In the next posts, we will meet you with our semi-finalists. We will show you their semi-final’s poem and interview about them and their impressions about Mili Dueli. Also, you will see what they answer on some interesting situations.

Note: Semi-final duels starts in September, 5. We have two semi-finals where we will show 25 authors in each one. So, this is TOP 50 poets in competition where have been presented 545 authors.

FIRST SEMI-FINAL

Mentor:Anđela Turukalo

13. SASHA TOMOF

	SEMI-FINAL POEM:	RET Ret je bio na završnoj godini srednje škole. Sjedio je za stolom, opoganjujući ga: crtajući olovkom. To se nije činilo dovoljno destruktivno. Ljutnja mu je bila mnogo jača od toga. Izvadio je džepni nož i urezao kurac, na sred stola. „… jednako je 274 kvadratnih metara“ -učitelj je monotono mrmljao, okrenut prema tabli. Ne haje Ret za to što se događa iza njega. “274 kvadratna metra …”, ponovio je tiho- sebi. „To ne može biti život! Jednostavno ne mogu “, Ret je vikao u svojim mislima. Ali, izraz mu se nikada nije mijenjao – namršten i ledeno hladan. “Biću neko, uradiću nešto. Pobjeći ću mašini. Zbrisaću od ovih sranja! ” * Ret je sjedio za svojim stolom, poslednjeg dana pred penziju, zagledan u glatku površinu. Bio je bolestan. Otišao je u toalet i pljusnuo se ledenom vodom. Nagnuo se snažno nad umivaonik. Gledao je kolege koje su pušile odmah pored pisoara. „Kao u jebenoj srednjoj školi“ -Ret je pomislio. Odjednom je osjetio potrebu da uzme olovku i nacrta kurac na zidu. Htio je da crta kurac na čelu svakog od njegovih prokletih kolega. * Kolege su mu kupile tortu, da proslave njegov posljednji radni dan. Posljednji dan prije penzije. Cijelog dana šaputali su jedni drugima, gledajući ga. Okupljajući se oko aparata za vodu, razgovarajući ležerno, pretvarajući se da taj dan nije ništa posebno. Kao da će ga stvarno iznenaditi. Kao da on ne zna za sakrivenu tortu. Kao da ne zna da je to zadnji dan. Kao da ne zna da mu je život gotov. “Dakle …”, ipak “To je bilo to?” Zatim je izvadio džepni nož i započeo poganiti svoj sto: nešto što nije uradio od djetinjstva. Gravirao je kurac na sred stola. RAT Rat was last year in high school. He was sitting at his desk. And vandalizing it – drawing on it with a pen. That didn’t seem destructive enough. His anger was much bigger than simple drawing. He took out his pocket knife and engraved a dick on his desk. “… equals 274 square feet”, the teacher monotonously mumbled facing the blackboard not caring about a damn thing happening behind him. “274 square feet…”, he repeated silently to himself. “That can’t be the life! Just can’t”, Rat was shouting in his thoughts. But his face never changed – frowned and ice cold. “I’ll be somebody, will do something. Will run away from this machine. From these shits!” * Rat was sitting at his desk in his last day before retirement. Staring at its smooth surface. He was sick. Went to the restroom and splashed his face with cold water. Leaned heavily on the sink. Looked at his colleagues who were smoking right next to the urinals. “Like in a fucking high school”, Rat thought. He suddenly felt like taking out a pen and drawing a dick on the wall. He wanted to draw a dick on each of his damned colleagues’ foreheads. * His colleagues had bought him a cake to celebrate his last day as a working man. Last day before retirement. All day they whispered to each other looking at him. Gathering around the water machine, talking casually, pretending there was nothing special that day. Like they were going to surprise him for real. Like he didn’t know they had hid a cake in the fridge. Like he didn’t know that was his last fucking day as a working man. Like he didn’t know his life was over. “So…”, he though “That was it?” Then he took out his pocket knife and started vandalizing his desk – something he hadn’t done since he was a kid. He engraved a dick on his desk. ПЛЪХА Плъха беше в последния клас на гимназията. Седеше на чина си и рисуваше с маркер по него. Не му се струваше достатъчно разрушително. Гневът му беше по-голям от едно просто драскане. Извади джобното си ножче и издълба пишка върху чина. „… е равно на 274 квадратни метра”, монотонно мрънкаше учителят, забил поглед в дъската. „274 квадратни метра…”, повтори той „Не може това да е животът! Не може!”, крещеше Плъха на ум. Крещеше вътре в главата си. А лицето му си стоеше намръщено и ледено. „Аз ще бъда някой, ще направя нещо. Ще избягам от тая машина! И от тия лайна.” * Плъха седеше на бюрото си в последния ден преди пенсионирането му. Вторачен в гладката повърхност. Повръщаше му се. Отиде в тоалетната, наплиска лицето си със студена вода. Подпря се тежко на мивката. Погледна колегите си, които пушеха до писоарите. „Като в шибана гимназия”, помисли си той. Прииска му се да извади маркер и да нарисува пишка върху плочките. Искаше да нарисува по една пишка върху челата на шибаните си колеги. * Колегите му бяха донесли торта, за да отбележат последния му ден на работещ човек. Последния ден преди пенсията. Суетяха се около машината за вода и се правеха на разсеяни, все едно наистина щяха да го изненадат. Все едно той не знаеше, че са скрили торта в хладилника. все едно не знаеше, че това беше последният му шибан ден на работа. Все едно не знаеше, че животът му е минал. „Е…?”, помисли си той, „Това ли беше?” След това взе джобното си ножче и започна да драска по бюрото – нещо което не беше правил от дете. Нарисува пишка.
