#Selo Bare

[narkonianews]

Put ka Sreći: Bajram Crnovršanin Daruje Zemljište za Bolju Infrastrukturu

Na putu prema selu Zahumsko, naša ekspedicija se zaustavila ispred jedne kuće kako bi se orijentisala i saznala put do Vlade Timotijevića, čije smo imanje nameravali posetiti. Put nas je doveo preko sela Bare, a tada smo primetili da jedan deo puta nije asfaltiran. Na čitavoj relaciji od Sjenice do Bijelog Polja, oko 200-300 metara puta ostalo je neasfaltirano. Put ka Sreći: Bajram Crnovršanin…

[wonyoiz]

Pa-umaga; Jungwon filo smut au 🔞

2.2k words

taglish, cuss words, teasing, laplapan, kantutan, car fun BASTA BASTOS BAWAL SA BATA

You would be lying if you said his last message didn’t make you need him more. Lagi kayong nag ba-bar to unwind before or after a good fuck. Madalas niyong ginagawa ito, for thrill they say. The night would either end well or end with a mukhang-hindi-mabasa written on your face dahil sa selos. Jungwon often wears his black eyeglasses outside which makes him look nerd, pulling girls left and right, and he knows damn well you don’t like the idea of it. Sinasadya niyang pag-selosin ka dahil tinitigasan siya whenever you act possessive. Girls usually think of him as someone who is pure as milk, nerd, and innocent that makes them want to use him. Little did they know that the innocent guy they know is the same guy who’s begging you, dominating you, and of course, fucking you.

He becomes a completely different person the moment he’s alone with you or even just when he catches sight of you. Ganiyan kalala tama niya sa’yo na baka kahit isang haplos lang ng kamay mo sa hita ni Jungwon ay tigasan na siya and you’d always end up getting fucked.

You eventually made your way back to your table, and Jungwon soon followed. The moment his hand rested on your waist, accompanied by a subtle squeeze, it was as if a jolt of electricity coursed through you, leaving you visibly stunned. You’re aware sa kung ano ginagawa niya dahil alam niya rin kung gaano kayo nagtitimpi hawakan ang isa’t isa. Inusog ka niya sa harapan niya at biglang idiniin ang katawan sayo, tangina damang dama mo yung tumutusok sa pwetan mo and it’s hard as fuck. Parang kinikiliti ka sa leeg mo dahil sa hangin na lumabas sa pag-tawa ni Jungwon. He leaned in close to your neck and whispered, “Dama mo?”

Tumawa na naman siya bago idiin lalo, slowly thrusting his clothed dick behind you. “Tigas ‘di ba? Kasalanan mo ‘yan.”At dahil puta ka, you can’t help but let out a soft moan. Umupo agad siya na parang wala lang nangyari. Kitang kita na naman sa mukha mo yung inis dahil sa pambibitin ni Jungwon

As Jungwon sat down, a smirk played on his lips, fully aware of the frustration he was causing you. He casually took a sip from his drink, eyes never leaving yours, as if daring you to make the next move. The heat between you was palpable, and every nerve in your body was on edge, craving his touch and the release he so expertly withheld.

Finally, unable to take it any longer, you leaned over the table, your voice low and dripping with desire. "Quit teasing. Alam mo naman kung ano gusto kong mangyari.”He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence, but the glint in his eyes told you he was far from done playing. "Oh? And what exactly do you want, baby?" he asked, his tone laced with mockery

"Don't play dumb," you shot back, frustration evident in your voice. "You know damn well what I want." He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"Maybe I do," he said, leaning in closer until his lips were just inches from yours. "But where's the fun in giving in so easily?"

You clenched your fists, trying to control the overwhelming urge to drag him out of the bar and into the nearest dark corner. But before you could respond, he stood up, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him.

"Tara na." he said, his voice suddenly serious, leaving no room for argument.

Jungwon's grip on your wrist tightened as he led you swiftly out of the alley and toward his car. Jungwon's grip on your wrist tightened as he led you swiftly out of the alley and toward his car.

The moment the door closed, he was on you. His hands found your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he settled into the driver’s seat. The interior was dim, shadows playing across his face, highlighting the dark, hungry look in his eyes. You could barely catch your breath before his lips crashed into yours, the kiss aggressive and desperate. His hands roamed your body with purpose, gripping your hips, meeting each other's thrusts in perfect sync. Ramdam na ramdam mo yung hulma ng tite ni Jungwon kahit naka pantalon siya.

“Ah.. Kanina mo pa ako binabaliw, tangina.” Jungwon moaned between kisses, his voice rough with need. His hands slid up your thighs, fingertips brushing close between your legs.

“Putangina?” He finally noticed. “Ito ba dahilan?” Walang sabing hinawakan ni Jungwon ang puke mo, slowly rubbing your clit.

“Do you wear skirts to flaunt how much of a slut you are? Kailan mo pa tinanggal panty mo?” Hindi ka na halos makasagot because of the pleasure he’s giving you. Ungol lang ang tanging sagot mo sa tanong niya kaya’t binilisan niya pa lalo ang paghimas sa puke mo at saka pinasok ang dalawang daliri, making you grip on his shoulders tightly.

“Ah.. kanina.. sa cr— Fuck you..” apat na daliri na ang pinasok niya matapos mong sumagot. You can feel every inch of his fingers—neither too large nor too small, but perfectly sized to fit inside you. The sensation is intense, as the fingers press and curl against your sensitive walls, hitting just the right spots. Each movement and touch is precise, creating waves of pleasure that seem perfectly tailored to your body’s needs.

Ang isang kamay niya naman ay pumunta sa baba mo sabay sabi ng “Tongue, baby.” Agad mo rin naman siyang sinunod na para bang you’re made to obey whatever he says. Nilabas mo ang dila mo bago ka niya sunggaban ng halik. Dila sa dila.. he swirled his tongue inside your mouth. Alam na alam niya kung ano ang gagawin, kabisado niya na rin ang bawat parte ng katawan mo and it never failed to impress you. Marami ka nang nakahalikan pero iba si Jungwon. He’s just too good for you.

You moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the intensity of his kiss as your hips instinctively rocked against him, seeking friction. But just as the tension reached its peak, Jungwon pulled back with a smirk on his lips.

“Sa tingin mo laplap lang ibibigay ko sa’yo?” he murmured, voice dripping with dark amusement as he gripped your hips firmly, stopping your movements. You whined in protest, trying to grind against him, but his hold was unyielding.

“Please, Jungwon…” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation.

“Can’t hear you, baby.” he teased, raising an eyebrow as he stared into your eyes, savoring every second of your submission.

Napakagat ka sa labi mo dahil alam mong nang-aasar na naman yung isa, the taste of the alcohol he drank still lingers on your tongue. “Please, just fuck me already.”

Jungwon's eyes darkened, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “Marunong ka naman pala mag-salita,” he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

In one swift motion, he tugged down the fabric of your skirt, revealing just enough of what he wanted. His fingers swiftly and skillfully reached your pussy, tracing delicate circles, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips.

“Fuck, basang-basa…” he muttered, his voice filled with satisfaction as he continued his torturous teasing, his fingers never giving you the full relief you craved. “All because of a little teasing in the bar?”

Tanging pag-tango lang ang nasagot mo sa kanya, barely able to form words as his fingers worked their magic. But just when you thought he might finally give you what you wanted, he stopped, pulling his hand away completely. You were about to speak, but the look in his eyes silenced you.

Without warning, Jungwon unbuttoned his jeans, releasing his hardened length, the sight of it making your mouth water. He didn’t waste any time; he gripped your hips and positioned you above him, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance.

“Let’s quit with the teasing. Kantutin na kita, please..”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You slowly lowered yourself onto him, moaning loudly as he stretched you, filling you up completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that had your head spinning. Tangina, ang laki niya.

Jungwon let out a guttural groan as he bottomed out inside you, his hands still gripping your hips, guiding your movements. “Mhmm- Fuck, ang sarap mo,” he hissed through gritted teeth as he began to thrust up into you, setting a brutal pace that had you seeing stars.

Napapaliyad ka na sa bawat hagod ng tite niya sa loob ng puke mo habang si Jungwon naman ay napapakagat na ng labi as he throws his head back because of how tight you are kahit ilang beses ka na niyang napasukan.

You couldn’t hold back your cries of pleasure as he fucked you hard, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The car was filled with the sounds of your desperate moans and the slick, wet noises of your bodies colliding. His hand found its way to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat with just enough pressure to make you feel even more powerless under his control.

“Nakikita mo ba sarili mo?” Jungwon asked, his grip on your neck tightening as he pounded into you relentlessly. “Halos kilala ka na nga sa uni bilang santo pero here you are.. so fucking desperate for my cock.” Hindi ka na naman makasagot dahil sa pagsunggab niya sa leeg mo, leaving marks for people to see.

“Only I get to fuck you like this, naiintindihan mo ba?” he asked, waiting for your answer.

“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to breathe as the pressure of his hand and the intensity of his thrusts pushed you closer and closer to your climax “Ikaw lang.”

“Good,” his voice thick with lust as he drove into you harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “Because I’m not stopping until you’re begging me to.”

And he didn’t. He kept you on the edge for what felt like an eternity, pulling you back from the brink of release only to push you closer again, until you were nothing but a mess in his arms.

Jungwon looks so hot under you.. na kahit sa simpleng pagtulo ng pawis niya eh nalilibugan ka. You’re riding him pero he doesn’t let you do all the work and that’s what you like about him compared sa mga dating naka fubu mo, mga makasarili amputa sariling libog lang iniisip. You two have been fucking for almost four months already and you would be lying kapag sinabi mong hindi mo siya gusto romantically. Typical lore na nahuhulog sa ka-fubu. Lala ng attachment issues mo par. Paano ba naman kasi, after care niyang ipag-luto at alagaan ka kaya sinong hindi mahuhulog sa ganiyan?

