far from perfect so please excuse the mistakes in this letter!

I am Plamen and I am from Plovdiv, Bulgaria. This February the American publishing house Neverland Publishing released Flaws of Oblivion – an anthology of poetry, prose and photography that showcases the talents of four emerging writers from around the world as well as some of my works.

I am so honored and excited to be a part of this project! Such international initiative is twice as important to me as it is to the other authors. As I said – I am from Bulgaria. It is a poor country and on top of it all the Bulgarian transition to democracy is encountering abnormally severe turbulence. Our market is so limited and sluggish that it destines the new and independent Bulgarian writers to misery.

As I said – my English is too far from perfect. The translation of my prose was tough and desperate act and I truly believe that the interest of Neverland Publishing is a sign! My work with them is like a raft amongst the waves of spiteful hypocrisy and groundless vanity.

I would like to invite you to read Flaws of Oblivion and share your thoughts! You sure know how important the reviews are… And this is my only chance to provoke a miracle, you know, to succeed with my ideas, writing and emotions regardless of the sullen Bulgarian reality. If I deserve it of course but this is something that you can decide.

Thank you either way!

EXCERPT / SYNTHETIC TIMELESSNESS

I am by the window, wrapped in the cozy warmth of my home, watching the winter outside. Plovdiv is a southern town. It snows rarely. And, when it does, the fine white crystals are brutally repressed by the censorship of global warming. Even if some snowflakes make it through, they are usually tatty and gray and almost immediately turn into muddy and sticky slush. The winter beneath the hills is not like the fairyice whiteness that wraps Belegast in Bogdan Rusev’s tales. It is more like the scruffy frosted canvas used by my neighbor to cover his Lada.
Today, however, it is cold…
The TV is vomiting out the national media’s morning broadcast. Some fat gentleman, dressed in shabby gray and ugly brown, is furiously explaining the harm of drugs. His huge jelly cheeks quake with the rumble of a nicotine cough. The skin beneath his eyes resemble calluses full of alcohol. This gentleman is a psychologist and is evidently quite knowledgeable. He is foaming with rage and erudition, expounding that marijuana causes schizophrenia, that cocaine causes strokes, and that amphetamines doom their users to heart attacks. The guy reduces the various drugs to the common denominators of psychosis. He points an accusing finger at the poor standards of living in Bulgaria, standards that attack the family unit,
destroy ideals and unleash various forms of dependence. The gentleman defends his thesis brilliantly and with a great sense of satisfaction. Then he sets off for a glass of rakia at the nearest tavern, his yellowish fingers crumpling a pack of cigarettes with feverish haste. I must admit—the psychologist is, indisputably, right.
So f*ing what?
Late at night when the heavy red wine rinses away the daily stresses and the burning cigarette ends provide an illusory feeling of coziness, it is all too easy and natural to deny those others, those zombies sunk in the white timelessness of the trenches and the ruins. Most people are dependent on legal drugs but this is somehow not an obstacle to seeing an enemy in every underground addict. Our society cannot wait for the next outcry over excise on rakia. Then, to show that they have an active civic position, the true Bulgarian will also bandy slogans against the junkies and the gypsies. “Build a camp!”—they say—“Build it on a remote island on the Danube and shut them up there! This is how our society will help, this is how we will cure the infection… and let’s run a current through the barbed wire!”
Dependence on drugs is not a disease, it is not a virus, it is not something that stalks only the dregs of society. Drug addiction is REALIZED EMOTIONAL DEFICIENCY SYNDROME. The addict does not hunt after psychological euphoria, does not pursue a surge of vital energy, does not seek a chemical frenzy to create crimes. No, usually the dependent just wants to crawl out from underneath the impersonal society of the normals, seeking shelter from the hypocritical mask of the quotidian. The junkie ignites his feelings with ugly synthetic substances, and the emotions that were meant to last for a lifetime burn away in full force in a couple of short years. The dependence on drugs is not an economic problem. It is determined by the horrific emotional recession silting up human societies everywhere. The addictions are derived from an emotional bankruptcy peculiar to our arrogant civilization. The blame lies with every single person. The responsibility, however, is assumed by those with the most emotional natures.
I am still by the window, wrapped in the cozy warmth of my home, watching the winter. It is cold… Somewhere along the dirty ditches of life, lurking on the slopes of the hills, hiding in the ruins of the town there are the children of a whole lost generation. They have sunk their souls in the white timelessness of drugs, wandering about in memories of impossible emotions. And I wonder—do I really care about them and their forgotten fiery visions? Do I take pity on those redeeming everyone’s guilt…