	GENERAL INFORMATION
	Name and Surname	ALEKSANDAR TOMOV (SASHA TOMOF)
	Date and the year of birth	17.09.1983
	Nationality (Write the name of the country whose passport you have in UPPERCASES)	BULGARIA
	Name of the city where you live (Write in uppercases. If you live in the village, write the name of the city that place belongs to, then the name of the village in brackets)	SOFIA
	BIOGRAPHY
	When did you start writing poetry?	In the late 90’s; but it was songwriting back then.
	Which elementary school were you attending? Were you a good student?	135th school. A good student? Not at all.
	Which high school have you finished (or which high school are you attending)?	The National School for Ancient Languages and Cultures
	Do you have a college degree? Enter your academic title, if any. If you go to college, write down what year you are on. If you are not going while planning to enroll, enter which colleges you are interested in! *	Bachelor in PR (graduated from Sofia University)
	Are you employed? If you are: what is your job and where are you working?	Journalist and analyst (Novini.bg)
	BIOBIBLIOGRAPHY
	Books you’ve published:	‘I Quit, My Guardian Angel Is Drunk’ — Short story collection (2009)
	Your poetry awards:	None
	What does poetry mean to you?	Poetry? Sometimes drives me crazy; sometimes saves me from insanity. I can’t say it’s everything – let’s face it – I won’t die without it, but it would be a life a lot less worth living. When I finish a writing and it turns out good, I feel as if I’m on some PED’s. I feel like flying.
	Make a list of your five favourite writers:	Raymond Chandler, Kurt Vonnegut, Stephen King, Charles Bukowski, Hristo Smirnenski.
	ABOUT MILI DUELI
	How did you hear about our contest, and decided to apply?	I read and online article about the competition. Loved the idea. Here I am.
	What are your experiences with the contest so far? What do you like the most, and what would you change?	Loving it! I like the interactions with my mentor, she’s the best. Oh, I wouldn’t change a thing.
	Who’s your mentor? What’s your opinion about her/him?	Andjela Turukalo. As I said – she’s the best there is.
	Were you expecting to enter the semi-final stage as one of the TOP 50 among 545 people who applied?	NO
	Are you expecting to enter the final stage?	YES
	Do you expect winning this competition?	YES
	ABOUT YOU
	Tick the three groups that describe you the most:	talking in front of the audience without problem like to spend a lot of time alone dedicated to what they do
	Tick the three groups that describe you the least:	flexible workaholics always ready for action
	Are you a hunter or a gatherer?	Oh boy… well, I really hate hunting and the word itself irritates me in so many ways. Gatherer, yeah—I would go for a “gatherer”, which can be also explained like this: I gather human stories – it’s my job, and it’s also my hobby.
	What is your definition of love?	Black 47’ Cadillac lowrider hot rod. Now that’s love! Google it—you’ll see! Now – on a more person-to-person level: someone (who has no idea what I just wrote there about the hot rod and) – even though not sharing your interests – is willing to share your passion. Someone who’s there for you and you’re there for them, someone you want to be with – no matter what, not even understanding why. Someone who you think is the most amazing one in the world. Oh, and cheeseburger with fries and Pepsi, and onion rings. That too!
	If you were a plant- which plant would you be and why?	Robert Plant. Why? Because he’s the most adored plant there is. Well, maybe after MJ, but still–
	Somebody gave you an anteater. What are you doing with the gift?	Calling the proper animal welfare NGO to take care of the animal, because it is illegal to own a wild animal. You shouldn’t be giving people wild animals. Seriously… don’t.
	Describe the colour yellow to a blind person.	Hey Johnny, remember that time you said you wanna wait for the sunrise up on the roof? Remember when we got up there and I told you to wait, because it was still dark? And then we waited and waited and all of a sudden you were smiling and I asked you why are you smiling and you said that you can feel the warmth of the sun that was rising? That warmth, Johnny, that’s yellow.
	Tell us something we don’t know about you.	I have my own way of handwriting letters – that only resembles the original ones, basically it’s an alphabet only I can read. And I have a thing about beads – Rosary beads, worry beads, all kinds. I love them. Oh, and I love Snickers—especially the one with extra caramel.
	Make a list of ten things you can do with a pen (except for writing)	Drawings, pulling up your hair, use its cap to whistle, scratch, throw it at someone… That’s 5… Ok – then repeat – that’s 5 more. There you go.