…

And fucking finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, when every nerve in your body was screaming for release, Jungwon gripped your hips tightly and slammed you down onto him one last time, sending you crashing over the edge into oblivion. You screamed his name as the pleasure washed over you in waves, your body convulsing around him as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were completely spent.

With a final, deep thrust, nilabas ni Jungwon ang tite niya bago labasan nang tuluyan, nanginginig pa siya habang tumatalsik sa katawan mo ang tamod niya. He held you tightly against him, his breathing heavy and ragged in your ear.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you too lost in the aftermath of what had just happened. But eventually, Jungwon loosened his grip on you, his hands gently stroking your back as you caught your breath, He gently brushed the hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ears with a tender touch.

Jungwon gently pulled you off his lap, carefully adjusting you so you were seated beside him in the shotgun seat. His touch was now tender, a stark contrast to the rough, demanding energy of a moment ago. At dahil bare minimum enjoyer ka, kuhang-kuha ka na naman ni Jungwon.

He reached over to grab a small, clean towel from the glove compartment and handed it to you. "Here," he said softly, his voice warm and reassuring. "Clean up."

As you finished cleaning yourself up, he took the towel from you and tossed it aside, then pulled you into a gentle hug. Wala na, baliw ka na ata talaga sa kaniya. His arms were warm and comforting, wrapping around you protectively. "Ayos ka lang?" he asked, his tone sincere.

You nodded, leaning into his chest. "Of course."

He stroked your hair, his fingers running soothingly through the strands. "I'm sorry if I got too rough," he said, his voice filled with genuine regret. “Sarap mo kasi,” biro niya, kahit totoo naman.

Hinampas mo siya nang mahina sa braso pero gago kinilig ka lang dahil naramdaman mo ang biceps niya, lumalaki na talaga lalo ang katawan niya dahil sa pag g-gym. Even his chest were much bigger than last month.

“Tara na hatid na kita.”

You smiled, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind his offer. "Sure," you said, feeling a warm glow at the way he was taking care of you.

Jungwon nodded, starting the car with a smooth motion. He drove effortlessly, his left hand resting on the window while his right hand guided the wheel. Occasionally, he glanced at you with a warm smile.

[panimoonchild]

Never believe Russian narratives about Ukraine

Part I

Ukrainians respect the diversity of their people. All form of love, skin color and religion don't matter to us. We are sincere, loving and courageous people. I recently rid of the shadow ban and took part in sng challenge. And of course I couldn't help but talk about the Russian-Ukrainian war. So I will share with you the songs like of ours and foreign artists and the events that fit them or happened that day. Today - Day 14: Piano Guys - Epiphany I can be creative because I thought that it would not be possible to mention us on the day of the wedding song. Fact: well-armed Ukrainian army - Ukrainians are protected and happier. Yesterday - Day 13: Aerothmith - Dream On How lovely, modern Mariupol was. I miss you. I wish I had taken our photo albums with us from Donetsk in 2014. Only memories remain. Tat picture of the last protest for Ukraine in Mariupol makes me devastatingly sad. Wait a little longer, you'll come back to the Homeland💙💛 Day 12: Asking Alexandria - Someone, Somewhere 10th of the March - Day of the national anthem in Ukraine. And my music taste is relatable too. Because lines "Even though I'm on my own, I know I'm not alone / 'Cause I know there's someone, somewhere praying that I make it home" hit close to home. Day 11: Disturbed - The Sound of Silence I barely see any mention of Nikopol that day. That's upsetting. We must keep reminding the world about Russian war crimes. Day 10: Skladno - Azovstal There's were manifestation about Free Azovstal Defenders in Ukraine and throughout the world. Mariupol has special place in my heart. I spent 10+ years of my life on summer vacation there and in the selo (village) of Berdyanske. Two photoes from there save only in Facebook. Others remained only as memories. Day 9: Tember Blanche - Ти живий (You are alive) & Ницо Потворно - Русні пизда Thanks to AFU, I can listen to our artists and live my life. Support Ukraine in the right way - arm us. Day 7: Straylight Run - Hands in the sky I felt broken 'cause Russia corrupted my second hometown basically and traumatized my old childhood memories. Day 6: Туча (Tucha) - russia is a terrorist state Rescueing operation finally ended in Odesa. Russia again killing as many Ukrainian as they can. But that day their targets were babies and kids. Nothing new but pain our people feel are agonizing. Day 5: Карна - Добрий вечір (Karna - Dobryy vechir) Next day after Russian terrorist attack in Odesa. Death toll have been increased.

[argyrocratie]

Two stories of the russian revolution where John Reed and Nestor Makhno recount how they nearly got killed by their own side over a misunderstanding

- - -

-John Reed from “Ten Days That Shook the World”:

The truck hurtled on toward Romanov, through the bright, empty day. At the first cross-roads two soldiers ran out in front of us, waving their rifles. We slowed down, and stopped.

“Passes, comrades!”

The Red Guards raised a great clamour. “We are Red Guards. We don’t need any passes…. Go on, never mind them!”

But a sailor objected. “This is wrong, comrades. We must have revolutionary discipline. Suppose some counterrevolutionaries came along in a truck and said: We don’t need any passes?’ The comrades don’t know you.”

At this there was a debate. One by one, however, the sailors and soldiers joined with the first. Grumbling, each Red Guard produced his dirty bumaga (paper). All were alike except mine, which had been issued by the Revolutionary Staff at Smolny. The sentries declared that I must go with them. The Red Guards objected strenuously, but the sailor who had spoken first insisted. “This comrade we know to be a true comrade,” he said. “But there are orders of the Committee, and these orders must be obeyed. That is revolutionary discipline...”

In order not to make any trouble, I got down from the truck, and watched it disappear careening down the road, all the company waving farewell. The soldiers consulted in low tones for a moment, and then led me to a wall, against which they placed me. It flashed upon me suddenly; they were going to shoot me!

In all three directions not a human being was in sight. The only sign of life was smoke from the chimney of a datchya, a rambling wooden house a quarter of a mile up the side road. The two soldiers were walking out into the road. Desperately I ran after them. “But comrades! See! Here is the seal of the Military Revolutionary Committee!”

They stared stupidly at my pass, then at each other.

“It is different from the others,” said one, sullenly. “We cannot read, brother.”

I took him by the arm. “Come!” I said. “Let’s go to that house. Some one there can surely read.” They hesitated. “No,” said one. The other looked me over. “Why not?” he muttered. “After all, it is a serious crime to kill an innocent man.”

We walked up to the front door of the house and knocked. A short, stout woman opened it, and shrank back in alarm, babbling, “I don’t know anything about them! I don’t know anything about them!” One of my guards held out the pass. She screamed. “Just to read it, comrade.” Hesitatingly she took the paper and read aloud, swiftly:

“The bearer of this pass, John Reed, is a representative of the American Social-Democracy, an internationalist...”

Out on the road again the two soldiers held another consultation. “We must take you to the Regimental Committee,” they said. In the fast-deepening twilight we trudged along the muddy road. Occasionally we met squads of soldiers, who stopped and surrounded me with looks of menace, handling my pass around and arguing violently as to whether or not I should be killed...

It was dark when we came to the barracks of the Second Tsarskoye Selo Rifles, low sprawling buildings huddled along the post-road. A number of soldiers slouching at the entrance asked eager questions. A spy? A provocator? We mounted a winding stair and emerged into a great, bare room with a huge stove in the centre, and rows of cots on the floor, where about a thousand soldiers were playing cards, talking, singing, and asleep. In the roof was a jagged hole made by Kerensky’s cannon..

I stood in the doorway, and a sudden silence ran among the groups,who turned and stared at me. Of a sudden they began to move, slowly and then with a rush, thundering, with faces full of hate. “Comrades! Comrades!” yelled one of my guards. “Committee! Committee!” The throng halted, banked around me, muttering. Out of them shouldered a lean youth, wearing a red arm-band.

“Who is this?” he asked roughly. The guards explained. “Give me the paper!” He read it carefully, glancing at me with keen eyes. Then he smiled and handed me the pass. “Comrades, this is an American comrade. I am Chairman of the Committee, and I welcome you to the Regiment...” A sudden general buzz grew into a roar of greeting, and they pressed forward to shake my hand.

“You have not dined? Here we have had our dinner. You shall go to the Officers’ Club, where there are some who speak your language...”

- - -

-Nestor Makhno from “L’insurection paysanne révolutionnaire”:

Without suspecting a thing, I continued to visit my various relatives at night, thus aggravating the suspicions which now spread to the rest of the village. I didn't know that for a while and everywhere my relatives were questioned about me.

One evening, having pooled money  together to buy beer and homemade vodka, the youths of the village organized a party not far from where I was staying, resolved to seize me during the night to go and kill me in the fields. and bury my body there. They unearthed the revolvers, sawed-off shotguns and sabers they had hidden during the spring events and looked forward to evening.

Among them was my cousin's son, my own nephew, who knew nothing about that plan. The drinks helping, the conspirators began to question him about me and asked him to introduce me to them, supposedly so that we could get to know each other. My nephew dithered as long as he could, then decided to come get me.

The invitation seemed opportune to me, because not being able to go back home, I had decided to organize an insurrectionary vanguard from here. The party was happening across the street, in a large shed, with a large low table in the middle. The youths were seated around it and, to the side, gypsy-style, on a tarpaulin on the ground, were older peasants. The first drank and sang peasant songs. The latter played arba, a very popular card game in Ukraine during the long winter evenings. At my appearance in the shed some rejoiced and others were disturbed. I noticed it, without guessing why. Suddenly, as darkness descended on the shed, one of the older ones shouted, "Guys, give the newcomer some beer!" I had nothing against it, but feeling a tension rising around me of which I did not know the cause, I preferred to refuse. I was then asked to sit down to join in the game. Refusing again, i retorqued in brief and straightforward terms that the peasants and workers had better things to do in the circumstances than to play cards.

