out of touch

recently i've been so bad at communicating [deleted rant rant excuses excuses why i'm an ungrateful egoist, but it runs in the family.] i've gone beyond the line where excuses make any sense

but on an unrelated communication note, this is what a bulgarian post office can look like. to specify, this is the customs post office where you (go and queue and queue and wait and haggle until you) get your recommended packages like from amazon. long live online shopping.

another curious observation: english institutions weirdly ask you to post passports as if they were just pieces of paper. i've been slightly worried and excited to see what happens to the documents i sent to the home office in the uk. not in terms of their reply but in terms of will i ever see my national id card again? and if i don't who will find it and pull it through a criminal novel scenario? how many hands will it change? how does an understanding of the 'cultural biographies' of objects (my id card) contribute to an understanding of agency and / or identity in the past / accross societies? time to stay with just that one last question.

sweet short dreams.