definition..

Half a year ago it was impossible to imagine that there would be necessity to abolish the working day because of possibility of military operations on the territory of my city.

And now the war isn’t just a word noticed by news announcer about country that is located enough far away from the one where I was lucky to live.

Such definition of war is given by wikipedia: «war means to impose your own will to opponent, the conflict between political entities occurring in the form of armed confrontation.»

“War is the continuation of politics by other, violent means” – this wording is given by officer and writer Clausewitz.

Now I have something to tell about this too.

War is to speak with friends about the location of nearest bomb-proof shelters and not to build any plans for the near or the distant future.

War is a necessity to pass by too many block stations equipped with combat weapons.

War means to lend an ear to the least strange sounds.

War means to know that army of your country is shooting at innocent civilian population in the neighbouring town using heavy military equipment and to wait our turn.

War is when there are people who are trying to impose another “truth” with tanks and snipers, trying to impose on people, without concern for the complications, something that goes against all principles, ways of life and values, they want to live with on the land that they love, in friendship with those whom they regard as brothers.

War is when real facts are distorted and all that’s sacred is trampled down.

War is when the people in power haven’t any desire to listen that voice of the masses, which doesn’t help to consolidate a picture of future in their mind.

War is to understand the lyrics of favourite songs on a completely different level.

War is a weeping of your grandma, who in World War II lost her father being a child, hearing the roar of tanks passing by her house.

War is not to hear children’s laughter from the area under your window; it is the rare pedestrians, relatively empty roads and a curfew.

War is when people are burnt in the house of trade-unions in Odessa because of St. George ribbons on their chests and to know that there are too many of those who are happy about this fact.

But there is something I don’t know the definition of.

I wonder, if there is a name for what’s happening when the information is traitorously covered up, while Minister of Defence affirms the need of identification and screening camps and yesterday’s prisoners join the ranks of the Ukrainian army?

Tell me, what it is when Ukrainians are killing other Ukrainians?

I think it is an absurd that is incredible in its monstrous scale!

P.S. I feel as smelly liquid shit. Because while the reality of the modern world hasn’t touched my country, I preferred to avoid that news if there was a probability of loss of composure and nervous balance that could deprive my sound sleep. Patience almost ends, mind is really tired to be in constant tension, trying to understand what is happening around and with all my forces I’m trying not to let hatred inside. But I still have some hopes I won’t tell about.

deeply personal..

Hi, Grandpa.

We haven’t talked for a long time.

I remember you blamed yourself, lying on your hospital bed in a cold ward, waiting for the next operation, that your illness distracted my attention from the entrance to the institution of high education.. You died before my first day in the university and I didn’t have the opportunity to boast of obtained diploma, just ordinary, not with honors, but my own.

I miss you, grandpa. I remember how I was watching you while you were reading a book sitting on uncomfortable couch. Your glasses were lowered almost at the very edge of nose and eyebrows were raised. Then you, for some reason, came back to the first page and started all over again, in fact more than a half of the book has been already read.. Every time I visit a bookstore, I still recall this moment.

I love you, Grandpa. I remember your motorcycle, I remember that I always held fast to you, and my thin hair, fluttering, tangled in the wind.. I remember how we stealthily picked peas from other’s fields, quite a bit, but it was so delicious.. You taught me to swim and to recognize sarcasm, winking whenever you were joking against trustful grandma..

I really miss you, Grandpa.. but today when under cover of new “maidan” and under the guise of national choice one oligarch is replaced by another..

today, when there is a risk to be called a terrorist, if you don’t consider Russia as aggressor..

today, when self-proclaimed authorities are ready to destroy people on the area where you live in order to be able to produce shale gas (if you have no idea what it is I’ll say only one thing – where shale gas is extracted, all living things will disappear), hiding personal greedyplans behind such big words like “revolution”, “patriotism”, “freedom”, “order”..

today, when almost whole world threaten with sanctions for having desire to help fraternal people..

today, when role of the USSR in the victory over fascism in World War II is much underestimated and the generosity of the Slavic people to those, who craved for world domination began to be forgotten..

today, when people are manipulated more often and without any presence of conscience by the false information in mass media..

today, when money can completely change the system of internal values​​..

today, when my town is surrounded by Ukrainian army and we hear a rattling sound of a fighter flying over our heads I should be glad that you won’t know about it, but I really miss you, Grandpa..