The youngsters pricked up their ears, the older ones elbowed each other knowingly, winking and giggling. I didn't pay much attention to it. My speech became more and more militant. I planned to form with these young people a first circle, then to select the most ardent to form an insurrectionary combat group. Focusing on what i was saying, I did not notice that the young people were listening to me with increasing attention, that the others, having left their cards and stopped their stupid giggles, had risen and turned to me with their mouths agape. When I denounced at the end the criminal bands of the Austro-German junkers and the hetman, the bloody reaction carried out against the workers and above all against the peasants, when I enumerated their cruelties towards those who had dared to expropriate the pomeshchiks and the kulaks, and whose corpses were now swinging from telegraph poles, how men were shot in front of women and children to spread terror among the population, the youths, unable to stand it any longer, got up shouting: "Here we only know how to play cards!” The older ones retorqued: "We old fools only know how to play cards, it's true, but yourself, you prefer to get drunk..."

Their voices mixed and they ended up all approaching me, without consulting each other, in turn, smiling at me in silence or speaking in an emotional voice, to shake my hand. Then two of them came closer to me and turned to their companions: "Comrades," they said, "it appears that the comrade here is not who we thought he was and we must tell him." "That's true, that's right" agreed the others.

Then the two men, Korobka and A. Ermokratiev, led me to a corner of the shed where they cleared a pile of clothes. I saw the sawed-off shotguns, revolvers, sabers and bayonets. "This is the armament we have left over from our participation this spring in the Red Guards. These weapons were to be used against you, comrade, because we took you for a spy. We had decided to kidnap you last night, to cut you into pieces to make you talk, then to finish you off and bury you in a field. »

I listened to them calmly at first but could not contain myself for long: a shiver ran through my body, the heat rose to my head. For a minute or two, I remained shaken, then getting back control over myself, I asked them, "How could I attract such suspicion?" They just replied, "Now that we've heard your speech, we don't have any suspicions. We only regret that your relatives were stupid enough to hide the truth from us. It was a close call tonight comrade.” A nervous wreck, I wanted to go back to my dwelling. The ringleaders insisted on escorting me to my door and apologized for their mistake.

[promises-of-paradise]

Felix Yusupov on his attempts to cover up the murder of Rasputin

I slept until ten o'clock. I had barely opened my eyes when I was told that General Grigoriev, the police superintendent of our district, wanted to see me on very important business. I dressed quickly and went into the next room where the general was waiting for me. "Your visit is probably connected with the shots fired in the courtyard of our house last night," I said. "Exactly. My object is to ask you for a detailed account of what happened. Wasn't Rasputin among your guests?" "Rasputin never comes to my house," I replied. "The reason I ask is that the revolver shots that were heard coincided with his disappearance; the Chief Commissioner of Police has ordered me to send him a report as quickly as possible." The fact that the shots fired at the Moika were at once connected with Rasputin's disappearance was extremely alarming. I hesitated before answering and chose my words with care: "Who told you that Rasputin had disappeared?" From what General Grigoriev said, it appeared that the policeman last night had taken fright and had repeated Purishkevich's imprudent words to his chiefs.* I tried to look unconcerned. I was bound by the oath we had taken not to divulge our secret. We still hoped to be able to conceal the true facts. "General, I'm very glad that you came to see me yourself. It would be most unfortunate if a report made by a policeman under a misapprehension were to have any disagreeable consequences." I then recited my story about the dog shot at by a drunken guest. I added that when the policeman, on hearing the shots, had rushed in, Purishkevich, the last of my guests to leave, had gone up to the man and said a few hurried words in his ear. "I have no idea what they were," I continued, "but from what you say yourself, I presume that Purishkevich, who was drunk, must have spoken of the dog, comparing him perhaps to Rasputin and expressing his regret that it was the dog, and not the starets, who had been shot at. Apparently the policeman didn't understand a word of what was told him." My explanation seemed to satisfy the General, but be wished to know who my other guests had been besides Purishkevich. "I'd rather not give their names," I replied, "as I don't want them to be worried by a lot of unnecessary inquiries about something of so little importance." "Thank you very much for the information you've given me," said the General, "I'll tell the Chief Commissioner exactly what you said." I asked him to inform the Commissioner that I would like to see him and would be obliged if he would give me an appointment.

When the police superintendent had left, I was told that Mlle G.** was on the telephone, "What have you done with Grigori Yefimovich?" she cried. "Grigori Yefimovich? What a strange question!" "Why strange? Didn't he spend the evening with you yesterday?" Her voice betrayed her agitation. "Where is he? For Heaven's sake, come and see me immediately, I'm in a frightful state." The prospect of a conversation with her was extremely painful but, alas, unavoidable, and half an hour later I was in her drawing room. She rushed up to me and said in a stifled voice: "What have you done with him? They say he was murdered at your house and that it was you who killed him." I tried to reassure her and repeated the story I had invented. "It's all too horrible," she said. "The Empress and Anna [Vyrubova] are convinced that you murdered him last night at your house." "Will you telephone to Tsarskoe Selo and ask if the Empress will receive me? I'll explain the whole thing to her, but be quick." Mlle G. telephoned to Tsarskoe Selo and was told that Her Majesty was expecting me. As I was leaving, she took me by the arm: "Don't go to Tsarskoe Selo, I beseech you," she said. "Something dreadful will happen to you if you do; they'll never believe you are innocent of the crime. They've completely lost their heads. They are furious with me, and accuse me of having betrayed them. Ah! why did I listen to you? I should never have telephoned to Tsarskoe Selo. You mustn't go there!" Her distress touched me, for it was evident that it was not entirely due to Rasputin's disappearance; she was also genuinely worried about me. "May God protect you," she said in a low voice. "I'll pray for you." I was just leaving the drawing room when the telephone rang. It was Anna Vyrubova who was calling from Tsarskoe Selo to say that the Empress had had a fainting fit; she could not receive me and requested me to send her a written report on all I knew about Rasputin's disappearance.

A short way down the street, I met a friend from the Corps des Pages; he ran up to me, all excited: "Felix, have you heard the news? Rasputin has been killed." "No, really? Who killed him?" "It's said he was killed at the gypsies', but no one seems to know who murdered him." "Thank God!" I cried. "I hope it's true."

On returning to the Grand Duke Alexander's palace, I found a note from the Chief Commissioner of Police, General Balk, requesting me to call on him. The police headquarters were in a state of ferment; I found the General seated at his desk, looking extremely preoccupied. I told him that I wished to explain the misunderstanding caused by Purishkevich's words. I would like to have the matter cleared up as quickly as possible, as I had a few days' leave and was going that same evening to the Crimea, where my family were expecting me. The Commissioner replied that the explanation I had given General Grigoriev was considered satisfactory and that consequently he saw nothing to prevent my departure, but he warned me that the Empress had given orders to search our house on the Moika. The fact that the shots fired there coincided with Rasputin's disappearance seemed, to say the least of it, suspicious. I answered: "Our house is occupied by my wife. She is the Emperor's niece, and residences of members of the Imperial family may not be searched without an order from the Emperor himself." The Commissioner was obliged to agree, and canceled the search warrant on the spot. I was immensely relieved, as I feared that although we had cleaned the rooms last night something might have escaped us, and a visit from the police was to be avoided at all costs until we were sure that no trace of the murder was left. My mind at rest on that score, I took my leave of General Balk and went back to the Moika. On inspecting the scene of the tragedy, I found that my fears were all too well founded. By daylight, dark stains could be clearly seen on the steps. Ivan and I cleaned the whole place thoroughly once again, and when we had finished I went to lunch with Dmitri. Sukhotin came in after lunch. We asked him to go and fetch Purishkevich. In view of the fact that we were all leaving town - the Grand Duke for General Headquarters, Purishkevich for the front, and myself for the Crimea - it was imperative that we should meet and decide on the line we would take if any one of us were detained in St. Petersburg, or arrested. As soon as Purishkevich arrived we agreed, no matter what new evidence was brought up against us, that we would stick to the story I had told General Grigoriev.

And so the first step had been taken; the way lay open to those who had the means of continuing the struggle against Rasputinism. As far as we were concerned, our role was over, for the time being. I said good-bye to my friends and returned to the Moika. When I got there I was told that all our servants had been questioned during the course of the day. I did not know the result of the examination, and although I considered the procedure somewhat arbitrary, yet what I heard from my servants left me feeling hopeful. I decided to go and see Makarov, the Minister of Justice, to try and discover how the land lay. I found the same confusion at the Ministry of justice as at police headquarters. I had never seen Makarov, and took an immediate liking to him. He was an elderly man with gray hair and a beard, a thin face, pleasant features and a very gentle voice. I explained to him the reason for my visit and at his request repeated my story about the dog which, by this time, I knew by heart. When I got to Purishkevich's conversation with the policeman, the minister interrupted me: "I know Purishkevich very well and I know that he never drinks; what's more, if I am not mistaken, he belongs to a temperance society." "I assure you that, on this occasion, he belied his reputation for temperance and broke his pledge. It was difficult for him to refuse to drink last night, as I was having a housewarming. If Purishkevich is usually as abstemious as you say, a few glasses of wine were probably enough to intoxicate him." Then I asked the Minister if my servants would be questioned again and whether they were likely to have any further trouble. They were all very worried, as I was leaving for the Crimea that night. The Minister set my mind at rest: he said that the police would most probably be satisfied with the evidence they had already got. He promised not to allow our house to be searched, and that he would pay no attention to the rumors that were rife. I asked whether I might leave St. Petersburg; he answered in the affirmative and once more expressed his regret for the annoyance I had been caused. I had a strong feeling that neither General Grigoriev, nor the Chief Commissioner, nor the Minister of justice was taken in by what I had told them. On leaving the Ministry of Justice, I went to see the President of the Duma, Rodzianko - a distant connection of mine whom I liked very much. Both he and his wife had known of my intention to kill Rasputin, and anxiously awaited news of me. I found them in a highly nervous state. Aunt Rodzianko kissed me tearfully and blessed me. Uncle Rodzianko applauded my conduct in a voice of thunder. Their kindly attitude encouraged and soothed me; I very much appreciated their sincere and warm sympathy; and at this juncture, when I was going through such an ordeal entirely by myself, it was doubly precious. But I could not stay long with them as my train was due to leave at nine, and I still had to pack. Before I went, I gave them a brief account of the whole affair. "From now on," I told them, "we will do nothing more and will leave to others the task of carrying on our work. Pray God that concerted action will be taken, and that the Emperor's eyes will be opened before it is too late. Such an opportunity will never occur again." "I am sure that everyone will consider Rasputin's assassination an act of patriotism," replied Rodzianko, "and that all true Russians will unite to save their country."