― Plamen Chetelyazov, Flaws of Oblivion

PHOTOGRAPH / COMING BACK HOME



― Plamen Chetelyazov, Flaws of Oblivion

LINKS

Flaws of Oblivion / Neverland Publishing: Flaws of Oblivion Fade by James Wilson, Devon Pearse...

Flaws of Oblivion / Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Flaws-Oblivion.../dp/0988829037

My personal web: Plamen Chetelyazov

The Hippocrene Society: The Hippocrene Society
Thanks from Hollywood
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Old November 2nd, 2015, 03:21 AM   #2
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Quote:
Originally Posted by monkilok View Post
Hello

I must admit that my English is too far from perfect so please excuse the mistakes in this letter!

I am Plamen and I am from Plovdiv, Bulgaria. This February the American publishing house Neverland Publishing released Flaws of Oblivion – an anthology of poetry, prose and photography that showcases the talents of four emerging writers from around the world as well as some of my works.

I am so honored and excited to be a part of this project! Such international initiative is twice as important to me as it is to the other authors. As I said – I am from Bulgaria. It is a poor country and on top of it all the Bulgarian transition to democracy is encountering abnormally severe turbulence. Our market is so limited and sluggish that it destines the new and independent Bulgarian writers to misery.

As I said – my English is too far from perfect. The translation of my prose was tough and desperate act and I truly believe that the interest of Neverland Publishing is a sign! My work with them is like a raft amongst the waves of spiteful hypocrisy and groundless vanity.

I would like to invite you to read Flaws of Oblivion and share your thoughts! You sure know how important the reviews are… And this is my only chance to provoke a miracle, you know, to succeed with my ideas, writing and emotions regardless of the sullen Bulgarian reality. If I deserve it of course but this is something that you can decide.

Thank you either way!

