Thursday, April 9, 2015

Quietly slipped out of the property, threw bold glove to the New York island. I sat in the only ope


I woke up in Manhattan. It was quiet and somewhat natural. The first look is full of idyll - a group of adolescents ducks quietly grazing on the green lawn. All other living still asleep. I looked in the annex, traces of midnight euphoria were removed and two others slept quietly by the door, like a real guard against any attempt to bingeing morning sanitation fresh market efforts.
Quietly slipped out of the property, threw bold glove to the New York island. I sat in the only open restaurant, which like the aquarium exposed me to sglyada every curious passerby. I found myself hopelessly alone, not counting the busy Lupine seeds waitress. I ordered coffee and since it was embarrassing quietly, lost in contemplation of recent experience. What a night only, bathed in teenage adrenaline injected a powerful dose of inhumane national pride. Residual screen of your phone, and I read in the morning posts. Nothing new under the sun, after a night of mayhem in the tavern Strandjata Bulgarians were sobered and as after a heavy hangover lined profanity and disgusting plyumki nihilism. I learned that you have to settle down, because the world is full of talented children and meaningless dardorkovtsi. But I rejoice in the success fresh market of Chris and boldness of Pulev. They reached where 7 million and several hundred thousand Bulgarians will never be. I spent this weekend with 22 Manhattan native talent. Most enjoyed the success of Chris and suffering for the fallen dreams of Kubrat. Bulgarians were real, they hope to remain, and tomorrow, when life scatter them abroad or nominate a driving force in the civil ogruhana country. Phone flickered affectionately to stop spending power. Wrote another philosophical post, I answered a couple of nagging and headed back to Manhattan.
So Bulgarian dream of Manhattan. The dream to escape from the grayness, to climb, to distinguish. As asashtestvenata dream of little Chris or fallen gladiator. As think to call a house guest of sleek New York neighborhood. Why constantly run away from yourself and look in alien worlds? Yes, Krushuna Manhattan will shine, fresh market but there are plenty of beauty and stunning scenery. One unique waterfall that was overrun fresh market by "our" fresh market teen smiles and sealed so selfita in yesterday afternoon. It was muddy, fresh market but beautiful. Just like our country. My young companions fresh market were reckless and daring, climbing rocks and ladders. Like most Bulgarians. Whether glittering Manhattan Island can allow so noisy, happy, expression, stop time party night. Modest Kroushouna Manhattan bear it with dignity.
Vrarnah fresh market in base camp. Ducks have withdrawn displaced by Awaken teen command. The eyes are sleepy, tired faces, but smiles not lost any cause of joy last night. Watching these children grown before my eyes. Each of them is really natural talent. I suspect that all have their dreams Manhattan. After several year will go to study behind Channel, others will aim at us, but very high. Were last night in Manhattan near the waterfall, tomorrow fresh market may be in Manhattan near the ocean. Here physically, but spiritually and intellectually, perhaps, fresh market already past the border that separates the US from Krushunska original replica.
Bus service came and filled fresh market with people fresh market to the folds of the upholstery. And it is not in the glamorous world of Manhattan - to collect 23 sausages in a box of 16. The van was shaking with laughter and humor. A Manhattan is behind us. Another, perhaps, fresh market in the eyes. Nobody knows how far it will take the road. Enough to have youth and dreams.
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