On reaching the Grand Duke Alexander's palace, the porter told me that the lady with whom I had an appointment at seven o'clock was waiting for me in the small sitting room next to my bedroom. As I had made no appointment with any lady, I asked the porter to describe the visitor: she was dressed in black, but be could not make out her features as she was wearing a thick veil. This all seemed very mysterious, so I went straight to my room and half-opened the door which communicated with the sitting room. I recognized my visitor as one of Rasputin's most fervent admirers. I called the porter, and told him to tell the lady that I would not be in until very late; after which, I started hurriedly to pack. As I went down to dinner, I met my friend Oswald Rayner, a British officer*** whom I had known at Oxford. He knew of our conspiracy and had come in search of news. I hastened to set his mind at case. In the dining room I found my wife's three brothers who were also going to the Crimea, their English tutor Mr. Stuart, the Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna's lady-in-waiting MIle Evreinov, and several others. Everyone discussed Rasputin's mysterious disappearance. Some did not believe him to be dead, and said that all the rumors afloat were pure inventions; some, claiming to have it on the best authority, from eye-witnesses even, declared that the starets had been assassinated during an orgy at the gypsies'; others stated that Rasputin's murder had taken place at the Moika. Although no one thought I had taken an active part in the assassination, they were all convinced that I knew the particulars and hoped that, if enough questions were fired at me, I would give myself away. But I managed to look unconcerned, and took part sincerely in the general rejoicing. The telephone never stopped ringing. The whole town believed that I was responsible for Rasputin's disappearance. Directors of factories and representatives of various businesses rang up to tell me that their workmen had decided to form a bodyguard to protect me if the need arose. I told them all that the stories going about were untrue and that I had nothing to do with the matter. Half an hour before the train left, I said good-by to everybody and drove away with my wife's three brothers, Princes Andrei, Fyodor and Nikita, the latter's tutor, and my friend Captain Rayner. When we got to the station, I noticed a considerable force of police. Had there been an order for my arrest? I wondered. As I was about to pass the colonel of the military police, he came up to me and mumbled something incomprehensible in a voice shaking with emotion. "Speak up, Colonel, I can't hear you," I said. Regaining a little self-assurance, he raised his voice: "By order of Her Majesty the Empress, you are forbidden to leave St. Petersburg. You are to return to the Grand Duke Alexander's palace and stay there until further notice."

"I am sorry," I replied, "that doesn't suit me at all." Then turning to my friends, I repeated the order I had just received. They were extremely surprised at the news of my arrest. "What's the matter? What's happened?" asked poor Mr. Stuart, the English tutor, who had no idea of what was going on... Andrei and Fyodor decided to postpone their journey in order to stay with me. We thought it better, however, for little Nikita to leave for the Crimea with his tutor. We took them to the train, followed by the police who were probably afraid that I might give them the slip. A large crowd gathered, staring inquisitively at our little group as it moved down the platform, surrounded by the police. I went into the compartment to say good-bye to Nikita; the police looked more and more nervous. I set their minds at rest by declaring that I had no intention of taking French leave. When the train started, we drove back to the palace. I felt very tired after such an eventful day. I went to my room, asking Fyodor and my friend Rayner to stay with me.

A little later, the Grand Duke Nikolai Mikhailovich was announced. His visit at such a late hour boded no good. He had obviously come to find out what had happened; I was tired and did not feel like going over the whole thing again. Fyodor and Rayner left me when the Grand Duke came in "Well," he said, "what have you been up to?" "Is it possible that you too believe all that nonsense? The whole business is nothing but a series of misunderstandings. I had nothing to do with it." "Tell it to the marines! I know all about it. I know every detail, even to the names of the ladies who were at your party." His last words proved that he knew absolutely nothing, and was only trying to bluff me into talking. I don't know whether or not he believed the story I reeled off once more for his benefit, but he did not want to seem convinced by it, and left looking slightly incredulous and a trifle vexed at not having discovered anything new. When he had gone, I told my brothers-in-law and Rayner that I had decided to stay with the Grand Duke Dmitri and would move over to his palace the next day. I gave them instructions as to what they were to say if they were questioned. All three promised to carry out my wishes implicitly. The events of the night before came back to me with horrible intensity; then my mind grew hazy, my head heavy, and I fell asleep. Early next morning, I went to Dmitri's palace; the Grand Duke was astonished to see me, as he thought I had left for the Crimea. I told him all that had happened since we parted, and asked him if he could put me up, so that we could be together during the anxious days that lay before us. He then told me that be had been obliged, the evening before, to leave the Mikhail Theater before the end of the performance so as to escape an ovation from the audience. On returning home, he was told that the Empress believed him to be one of the prime movers in the murder of Rasputin. He had immediately telephoned to Tsarskoe Selo to ask for an audience. This had been flatly refused. A few minutes later I went to the room he had had prepared for me, and skimmed through the newspapers. They contained a brief announcement to the effect that the starets Grigori Rasputin had been murdered during the night of December 29.

The morning passed quietly. About one o'clock, while we were still at lunch, General Maximovich, the Emperor's aide-de-camp, asked to speak to the Grand Duke on the telephone. Dmitri left the room to answer the call, and returned looking upset: "I'm under arrest by order of the Empress," he said. "She has no right to issue such an order. Only the Emperor can have me arrested." While we were discussing this unpleasant news, General Maximovich himself was announced. As soon as he was shown in, he said to the Grand Duke: "Her Majesty the Empress requests his Imperial Highness not to leave his palace." "Does this mean that I am under arrest?" "No, you are not under arrest, but Her Majesty insists that you do not leave your palace." The Grand Duke replied, raising his voice: "I consider that this is equivalent to an arrest. Tell Her Majesty the Empress that I will obey her wish." Coldly saluting General Maximovich, the Grand Duke left the room.

All the members of the Imperial family who were in St. Petersburg came to call on Dmitri. The Grand Duke Nikolai Mikhailovich came several times a day, or telephoned the wildest, most improbable news, couched in such mysterious terms that we never really knew what it was all about. He always tried to bluff us that he knew all about the conspiracy, hoping by this means to worm our secret out of us. He took an active part in the search for Rasputin's body. He warned us that the Tsarina, convinced of our complicity in Rasputin's assassination, demanded that we be shot at once. He added that this had raised a storm of protest; even Protopopov had advised her to wait until the Tsar returned. The latter was kept in touch with events by telegram, and was expected back shortly. I heard at the same time from Mlle G., that about twenty of Rasputin's most fervent followers had met in her flat and sworn to avenge him. She had been present, and strongly urged us to take every precaution to protect ourselves against a possible attempt upon our lives. An endless stream of callers, mostly inquisitive newsmongers, kept us on tenterhooks. We had constantly to be on the alert lest we should give ourselves away by a word or a look which would have been enough to confirm the suspicions of those who harried us with questions. They were often filled with the best intentions, which made things no easier, and we hailed the end of each day with relief. The rumor of our impending execution caused great agitation among the factory workers, and they decided to form a bodyguard for our protection.

The Tsar returned to Tsarskoe Selo on the morning of January first. Members of his suite said that he received the news of Rasputin's death without comment, and his cheerfulness had struck those around him. Never since the beginning of the war had he seemed so lighthearted. No doubt he thought that the death of the starets had put an end to the bondage from which he had been too weak to free himself. But no sooner had he reached Tsarskoe Selo than he fell once again under the influence of certain of his intimates, and once again his outlook changed. Although only members of the Imperial family were allowed to enter the Grand Duke's palace, we contrived to receive our friends in secret. Several officers called to assure us that their regiments were ready to protect us. They even went so far as to propose that Dmitri should take the lead in a coup d'etat. Many of the Grand Dukes thought that an attempt should still be made to save the regime by a change of rulers. Their plan was to march on Tsarskoe Selo by night, along with some of the Guards regiments. The Emperor was to be persuaded to abdicate, the Empress shut up in a convent, and the Tsarevich proclaimed Emperor with the Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaievich as Regent. It was considered that Dmitri's participation in Rasputin's assassination made him the ideal person to head this movement, and they implored him to complete the good work he had begun for the salvation of the nation. The Grand Duke's loyalty did not permit him to accept these proposals. The very evening of the Emperor's return, the Grand Duke Nikolai Mikhailovich told us that Rasputin's body had been found near the Petrovsky Bridge, in a hole in the ice. We heard later that it had been taken to the Veterans' Home at Tchesma, a short distance from St. Petersburg, on the road to Tsarskoe Selo. When the post mortem was over, Sister Akoulina, the young nun who had been exorcized by Rasputin, arrived bearing an order from the Tsarina and laid out the corpse with the help of a male nurse. She placed a crucifix on the starets' breast and the following message from the Empress in his hands: My dear martyr, give me your blessing, that it may always be with me for the rest of my sorrowful journey on earth. And from Heaven, remember us in your holy prayers! Alexandra

