On the occasion of the political suffering of the Bulgarians today, 30 years ago, the great Stanislav Stratiev wrote:
"I don't want to be Veneta anymore"
„My dear Veneto, know that after my Fatherland I loved you the most…“
Hristo Botev
I already wrote about it once.
Naturally, no one paid any attention to me.
That is why I am writing again now.
The third time I just won't vote. For no one.
I am an ordinary Bulgarian citizen.
Of those who are millions. The so-called people.
I work, study, reproduce, die.
I declare that I no longer want to be Veneta.
They always love me the most, but then something else.
After the Fatherland.
After the Party.
After the Friendship.
After the victory of the proletariat all over the world.
After collectivization.
After the Pernik-Voluyak line.
After Kremikovtsi.
After building communism.
After the collapse of communism.
After democracy.
After the budget.
After the reform.
After the International Monetary Fund.
After the market economy.
After the strikes.
After the election.
During this time my life expired.
And my children's.
In addition to not living, it turns out that no one really loved us.
And let's not talk about the “most” that Botev writes.
If someone claims to love me, let them love me before everything else.
Or at least simultaneously.
Otherwise I won't love him either.
I stop being Veneta anymore.