Democracy the Bulgarian Way by lapis-lazuri, journal
Democracy the Bulgarian Way
WARNING: LONG TEXT AHEAD. NOT SUITABLE FOR PEOPLE WHO DON'T LIKE READING.
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Democracy the Bulgarian Way
Ingredients:
- a bunch of ruthless greedy bastards (we have plenty of those);
- a bucketload of lobbies and financial interests;
- some quality mafia essence;
- a jug of corrupt public media;
- plenty of natural resources to pillage;
- sufficient amount of external parties willing to help pillaging;
- essence of the society's ignorance or disinformation, or preferably both (poorly educated societies provide the best quality essence of this kind);
- we don't use honour,
I didn't know I had depression until I turned around one day and found someone else in the same boat. It had never occurred to me that you could have depression and not know it and after sitting down with myself and having a good long think I came to the awful realization that it's been ten years. Ten. Years.
Ten years of being incapable of feeling the entire breadth of human emotion; only degrees of anger I couldn't control or understand, knowing that I was behaving completely irrationally and being unable to stop, driving away family and the precious few friends that had managed to find me and could no longer hang on to the maelstrom I had
II. Sometimes, it just hurts to be alive.
I read an article the other day, about Highly Sensitive People. It was like reading an article about myself.
I then took a test, to see how I qualified on the Highly Sensitive scale... I got a 22 out of 27... so yea.
It explains a lot, I guess. But it's not really reliving.
On an average day, it hurts to be me.
Idk, I just feel like I'm drowning more often than not.
You know how when you're a kid people are always asking you what you want to be when you grow up?
I only ever gave one answer.
I wanted to be happy.
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The article on Highly Sensit
How To Understand Introverted People by British-Prophetess, literature
Literature
How To Understand Introverted People
It may seem at times I have
Little to offer when it comes
To the art of conversing,
Opting to remain in the shadows
Rather than to put myself
Directly in the centre like most.
Often any type of social situation
Is like a conflict zone in my eyes;
The amount of loud noises bubbling
From the throats of others, it's like
The consistent beat of a war drum.
As for any arguments, I feel as if
I'm caught in the firing line, the
Persistent sense of unease underling
The coat of my stomach triggers me
To turn tail and run for cover.
On the facade I'm a mere lone wolf,
Aloof, wanting nothing more than the
Entire room to lapse into silence.
I place no
They say that every fourteen days, a language dies. The statistic isn't alarming, after all there are supposedly seven thousand languages in the world. That a language dies every two weeks, is just a statistic. The concern comes with the knowledge that a language dies because it has been forgotten. Thus it dies without recognition, without farewell and without acknowledgment. It was merely there before, a communication bridge once upon a literary dream - now a nothing. This fascinating tool that we use to interact with our fellow human beings is lost. And we don't care. The Eskimos, they say, had a hundred words for snow.
That favourite p
The Hydrus (Hydrus nilus) is a species of ichneumon (Herpestidae) indigenous to north Aphrikus.
Physical description
The Hydrus is 4 feet long from nose to tail, with brown fur, and a long, black-tipped tail. Due to it's semi-aquatic habits and sinuous shape, it is often mistaken for an otter or snake.
Behaviour
Agile on land and in water, the Hydrus is a ferocious predator of reptiles, particularly snakes, but also larger reptiles like dragons and crocodiles. Snakes are killed in the usual method employed by members of the ichneumon family. Larger reptiles, on the other hand, are dealt with in a much more gruesome fashion, with the Hydrus