On the evening of January first, a few hours after the discovery of Rasputin's body, General Maximovich came to notify the Grand Duke Dmitri - this time in the Emperor's name - that he was to consider himself under arrest in his palace. We spent an agitated night. At about three in the morning, several suspicious-looking men, who pretended they had been sent to protect us, tried to make their way into the palace through the back entrance. As they could not produce a written authority, they were turned out, and trustworthy retainers were placed on guard at all the palace entrances. The next day, as usual, nearly all the members of the Imperial family forgathered in Dmitri's palace; his arrest was on everyone's mind and was the sole topic of conversation. To take such a step against a member of the Imperial family was apparently an event of such importance that everything else faded into the background. It never occurred to anyone that interests far greater than our own were at stake, and that the future of the country and of the dynasty depended on the decisions taken by the Emperor in the days to come; not to speak of the war, which could only be brought to a victorious end if the people and the Sovereign were united. Rasputin's death made a new policy possible, which would have rid Russia once and for all of the network of criminal intrigues in which she was involved. On the evening Of the 3rd, several men of the secret police turned up at the palace. They had been sent by Protopopov to guard the Grand Duke Dmitri. The latter sent word that be needed no help from the Minister of the Interior, and that he refused to allow the police to enter his palace. Soon after, an other guard arrived - a military one, this time - sent by General Kabalov, Governor of St. Petersburg, at the request of Trepov, the Prime Minister, who had discovered that Rasputin's followers were plotting to murder us. And so, what with Kabalov's soldiers watching Protopopov's spies, we could not complain that we lacked protection. At the outbreak of war, the Grand Duke had given the first floor of his palace to be used as an Anglo-Russian hospital. This communicated with Dmitri's apartments by a private staircase. Some of Rasputin's partisans entered the hospital on the pretext of visiting the wounded, but really with the intention of trying to gain access to the Grand Duke's apartments. The attempt failed, for they were stopped at the bottom of the stairs by a sentry, placed there by the head nurse, Lady Sybil Grey. We lived in a state of siege. We could follow events only in the newspapers or from what our visitors told us. They gave us their views and expressed their personal opinions, but they all seemed chary of taking any initiative, and no one had any concrete plans for the future. Those who could have acted stayed in the background and left Russia to her fate. They were so fainthearted that they could not combine to take joint action.

Toward the end of his reign, Nicholas II was crushed by anxiety and disheartened by his political misadventures. He was a confirmed fatalist, and convinced that it was useless to struggle against destiny. If, however, he had seen the Grand Dukes joining with some of the leading and more loyal politicians in an effort to save Russia, this would have given him the courage and the energy to try to retrieve the situation. But where were the right men to be found? For many years, Rasputin had by his intrigues demoralised the better elements in the Government, and had sown skepticism and distrust in the hearts of the people. Nobody wanted to take a decision, for nobody believed that any decision would be of any use. After all our visitors had gone, we summed up what we had heard during the day, and the result was disheartening. All our fine hopes, all the ideals for which we had fought during the dreadful night of December 29, had come to naught. And we realized then how difficult it is to change the course of events even when one is actuated by the loftiest motives, and prepared to make great sacrifices. Yet we did not give up all hope. The country was with us, full of confidence in the future. A wave of patriotism swept over Russia, particularly in St. Petersburg and in Moscow. The papers published enthusiastic articles, in which they claimed that Rasputin's death meant the defeat of the powers of evil and held out golden hopes for the future. This corresponded with public opinion. Unfortunately the press was not able to express itself so freely for long. On the third day after the starets' disappearance, an order was issued forbidding the papers even to mention the name of Rasputin. This did not prevent the crowds in the streets from giving vent to their feelings. Complete strangers stopped to congratulate each other on the death of the evil genius. People knelt to pray before the Grand Duke's palace, and before our house on the Moika. The Te Deum was sung in the churches, and at the theaters, audiences insisted on the national anthem being played again and again, We were toasted in regimental messes; factory workers gave cheers in our honor. Letters from all parts of Russia brought us thanks and blessings. True, Rasputin's partisans did not forget us either; they covered us with abuse and uttered dire threats. Dmitri's sister, the Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna, arrived from Pskov where the headquarters of the armies of the North were established; she described the wave of enthusiasm which swept over the troops when they heard that Rasputin was dead. They were convinced that, delivered at last from the starets' evil influence, the Emperor would now be able to choose wise and experienced advisers among his loyal subjects to help him govern the country.

A few days later, my hopes were raised by a summons I received from Trepov the Prime Minister, but I was once again to be disappointed. He had been ordered by the Emperor to find out at all costs the name of the man who had murdered Rasputin. I was taken under escort to the Ministry of the Interior. The Minister greeted me in the most friendly way and asked me not to consider him as an official, but as an old friend of the family. "I presume that you sent for me by order of the Emperor?" I asked. "That is so." "Then everything I tell you will be reported to His Majesty?" "Naturally. I can conceal nothing from my Sovereign." "In that case, do you really expect me to admit anything, even supposing it was I who killed Rasputin? And do you imagine for one moment that I would give away my accomplices? Be good enough to let His Majesty know that those who killed Rasputin had only one object: to save the Tsar and Russia. Excellency," I continued, "allow me to ask you a question, to ask you personally: is it possible that precious time is going to be wasted in tracking Rasputin's assassins at this critical moment when the future of our country is at stake? This is her last chance of salvation. Look at the enthusiasm Rasputin's death has roused all over Russia; look at the panic of his partisans. As to the Tsar, I am convinced that at the bottom of his heart he is overjoyed, and expects all of you to help him in his task. Unite and act before it is too late. Is it possible that no one realizes that we are on the eve of a terrible disaster and that, unless there is a radical change in our home policy, the Imperial regime, the Emperor himself' and all his family, will be swept away on the wave of a revolution which threatens to break over Russia and in which we shall all be lost?" Trepov listened to me in silence: "Prince," be asked, "where did you gain such self-possession and surprising clearness of vision?"

I left this question unanswered. This was the last attempt we made to win over any of the high government officials. Meanwhile, Dmitri's fate and mine remained undecided. It was the subject of endless discussions at Tsarskoe Selo. On January 3, the Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich arrived from Kyiv, which was his headquarters as Chief of Military Aviation. On hearing of the danger we were in, he telegraphed the Emperor, asking for an audience. He came to see us for a few minutes before going to Tsarskoe Selo. As a result of his intervention, the Grand Duke Dmitri received the order transmitted by General Maximovich to leave immediately for Persia, where he was to remain under the supervision of General Baratov, who commanded a detachment of our troops in that country. General Leiming and Count Kutaisov, aide-de-camp to the Emperor, were appointed to go with him; his train left at two in the morning. I also was exiled from St. Petersburg. I was to go that night to our estate of Rakitnoe and remain there until further orders. Captain Zenchikov, instructor at the Corps des Pages, and Ignatiev, an agent of the secret police, were to go with me and see that I spoke to no one until I reached my destination. Both Dmitri and I hated being separated. We had grown to know each other better in the few days we had spent together as prisoners in his palace than in all the long years of our friendship. What high hopes we had had!... And all our golden dreams had come to naught! When should we meet again, and under what circumstances? The future was black, and we were filled with dark forebodings. At half past twelve, the Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich came to take me to the station. The platform was closed to the public, and detachments of police were stationed everywhere. I entered my coach with a heavy heart. The bell rang, the engine whistled shrilly, the platform seemed to glide away and disappear. St. Petersburg vanished into the night as the train started on its lonely journey across the shadowy plains which lay asleep under the snow. My thoughts were dark indeed as the wheels thudded monotonously over the tracks.

*when police came to the house after hearing gunshots, Vladimir Purishkevich, who had fired the shot that killed Rasputin, confessed to the truth.

**the friend who had introduced Felix Yusupov to Rasputin

***Rayner worked in the British intelligence service.

source: Lost Splendour by Felix Yusupov, chapter 24

[graceofromanovs]

GODPARENTS OF TSAR NICHOLAS I:

Nicholas I was born on 6 July (O.S. 25 June) 1796 and was christened a little over a week later on 17 July (O.S 6 July) at the Grand Palace Church, Tsarskoye Selo, by the Confessor of Catherine the Great, Savva Isaev. Two of his siblings, his eldest brother and eldest sister stood as his godparents.

ALEXANDER I, EMPEROR OF RUSSIA - the then 18 years-old Tsarevich stood as his younger brother's godparent. Alexander's reign began after the murder of their father, and his rule saw Russia during the chaotic period of the Napoleonic Wars. He often used liberal rhetoric, but continued Russia's absolutist policies. When Alexander died in 1825, he was succeeded by his godson and younger brother Nicholas I.

GRAND DUCHESS ALEXANDRA PAVLOVNA OF RUSSIA, ARCHDUCHESS OF AUSTRIA AND PALATINA OF HUNGARY - the third child and eldest daughter of Tsar Paul I was named as another of his younger brother's godparents. Nicholas barely got to know his eldest sister, as she was married off in 1799 to an Austrian Archduke - Her marriage was the only Romanov-Habsburg marital alliance to date. She died two years later on 1801 at the age of 17. Nicholas would later name one of her daughters after his sister/godmother.

