Published July 18, 2022
SOFIA, definetly one of the more romantic names for a city.
I had no set expectations for it though, I wasn't expecting Paris but I also wasn't not expecting Paris.
I exited the station to find a dark underworld, I turned left and found a walker, a ghoul, a fucking problem.
I turned right and found a ghostly void.
AHHHHHHHH FUCKING CUNTCUNTCUNT.
On my third take, I found an opening up onto the streets.
As I broke out into the open summer night air of Sofia my eyes focused on the word 'HOTEL' painted in big white block letters on the side of a building across the empty streets. I didn't know if it was my hotel or not, but fuck it, I gave it a try.
HOTEL was my hotel.
I was strangely attracted to the guy at the small reception desk.
Tall and skinny, with a baby face and ruffled boyish hair and what appeared to be a sweet, fragile, feminine soul.
I had none of these thoughts in the moment or even in the days after, it's only now as I sit here at my desk at 4:30 in the morning, in southern England, that I have suddenly realised all of this. I could have actually bent this feminine wisp boi of a thing over and fucked him.
Hmm, cool, nice to know.
I opened the door to my room and found a fine hotel living situation environment
with some exceptions:::
SHIT art on the walls
CRACKED open energy drink can on the desk
BROKEN pen on the floor
DIRTY towell hanging in the bathroom
Quite a few exceptions then
Bulgaria turned out to be just this - both great and terrible. There were many examples of this. I don't feel like going into anymore of them here.
I did like Bulgaria though. It wasn't Paris, but it was something, maybe a tortured Paris injected with ancient septic Russian vodka, maybe.
Each day I walked the streets of Bulgaria, and the streets of Bulgaria were the streets of Bulgaria.
It wasn't until the last day on the way to the airport anything particularly newsworthy happened.
As I made my way to the airport I jumped into a McDonald's and couldn't jump back out again, not yet anyway, not yet unless I wanted to drown. The rain was real bad. This was Singapore monsoon rain, Singapore monsoon rain!
As the rain came down, I sat and watched it.
Then something flickered inside me...
'I want a cigarette.'
I was missing that old constant friend and fiend. Nicotine. A f(r)iend I hadn't tasted in well over a year.
A dirrrrty slut with melted white chocolate dripping over a bubble butt of eternal joy.
To step outside those doors and light up a stick in that rain, protected by thin awning, warm splashes at my feet, flame in hand, fire in mouth, INHALE EXHALE, the lighthead, the warmth, the tingles ~~~|>>>||| [escape],,,---___!;;;
another world farfarfar away...
I missed nicotine. But, I held firm.
I didn't search it out. It was just a flicker. And a rare one.
I made it to the station eventually
through the end of the rain and then to the airport.
And then back to England.
BULGARIA, a favourite? No. BULGARIA, a place to find myself again sometime, for some reason? Yes.