EXCERPT / SYNTHETIC TIMELESSNESS

I am by the window, wrapped in the cozy warmth of my home, watching the winter outside. Plovdiv is a southern town. It snows rarely. And, when it does, the fine white crystals are brutally repressed by the censorship of global warming. Even if some snowflakes make it through, they are usually tatty and gray and almost immediately turn into muddy and sticky slush. The winter beneath the hills is not like the fairyice whiteness that wraps Belegast in Bogdan Rusev’s tales. It is more like the scruffy frosted canvas used by my neighbor to cover his Lada.
Today, however, it is cold…
The TV is vomiting out the national media’s morning broadcast. Some fat gentleman, dressed in shabby gray and ugly brown, is furiously explaining the harm of drugs. His huge jelly cheeks quake with the rumble of a nicotine cough. The skin beneath his eyes resemble calluses full of alcohol. This gentleman is a psychologist and is evidently quite knowledgeable. He is foaming with rage and erudition, expounding that marijuana causes schizophrenia, that cocaine causes strokes, and that amphetamines doom their users to heart attacks. The guy reduces the various drugs to the common denominators of psychosis. He points an accusing finger at the poor standards of living in Bulgaria, standards that attack the family unit,
destroy ideals and unleash various forms of dependence. The gentleman defends his thesis brilliantly and with a great sense of satisfaction. Then he sets off for a glass of rakia at the nearest tavern, his yellowish fingers crumpling a pack of cigarettes with feverish haste. I must admit—the psychologist is, indisputably, right.
So f*ing what?
Late at night when the heavy red wine rinses away the daily stresses and the burning cigarette ends provide an illusory feeling of coziness, it is all too easy and natural to deny those others, those zombies sunk in the white timelessness of the trenches and the ruins. Most people are dependent on legal drugs but this is somehow not an obstacle to seeing an enemy in every underground addict. Our society cannot wait for the next outcry over excise on rakia. Then, to show that they have an active civic position, the true Bulgarian will also bandy slogans against the junkies and the gypsies. “Build a camp!”—they say—“Build it on a remote island on the Danube and shut them up there! This is how our society will help, this is how we will cure the infection… and let’s run a current through the barbed wire!”
Dependence on drugs is not a disease, it is not a virus, it is not something that stalks only the dregs of society. Drug addiction is REALIZED EMOTIONAL DEFICIENCY SYNDROME. The addict does not hunt after psychological euphoria, does not pursue a surge of vital energy, does not seek a chemical frenzy to create crimes. No, usually the dependent just wants to crawl out from underneath the impersonal society of the normals, seeking shelter from the hypocritical mask of the quotidian. The junkie ignites his feelings with ugly synthetic substances, and the emotions that were meant to last for a lifetime burn away in full force in a couple of short years. The dependence on drugs is not an economic problem. It is determined by the horrific emotional recession silting up human societies everywhere. The addictions are derived from an emotional bankruptcy peculiar to our arrogant civilization. The blame lies with every single person. The responsibility, however, is assumed by those with the most emotional natures.
I am still by the window, wrapped in the cozy warmth of my home, watching the winter. It is cold… Somewhere along the dirty ditches of life, lurking on the slopes of the hills, hiding in the ruins of the town there are the children of a whole lost generation. They have sunk their souls in the white timelessness of drugs, wandering about in memories of impossible emotions. And I wonder—do I really care about them and their forgotten fiery visions? Do I take pity on those redeeming everyone’s guilt…

― Plamen Chetelyazov, Flaws of Oblivion

PHOTOGRAPH / COMING BACK HOME



― Plamen Chetelyazov, Flaws of Oblivion

LINKS

Flaws of Oblivion / Neverland Publishing: Flaws of Oblivion Fade by James Wilson, Devon Pearse...

Flaws of Oblivion / Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Flaws-Oblivion.../dp/0988829037

My personal web: Plamen Chetelyazov

The Hippocrene Society: The Hippocrene Society
Eloquent and written better than I can write when English is my native tongue. I think the frost you are talking about over there is called hoar frost over here. You see geometric frost patterns on the kitchen widows with a heavy and hard frost on the ground.
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Old November 2nd, 2015, 03:31 AM   #3
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I forgot to add, "Welcome Aboard".
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Old November 2nd, 2015, 06:02 AM   #4
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Quote:
Originally Posted by monkilok View Post
Hello

I must admit that my English is too far from perfect so please excuse the mistakes in this letter!

I am Plamen and I am from Plovdiv, Bulgaria. This February the American publishing house Neverland Publishing released Flaws of Oblivion – an anthology of poetry, prose and photography that showcases the talents of four emerging writers from around the world as well as some of my works.

I am so honored and excited to be a part of this project! Such international initiative is twice as important to me as it is to the other authors. As I said – I am from Bulgaria. It is a poor country and on top of it all the Bulgarian transition to democracy is encountering abnormally severe turbulence. Our market is so limited and sluggish that it destines the new and independent Bulgarian writers to misery.

As I said – my English is too far from perfect. The translation of my prose was tough and desperate act and I truly believe that the interest of Neverland Publishing is a sign! My work with them is like a raft amongst the waves of spiteful hypocrisy and groundless vanity.

I would like to invite you to read Flaws of Oblivion and share your thoughts! You sure know how important the reviews are… And this is my only chance to provoke a miracle, you know, to succeed with my ideas, writing and emotions regardless of the sullen Bulgarian reality. If I deserve it of course but this is something that you can decide.

Thank you either way!