Source

[schoje]

Feriadões antecipados – Santur reforça importância do selo Viaje+Seguro A antecipação de feriados em alguns estados brasileiros na próxima semana, como é o caso de São Paulo e Rio de Janeiro, pode impactar no turismo em Santa Catarina já a partir de sábado. De olho nesse possível movimento, a Agência de Desenvolvimento do Turismo de Santa Catarina (Santur) está intensificando a campanha de divulgação do Programa Viaje+Seguro SC e alertando sobre as medidas sanitárias em vigor no estado. Feriadões antecipados – Santur reforça importância do selo Viaje+Seguro – Leandro “Mané” Ferrari, Presidente da Santur – “Estamos trabalhando mais uma campanha de conscientização para o enquadramento dos estabelecimentos no selo Viaje+Seguro SC e, junto às Instâncias de Governança Regional, reforçando a necessidade de cumprimento dos decretos vigentes sobre a Covid-19. Queremos mostrar que temos regras e essas regras precisam ser cumpridas por todos” – destaca o presidente da Santur, Leandro “Mané” Ferrari. Os estabelecimentos credenciados ao programa Viaje+SC recebem o selo Viaje+Seguro SC, identificando estabelecimentos, produtos e serviços que estão engajados na prevenção da Covid-19, atendendo as recomendações das autoridades sanitárias. Os participantes do programa estão disponíveis no site www.viajemais.sc.gov.br – Nossa orientação aos turistas é para que procurem ambientes identificados com o selo Viaje+Seguro SC, sigam as medidas já amplamente divulgadas, como usar máscara e evitar aglomerações, além de respeitar as demais normativas – completa Ferrari. Vale lembrar que está previsto em decreto a aplicação de multa de R$ 500 para quem for flagrado sem máscaras. Em caso de reincidência, o valor é dobrado. Além disso, os municípios podem estabelecer medidas mais restritivas no combate e prevenção à Covid-19 em seus territórios. Em São Paulo, de 26 de março a 4 de abril não haverá dias úteis na capital. Já no Rio de Janeiro, esse período corresponde ao feriadão em todo o estado. Normativas em vigor Entre as medidas mais recentes no enfrentamento da Covid-19 em Santa Catarina, previstas nos Decretos 1.218, de 19 de março, e o 1.221, publicado no dia 23 de março, estão permitidos: > Funcionamento do comércio de rua, das 8h às 20h; > Funcionamento, das 10h às 22h, de restaurantes, bares, pizzarias, sorveterias e afins, limitado o ingresso de novos clientes até 21h, e permitida a apresentação artística individual; > Funcionamento, das 10h às 22h, de shopping centers, centros comerciais e galerias; > Funcionamento de supermercados, com ocupação de até 50% da capacidade, entre 6h e 22h, com a entrada de até duas pessoas por família; > Permitidas atividades com limite de ocupação de 25%, entre 06h e 22h: – áreas de uso coletivo em hotéis e similares; – piscinas de uso coletivo, clubes sociais e esportivos; – parques temáticos, parques aquáticos e zoológicos; – cinemas, teatros, circos e museus; – confeitarias, cafeterias, casas de chás, casas de sucos e lanchonetes; > Nas embarcações de esporte e recreio a ocupação está limitada a 50% da capacidade, sendo proibido amadrinhar as embarcações; > Transporte coletivo urbano municipal, intermunicipal e interestadual: ocupação limitada a 50% da capacidade do veículo. >>> Proibições: > Funcionamento de casas noturnas, shows e espetáculos, eventos sociais, inclusive na modalidade drive-in, além de reuniões de qualquer natureza, de caráter público ou privado; > Concentração e permanência de pessoas em praças, parques, faixa de areia de praias, balneários e jardins botânicos, exceto para a prática individual de exercício físico; > Prática de modalidades esportivas coletivas de caráter recreativo, competições e afins, com ou sem contato direto entre as pessoas, em qualquer local, público ou privado. > Comércio de bebidas alcoólicas para consumo nos estabelecimentos entre as 18h e 6h; Leia ainda:  Números de turistas estrangeiros no Brasil vem caindo desde 2019 turismoonline.net.br – O portal do turismo, hotelaria, gastronomia, cultura, destinos e viagens – Anuncie aqui: colunaonline@gmail.com

Siga este jornalista e fotógrafo no Instagran: @jeff_severino No Youtube também! Fotos: Divulgação / Jefferson Severino / Assessorias de Imprensa / Arquivos Pessoais Fontes: Assessorias de Imprensa Leia ainda: Dados da temporada de verão em SC são publicados no Almanach Santur Federação de Hospedagem apresenta ações para impulsionar o turismo Feriadões de abril deverão movimentar a rede hoteleira catarinense O post Feriadões antecipados – Santur reforça importância do selo Viaje+Seguro apareceu primeiro em Turismo On-Line.

[prodajanekretnina]

Izgradnja jezera kod sela NakovoOčekuje se da selo Nakovo kod Kikinde do kraja sledeće godine dobije jezero, koje bi bilo deo sportsko-rekreativnog centra i koristilo udrženju ribolovaca. U blizini ovog sela nalazila se do skoro bara, koju Pokrajinska vlada planira da rekultiviše u cilju izgradnje jezera. Realizacija ovog projekta počela je pre dve godine, a jezero je skoro iskopano, ostalo je samo da se iskopa još manji deo kaže Milan Majstorović, predsednik opštine Nakovo. Za rekultivaciju postojeće bare izdvojeno je četiri miliona dinara, a do sada je ukupno uloženo oko 20 miliona dinara na čitavu zelenu oazu, u čijem centru je planirano ovo jezero.    Planirana površina za ovaj projekat je tri hektara ukupno od čega su dva hektara planirana za vodenu površinu i jos jedan hektar okolnog zelenila. Pored pomenutih 20 miliona dinara, koji su uloženi u izgradnju jezera, potrebno je do kraja uložiti još 5 miliona kako bi se završio proces iskopavanja jezera i uredio okolni prostor. Planirano je i realizovanje ribnjaka, ali će pecanje biti dozvoljeno tek kasnije. Osim za ribolovce ovo jezero će poslužiti kao idealno osveženje za sve meštane sela Nakovo i okoline, gde će moći da se planira porodični izlet.   Iako su radovi već uveliko u toku, Korona je ipak usporila realizaciju, a kako se najavljuje završtak će ipak biti tokom sledeće godine. !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1390238495109895'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); Source link

[selenbysl]

NAME   :   selen   baysal

NICKNAME(S)   :   selo

DATE   OF   BIRTH   :   6   march   1994   (29)

PLACE   OF   BIRTH   :   kismet   harbor,   oregon

SIBLING   :   1   older   sister   (dilara   baysal)   &   1   younger   sister

LANGUAGES   :   turkish   &   english

OCCUPATION   :   customer   service   representative   at   the   bank   of   kismet   harbor    &   a   fashion   influencer   with   105k   followers   on   instagram

RELATIONSHIP   STATUS   :   taken   (wanted   connection)

SEXUALITY   :   heterosexual

NEIGHBORHOOD   :   sunset   ridge   townhomes   in   emerald   mist

(+)   POSITIVE   TRAITS   :   confident &   caring

(-)   NEGATIVE   TRAITS   :   naive,   lazy   &   over-thinker

FACECL AIM   :   pelin   uluksar

ooc

hi everyone! i’m dee & i’m super excited to write and plot with you all! i love brainstorming and coming up with new ideas. probably will annoy you a loooot with headcanon ideas lmao so please never hesitate to message me for plotting. (also never hesitate to ask me for plotting on discord too!) ♡ i should probably also mention that english isn’t my first language so please forgive me if i make any grammar/spelling mistakes!

biography (tw cheating)

selen is the second daughter of burak and hande, making her the middle child of the baysal siblings. even when she was little, her love for clothes and fashion was already noticeable as she walked into the living room every hour with the weirdest and funniest combinations. she would grab whatever she could find in her mother's closet and make a dress out of a skirt or even wear a t-shirt as a skirt. there were endless options for her. hande and burak would just shrug it off with a laugh until selen got older, and her wardrobe was barely able to close with all the clothes that she accumulated. especially since the siblings could easily share pieces with each other. but to selen, her wardrobe was her treasure. ever since social media became popular and she got her first phone, she created an account for herself and shared all her outfits, initially receiving likes and comments only from her sisters and occasionally her grandma, who reacted to her pictures with all kinds of emojis. by the age of twenty, she had reached fifteen thousand followers on instagram, making her truly believe that she was going to be big one day and wouldn't need a degree to make a living. this belief caused her motivation to finish college to be pretty low, which was one of the major reasons for the big arguments with her parents. they wanted her to finish college, get a decent degree, and start working somewhere to ensure financial stability later on. selen was just so convinced that big brands would soon be asking to work with her. however, she could never convince her parents. in high school and college, she was pretty much the "it girl," always in the spotlight. however, there were also days when she would come to school only to find out about new rumors about herself. those were the moments when she would get upset, thinking that her parents might actually be right and that she really needed a degree for some sort of stability in the future. she had her first boyfriend in high school; they were best friends at first but then turned into lovers. they had a cute time together, but right after high school ended, so did their relationship. they decided to stay best friends, but they slowly drifted apart. however, in college, she met a guy with whom she had an on-and-off relationship. after dating for a whole year, their relationship became rocky; they had a few arguments about rumors that had been spread around. it turned out that some of those rumors were true. he had been cheating on her several times, leaving her heartbroken. just two months later, they got back together again. she forgave him every time until, just a year after she graduated from college, when she was twenty-seven, she broke things off completely with him. it had been a year and half since she had dated anyone else after him until she came across her current boyfriend. they have been talking about marriage for quite a while now, but it turns out he's the son of a family with whom the baysal's have been rivals for a long time. her parents found out about this and were definitely not fond of the situation, causing a big argument between them. selen packed her bags and left the house where she was born and grew up. she’s now living with her older sister, dilara.

current situation

she has a brand deal going with two big brands but the deal is almost ending and they haven't given her a new contract just yet

she's short on money and is looking for a place for herself but everything is just too expensive and she just can't afford it by herself

has a full time job as a customer service representative at the bank of kismet harbor

has 105k followers on instagram right now (probably bought a few followers tho but that's a secret she would never tell nor admit)

wanted connections

unrequited love

best friends since high school

family friends

once-high school sweethearts but also once-best friends

college ex-boyfriend

someone who has followed her ever since she had less than 50k followers

frenemies

social media besties

her boyfriend (mentioned before he's the son of her family's rival but could also be different, def open for plotting!)

