FRAGILE IS FOREVER

When you break it, and you will, you never forget it

DREAM LIFE

I want to be bored

SMALL TALK

- И кога разбра, че нещата с нея приключиха?

- Когато започна да ходи на фитнес всеки ден. Ти?

- Когато го срещнах.

LOVE AT FIRST HATE

LESS IS MORE

We are more than just friends.
And nothing more than that.

MISSING WORDS

the feeling of being somehow angrily helpless because the love you thought was everything to you is now over and you couldn’t care less anymore. No words for that. Except maybe Congratulations.

ONE OF THOSE VALENTINE’S

I am sorry… It’s not you, it’s me. You see… I thought you were different. I… But you aren’t. So…

Well I guess it is you.

WORD PORN

The path from hero to zero is short. Just one letter. And still - zero is the better word because it’s a number.

C’est la Vienna

AD

there is a Bulgarian word with the same pronunciation. It means Hell. 

СЛЕД ТЕБ

с лед. теб.

FIXING A TYPO

Home is when the heart is.

HABITS OF SUCCESS

I’m shortsighted so when I can’t see sh*t, I imagine it. Works for me.

И ОЩЕ НЕЩО

Усещането да полудяваш от желание да си пушач, за да се усамотиш на балкона и да помислиш на по цигара. И после на ум да си признаеш, че едва ли някога ще пропушиш.

Надявам се има език, на който за това усещане съществува дума. Ще е жалко иначе.

ON LOVE

We are all masochists, aren’t we. Masochists who hate to love in time of peace. It’s simply too hard. It requires balance and humility, and honestly love and caring seem much more natural during war. They blink. They are precious. And we like precious things. Us selectivelly greedy mother f*ckers.

We need to be on the edge, fueled by excitement to justify the most important category of intelligent life - love. We suffer from weak memory and crave for a reminder of what we might lose. Peace can simply not offer such a thing. The hallucination most dear to us is that maybe broken things look prettier than when they were whole. And that maybe if we break stuff we will see how it works. We will make our way to earn some sort of a secret. Toying with this concept feeds our curiosity. Our species is too stupid for peace and harmony. We need the idea of death to maintain our vitals. We are all junkeys.

Where is our sophrosyne?