EXCERPT / SYNTHETIC TIMELESSNESS

I am by the window, wrapped in the cozy warmth of my home, watching the winter outside. Plovdiv is a southern town. It snows rarely. And, when it does, the fine white crystals are brutally repressed by the censorship of global warming. Even if some snowflakes make it through, they are usually tatty and gray and almost immediately turn into muddy and sticky slush. The winter beneath the hills is not like the fairyice whiteness that wraps Belegast in Bogdan Rusev’s tales. It is more like the scruffy frosted canvas used by my neighbor to cover his Lada.
Today, however, it is cold…
The TV is vomiting out the national media’s morning broadcast. Some fat gentleman, dressed in shabby gray and ugly brown, is furiously explaining the harm of drugs. His huge jelly cheeks quake with the rumble of a nicotine cough. The skin beneath his eyes resemble calluses full of alcohol. This gentleman is a psychologist and is evidently quite knowledgeable. He is foaming with rage and erudition, expounding that marijuana causes schizophrenia, that cocaine causes strokes, and that amphetamines doom their users to heart attacks. The guy reduces the various drugs to the common denominators of psychosis. He points an accusing finger at the poor standards of living in Bulgaria, standards that attack the family unit,
destroy ideals and unleash various forms of dependence. The gentleman defends his thesis brilliantly and with a great sense of satisfaction. Then he sets off for a glass of rakia at the nearest tavern, his yellowish fingers crumpling a pack of cigarettes with feverish haste. I must admit—the psychologist is, indisputably, right.
So f*ing what?
Late at night when the heavy red wine rinses away the daily stresses and the burning cigarette ends provide an illusory feeling of coziness, it is all too easy and natural to deny those others, those zombies sunk in the white timelessness of the trenches and the ruins. Most people are dependent on legal drugs but this is somehow not an obstacle to seeing an enemy in every underground addict. Our society cannot wait for the next outcry over excise on rakia. Then, to show that they have an active civic position, the true Bulgarian will also bandy slogans against the junkies and the gypsies. “Build a camp!”—they say—“Build it on a remote island on the Danube and shut them up there! This is how our society will help, this is how we will cure the infection… and let’s run a current through the barbed wire!”
Dependence on drugs is not a disease, it is not a virus, it is not something that stalks only the dregs of society. Drug addiction is REALIZED EMOTIONAL DEFICIENCY SYNDROME. The addict does not hunt after psychological euphoria, does not pursue a surge of vital energy, does not seek a chemical frenzy to create crimes. No, usually the dependent just wants to crawl out from underneath the impersonal society of the normals, seeking shelter from the hypocritical mask of the quotidian. The junkie ignites his feelings with ugly synthetic substances, and the emotions that were meant to last for a lifetime burn away in full force in a couple of short years. The dependence on drugs is not an economic problem. It is determined by the horrific emotional recession silting up human societies everywhere. The addictions are derived from an emotional bankruptcy peculiar to our arrogant civilization. The blame lies with every single person. The responsibility, however, is assumed by those with the most emotional natures.
I am still by the window, wrapped in the cozy warmth of my home, watching the winter. It is cold… Somewhere along the dirty ditches of life, lurking on the slopes of the hills, hiding in the ruins of the town there are the children of a whole lost generation. They have sunk their souls in the white timelessness of drugs, wandering about in memories of impossible emotions. And I wonder—do I really care about them and their forgotten fiery visions? Do I take pity on those redeeming everyone’s guilt…

― Plamen Chetelyazov, Flaws of Oblivion

PHOTOGRAPH / COMING BACK HOME



― Plamen Chetelyazov, Flaws of Oblivion

LINKS

Flaws of Oblivion / Neverland Publishing: Flaws of Oblivion Fade by James Wilson, Devon Pearse...

Flaws of Oblivion / Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Flaws-Oblivion.../dp/0988829037

My personal web: Plamen Chetelyazov

The Hippocrene Society: The Hippocrene Society
Howdy and welcome to you.
Don't worry about your English, it is quite good. Thank you for your well-written and thoughtful post.
I myself am a recovering alcoholic/drug addict and am in agreement with much of what you say. God willing, on the 17th of this month I will have 30 continuous years of sobriety. In my humble opinion drug addiction, and alcohol is certainly a drug, is a deadly combination of a physical malady combined with a physical allergy.
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