[missingpages]

allow your partner to feel the bad things too: the tampo, the selos, and them missing you. allow them to feel that and then compromise. that's how you validate their feelings, not through words or actions that are barely reassuring. take note...

[nonservataest]

WITNESS (Flash Fiction)

It was my first time seeing blood. It was nauseating. Black spots clouded my vision as sourness reached my throat, threatening a retch. I tried crawling on all fours, inching myself away from the nightmare that would soon haunt me. All dark red sprawled across my bathroom floor like it was all mine, except for the mangled body sitting on my bath tub. An unrecognizable being, barely a human. A few minutes ago, that mangled body was my friend.

“You have the right to remain silent. Any statement you make may be used against you in a court of law in the Philippines.”

I heard a click on my wrist, only to see it bound by handcuffs. Uniformed men grabbed my shoulder and harshly pushed me outside of my apartment. I followed through, staring blankly ahead. I looked like a rat soaked in sewage water in the midst of uniformed people, blinking lights, and passersby who got too curious about what was happening.

It was a warm Sunday night when Sol arrived for a sleepover here in my apartment. Her visit was unannounced, just like her previous visits. Being an orphan with no relatives and no friends aside from her, I craved her presence. Her visits became more frequent when the news of a serial killer in our town started to spread. Wherever we go, we hear warnings from people. They say, ‘You need to be careful. The killer targets young girls like you.’

Maybe Sol was worried because I live alone, but I’d rather have her tucked inside their warm home with her big family than have her worry about me. The chances of the killer choosing me as its next victim are very unlikely.

However, on the night of her last visit, she was acting so strange. Always looking at her back like someone has been following her. I asked her what was bothering her, but she would just joke about how untidy my place was. When the atmosphere has gotten lighter, I bring out the gin and the C2 in my small fridge. I mixed it, and our stories ensued. We talked like normal friends do. Then I passed out.

The next time I woke up, I heard gurgles inside the bathroom, like someone was being choked by a liquid. The bathroom was the only source of light by that time. The slightly opened door created a pattern of light on the floor. I followed it and opened the door wide. I frowned.

A startling painting of Pieta dyed in scarlet gumamela welcomed my blurry eyes. I blinked and blinked. And when it registered, I screamed so loudly that I’m convinced the body in the pool of blood would have chosen to cover its ears. I collapsed right on the spot.

Trembling, I stood up and rushed to Sol’s side. Her body, as if cradled by my small tub, is limp and pale. Her head is bent sideways, her arm dangling on the floor. I tried to fish her body out of the water, but I immediately felt dizzy when I noticed her state. Her face, up to her chest, is badly mutilated. It was halfway skinned to her bones. I backed away and vomited all of the alcohol on my body.

“We have a witness.” Attorney Antonio spoke one afternoon in the courtroom.

“The prosecution would like to call on Mr. Selo Andres to stand.” The old man, lanky and thin, stood and went to declare his sworn testimony. Attorney Antonio, upon being called by the judge, asked the person to introduce himself.

“I am Selo Andres, the owner of the apartment where the murder took place.” I stared at the man carefully enough as I slowly unraveled my memories of him. Nothing comes up. I don’t know this man.

What happened next was a series of incomprehensible defending, interviews, and death threats from the families of the bereaved. I am now branded as a serial killer who has killed, almost ironically, all 12 other victims, who are all females, aged 16–20 years old. My motive? I'm jealous because I don’t have friends, and they happen to be part of big circles.

I wish Sol’s here.

On the day of the final verdict, my mind was in a deep haze. The blood, the mangled body, my apartment, Pieta--- everything has been playing in my mind like a broken record. The ridiculousness of the situation made me so mad and done with the world. I can never commit such atrocities. I am no serial killer! 

“Therefore, in accordance with the law...”

I swallowed the bile of vomit, threatening to get out. I took a deep breath, my insides caving in like a crumbling building. I took another breath, wishing everything would just be suspended in space, time unmoving.

“I hereby declare the defendant not guilty due to insufficient evidence to establish guilt beyond a reasonable doubt."

Right there on the defendant’s chair, I vomited my disgust, my anger, my loss, and my sanity.

The next day, I packed my belongings and went out of the place I had considered as hell. Surprisingly, no one has tried ambushing me. The families of the victims were nonexistent, even Sol’s wailing mother.

I walked past busy cars and busy people as I recalled what happened once again.

A figure was above Sol’s body, strangling her neck. I watched as ‘it’ slash my best friend’s face, starting from the forehead to the chin, and then, as if an afterthought, decided to continue slashing her chest. ‘It’ skinned her face while she was alive, screaming for mercy.

I smiled as I remembered the face of the killer ---- the face that I am currently looking at as I stare on my reflection on passing cars.

It was my first time seeing blood, and I am glad it was my best friend’s.

[radiogornjigrad]

Rainer Maria Rilke: U MRKLOJ NOĆI PONEKAD

  U MRKLOJ NOĆI PONEKAD . U mrkloj noći ponekad bude, da vjetar se ko dijete probudi, i kroz aleje sam pođe tiho, i tiho u selo dođe. I do bare se polako privuče, i onda okolo osluškuje: I blijede sve su kuće, i u hrašću se ništa ne čuje…   Preveo Đoko Erić  

[panimoonchild]

Explore and fall in love with the cities of your country before it's too late; before Russia wants to wipe them off the map

On the 26th day of the music challenge, which is dedicated to love. I want to share some of the once charming cities of Ukraine, some of which have remained so. I regret that I was not able to visit some of them when they were radiating with life. Let's begin!

Bakhmut one was the city of wine and roses but now Russia wipe it off to complete ruins. I can't talk about it. I'm sure you all see hell with Bakhmut in the news. No more words can describe that experience.

Song: Austin Mckenzie - Crazy Beautiful

Melitopol was known as the city of the delicious cherries with a rich aroma and taste before the Russians came. Residents never give up even in the occupation. I hope I will see you in the all beauty of yours.

Song: Halsey - Honey

Izium is famous for its huge strawberries and pine forests rich in mushrooms. After Russia, it was destroyed and tortured. It was here that the most torture chambers and a forest with mass graves were exposed. It has been liberated for a year now. And the town is slowly but surely recovering. It is a long process after the horrors Ukrainians have experienced.

Song: BTS - Love Maze

My hometown. My Donetsk. My Ukrainian Donetsk. I will wait for the blue and yellow flag to fly over you again. And those depressing and black rags will fade from your memory.

In memory, you left only like that. Strong, courageous, welcoming, and progressive. Those characteristics Russia almost sucked it out of you. Unfortunately, when we ran from Donetsk, we didn't take photo albums with us. Only photos from Donetsk and Mariupol I have because some of them were sent by my relatives. Digital copy some of them. That photo of me as a child. I was happy and peaceful to live in Ukrainian Donetsk. Me and my family never forget that we are Ukrainians. Never doubted that. If we don't run away from Donetsk, I'm sure we will end up like my classmate Bohdan Maksymenko in Russian captivity. Because we never hide who we are. My mom almost fought with the parents of her pupils who didn't understand what they voted for in the "referendum". My sister has connections and shares a mindset with Donetsk ProUkrainian artists. Who organized the rally for Ukraine. I could not go to school after that "vote". If I leave there, I am almost sure will end up killing myself. Because I can't live when my identity is not safe. And hide and lie that I'm Ukrainian. No way. It's hurt as hell to imagine. I am always thankful to my mom that she decided and leave everything, even our flat just to keep me and my sister safe and happy. She is strong as steel. Love you, mom.

Song: Антитіла - Завжди моя

Lines that hit close to home:

"You will always be mine,

Like a melody

Of my mother's songs

You will always be mine,

Like my native land.

And I love you from the moon and back!"

That video of the rally for Ukraine on 17th April 2014 in Donetsk makes me heavily tear up. Again.

Mariupol district always leaves beautiful memories from my childhood. This field of sunflowers on the road to selo (village) Berdianske where I had rested with my family until 2013 only now have all the colors of it in my memory come to life. After the occupation and destruction of Mariupol. I have two photos from Berdianske. All the memories remain in my head. I only wish I could visit you liberated and rebuilt and I'll freely run through the field of sunflowers with bare feet. Only wish...

Song: Motanka - Bosymy Nizhkamy

Lyrics that describe the humanized version of Mariupol before Russia are:

"Somewhere in the forest, there was a girl in a wreath

She lured the morning with her charming beauty

She fell in love

And the night of the day is living its last life

With her bare feet, with her bare feet"

Lviv. My second hometown. My shelter. My breath of fresh air and freedom. My cultural outlet.

There I finished high school and university. It's crazy to understand but I have lived here almost 10 years now. When in Donetsk I had lived 14 years of my life. Time is a scary thing.

Song: BTS - Trivia: Love

[holahoy]

Puwede ba ako magtanong? Ang dami ko kasing gusto ifollow up dun sa sinabi mo kagabi kaso gusto ko muna pagisipan dahil baka mamaya di mo maintindihan.

1. Gusto ko malaman ano yung pagkakaintindi mo sa boundaries. Kasi pakiramdam ko talaga kasalanan ko yung nararamdaman mong tatanda kang malungkot dahil walang friends. Hindi ko naman sinabi na icut off mo sila. Pakiramdam ko kasi yung pagkaintindi mo ay mawalan ng communication completely.

2. May kulang ba sakin na hinahanap mo sa kanila? Kaya ba sakanila mo naiisip maglabas ng sama ng loob at magkuwento? Actually matagal ko nang iniisip bakit parang ngayon wala kang nasasabi sakin na nararamdaman mo until kahapon. Iniisip ko na lang na iniiwasan mo ako magoverthink kaya di mo sinasabi. Kaso nung narinig ko na maglabas ng sama ng loob sa iba, feel ko wala akong alam sayo. Lagi ko na lang inaassume na sobrang perfect mo emotionally para hindi makaramdam ng problema. Kaya naging guarded ako magshare sayo. Madalas kay Pat pa rin ako nagkkuwento. Kasi pakiramdam ko ang unfair. Tinatry ko maging open at vulnerable sayo kaso ang weird sa pakiramdam.

3. Medyo natanga ako dun sa sinabi mo na kaya sana gusto mo magka anak para may mapagbuhusan ka ng love and care dahil wala kang friends. Lalo ko naramdaman na kulang ako. Parang pakiramdam ko ako lang yung pang puno ng natitirang space sa love tank mo pero hindj talaga ako yung pumupuno sa majority. Pakiramdam ko nung sinabi mo to parang gusto mo lang akong anakan kasi kulang pa ako. Hindi enough na ako lang. Nakakabano kasi ikaw na yung focus at priority ko. Kahit may mga kaibigan ako ikaw yung priority ko. Ikaw yung hindi ko kayang hindi kikitain kada week. Pag hindi kita makasama para akong malulungkot nang sobra. Kaya ako laging masama ang loob pag wala kang binibigay na schedule para sa atin. Kasi yun na lang nilolook forward ko eh. Kasi nga ikaw yung peace ko. Nahurt lang ako sa nalaman ko na parang hindi pa pala ako enough.

Nung nasa Japan tayo, di naman sayang ung trip pero sana masaya tayo nung last day. And dahil yun sa nag kwento ako about kay Isabel kaya nasira ang mood mo. Ayokong nagiging malungkot ka syempre kaya kung magagawan ko ng paraan maiwasan yun, gagawin ko. I think sabi mo rin na wag na lang akong mag kwento sayo tungkol sa kanya o kanila, okay no prob. Pero kung iisipin mo, pag kinasal tayo at magkasama na tayo araw-araw, paano pag kakwentuhan ko sila? So, ang mangyayari ba eh iiwas ako na tipong may tinatago para makausap sila? Ayoko naman ng ganun. Kung nakaka-feel ka ng threat or selos sa kanila, might as well mag paalam na ako sa kanila or bare minimum interaction na lang. I think may sinabi ka rin before na ayaw mong mawala sila pero ayaw mo ring masyado akong close sa kanila. Unfortunately, nagkataong babae sila kaya ganito even though di issue ang gender sakin kasi parang Bryan lang din ang turing ko sa kanila. Pero syempre pipiliin kita palagi vs them. Pero di ibig sabihin na madali yun para sakin.

Wala naman mali sa sinabi mo sa palagay ko. If yun talaga ung thoughts or nafe-feel mo, then I think yun na yun.

Wait. Baka iniisip mo sa kanila ako nag kukwento ng mga problems ko.

Well, hindi po. Mostly I keep it to myself pero pag super need ko lang ng ibang perspective then saka lang. Like nitong issue kina Isabel. Nag tanong ako kay Bryan kung may experience syang ganun.

Haha oo nga, wala nga akong kino-confront sayo. Pero kasi wala naman akong ico-confront talaga. Ung usap natin last time eh recently ko lang din naisip yun. Also, timing is important din kaya siguro sakto lang nung nag usap tayo.

Actually, di naman sobrang deterrent ng pagka overthinker mo sa capability ko mag open sayo. Kasi sa palagay ko it's a matter of how I approach you with the concern tsaka nandito naman ako to help guide your thoughts or mag bigay ng reassurance.

Hindi ako perfect emotionally, pero wala rin kasi akong issues talaga na nakaka-trigger ng emotional imbalance.

Nakakatawa hehe kasi ikaw lang ang laman ng "love tank" ko. Ung isip ko ang laman ay trabaho at Rica, ung puso ko ang laman ay Rica lang.

Di ko gustong "anakan ka lang".

Rica, sa ngayon di ko ma-explain kung gaano ka ka-perfect sa mata ko as an individual and as a daughter ni Guada. Feeling ko sobrang swerte ng magiging anak natin if ever dahil sa sobrang mindful mo, maasikaso, matalino, matapang. Sobrang galing mo lang talaga in general.

Shet talaga, kung may pwede akong itaga sa bato, ito na yun. 100% confident. Alam kong sisimangot ka lang pero ilalaban ko yan hanggang hukay hahaha!

In my mind, ganito: Kung ikaw, para sa akin ay kumpleto na, what more kung may isa pang tao na mag mamahal sa akin? As in, feeling ko nag uumapaw na ako sa saya. At ikaw na mahal na mahal ko, deserve mo lahat ng magagandang bagay sa mundo. Hihindi ba ako kung may isa pang tao na mag mamahal ng lubusan sayo? Feeling ko bubuhusan ka lang namin palagi ng saya at pag mamahal.

[bulgariastreets]

A Response to Disraeli

A Response to Disraeli, Elliot’s Conduct, and Bulgaria’s Present State

Challenging Exaggerations Dissecting Disraeli’s Claims

In the aftermath of a harrowing journey through Bulgaria, a pause to address the assertions of Mr. Disraeli seems pertinent. His persistent denial of atrocities hinges on specific details, such as the absence of evidence for heads carted through Philippopolis or the incineration of forty young girls at Novi-Selo. However, the focus here will unravel the immateriality of these specifics in the face of broader tragedies.

Tamboli’s Untold Tale Unveiling the Unseen Horrors

One particular instance that challenges Disraeli’s narrative lies in Tamboli, a place unexplored by Mr. Baring at the time of his telegraphed assertions. Delving into the realities of Tamboli, conversations with the Italian Consul at Burgas, who operates a commercial establishment there, could potentially reshape the narrative. The unseen horrors lurking in Tamboli may hold the key to unraveling the extent of the atrocities that Disraeli deems exaggerated Balkan Tours.

Elliot’s Role Scrutinizing Diplomatic Conduct

Simultaneously, the conduct of Sir Henry Elliot, the British Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, warrants scrutiny. A diplomatic figure of great influence, Elliot’s actions or lack thereof during these tumultuous times could significantly impact the narrative. Exploring the nuances of his engagement and response to the unfolding crises may shed light on the complexities of diplomatic maneuvering in the face of humanitarian crises.

Bulgaria’s Present Struggles A Glimpse Beyond Atrocities

Amidst the debates and denials, the present condition of Bulgaria cannot be overlooked. Beyond the horrors of the reported atrocities, the country grapples with its own set of challenges. A brief exploration of the current state of Bulgaria serves not only as a contextual backdrop to the unfolding events but also as a reminder that the aftermath of such crises extends beyond the immediate brutality.

A Call for a Holistic Perspective Moving Beyond Specifics

In essence, this exploration seeks to foster a holistic understanding of the events transpiring in Bulgaria. While Disraeli fixates on specific details to dismiss the broader narrative, Tamboli’s untold tale and Elliot’s diplomatic role beckon a deeper examination. Beyond the confines of exaggerations, the present struggles of Bulgaria beckon our attention, reminding us that the impact of such crises reverberates far beyond the atrocities that capture our headlines.

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A Response to Disraeli

A Response to Disraeli, Elliot’s Conduct, and Bulgaria’s Present State

Challenging Exaggerations Dissecting Disraeli’s Claims

In the aftermath of a harrowing journey through Bulgaria, a pause to address the assertions of Mr. Disraeli seems pertinent. His persistent denial of atrocities hinges on specific details, such as the absence of evidence for heads carted through Philippopolis or the incineration of forty young girls at Novi-Selo. However, the focus here will unravel the immateriality of these specifics in the face of broader tragedies.

Tamboli’s Untold Tale Unveiling the Unseen Horrors

One particular instance that challenges Disraeli’s narrative lies in Tamboli, a place unexplored by Mr. Baring at the time of his telegraphed assertions. Delving into the realities of Tamboli, conversations with the Italian Consul at Burgas, who operates a commercial establishment there, could potentially reshape the narrative. The unseen horrors lurking in Tamboli may hold the key to unraveling the extent of the atrocities that Disraeli deems exaggerated Balkan Tours.

Elliot’s Role Scrutinizing Diplomatic Conduct

Simultaneously, the conduct of Sir Henry Elliot, the British Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, warrants scrutiny. A diplomatic figure of great influence, Elliot’s actions or lack thereof during these tumultuous times could significantly impact the narrative. Exploring the nuances of his engagement and response to the unfolding crises may shed light on the complexities of diplomatic maneuvering in the face of humanitarian crises.

Bulgaria’s Present Struggles A Glimpse Beyond Atrocities

Amidst the debates and denials, the present condition of Bulgaria cannot be overlooked. Beyond the horrors of the reported atrocities, the country grapples with its own set of challenges. A brief exploration of the current state of Bulgaria serves not only as a contextual backdrop to the unfolding events but also as a reminder that the aftermath of such crises extends beyond the immediate brutality.

A Call for a Holistic Perspective Moving Beyond Specifics

In essence, this exploration seeks to foster a holistic understanding of the events transpiring in Bulgaria. While Disraeli fixates on specific details to dismiss the broader narrative, Tamboli’s untold tale and Elliot’s diplomatic role beckon a deeper examination. Beyond the confines of exaggerations, the present struggles of Bulgaria beckon our attention, reminding us that the impact of such crises reverberates far beyond the atrocities that capture our headlines.