I live in Donetsk and..

photo 875

I live in Donetsk and.. in short , it’s the time when I hate reality more then ever before…

I can’t even enjoy that short list of things I like. For example, I can’t read books! But I like to read books, one of my biggest dreams is to have my own huge library. I need to read books in order to forget (at least for a while) about the whole madness that revels in my country for almost half a year. But I open the book, my eyes, running, get to the last line and I need to turn the page but I feel curiosity because I can’t remember what I’ve just read about…

And the thought occurred to me that if it was a book, I mean if everything that’s happening in my country now has ever been described in the book, not a documentary, but fiction one, I’m afraid none of examples of small edition would ever been read to the end, because of the incredible absurdity crying in almost every line, and the author would be torn to pieces by critics and likely found insane.

 

through the veins..

Despite the fact that I don’t spend much time on my little sad blog, I continue to love it. So now I want to share a new note that I found recently: “Did you know there are people-wolves? No, I’m not talking about werewolves. But I’m pretty much sure they exist too. These are people familiarity with whom doesn’t portend pain or frustration until you relax and allow yourself to approach close enough..

But I want to talk about quite different example of human nature.. About those who are always ready to do everything for their own “troop” and those who’ll never be able to spend their own devotion to objects that haven’t natural desire to value such acts and won’t respond in a similar way. Yes, they are not marching in step with the time, because every molecule will rise in revolt and will resist if only somebody attempts to impose foreign truth on them. Live according to others rules is not an option, because to feel like a beast closed in a too small cage by not very attentive zoo worker, has nothing in common with the definition of life that was put in them by nature.”

There wasn’t any date, so I have no idea when these words were written by me. I just know that I always felt great admiration about so smart and especial representatives of the animal world – wolves, as well as I with bated breath watch strong people who know exactly what life they want to live, who always say words they can’t keep inside and never wait for the perfect moment to speak out, who don’t need to read the Bible to know what is right and what is wrong because these definitions are flowing through their veins and stuck in their brain since they were born.

So yes, I know what I meant when I was writing these words..

non-fitment..

What if, with that set of qualities that define your character, some of which are instilled due to people who were around you and your own environment at all in maturing period, others – due to conclusions you draw from reading the books or observed situations, especially those that are not rejected by your own stubborn consciousness and not contradict mental settings, existence in this world is possible, but there is no option to be happy?!.
Just as the efforts of a small child who is trying to push a square object in a triangular hole, doomed to failure.

In brief, total discrepancy..

 

note, summer, memories..

I found a note again, dated 08.08.12 and this is what in it:

“Summer.. You close your eyes and see how you, 10 years old, race barefoot along the dusty road.. or  see how you’re sitting on a tree with an apricot in your hand or splashing in a cool pond and you can even remember how wet hair touched your tanned skin.. then you see yourself with a large slice of watermelon and sweet juice runs down your arms and chin… also you see yourself at the table in front of a huge, as it seemed at that age, grandmother’s plate of borscht… you do remember your own carefree laughter, games and friends, chat on a bench under the sky full of stars, and how you dreamt to grow up faster..
and in those brief moments you feel life again..
I heard that summer is a little life, but it seems that only in childhood.. “

*

I know that these memories have some value only for me but I don’t want to change anything…

knock-out..

A thought was clear when my head rested on the pillow last night, and the sentences were formed without difficulties. I hoped that there won’t be any problems with the transfer of that idea into the paper in the morning.

And now all I remember – is the individual words and phrases, and I had to strain some forces for writing this text.

A plenty of unpleasant moments overload my memory at this moment. I want to speak out, but it’s hard to begin.

The truth is that disappointments and betrayals are accompanying us all our life. The process of overcoming disappointment people have the habit to call – maturing. It is assumed that we have to draw conclusions and learn from our own mistakes, to prevent any repetition of a similar situation in the future.

I don’t know how about others, but this formula doesn’t work for me.

I read somewhere that there is a material that can be crushed and made in any shape, but after a while it returns to its previous state. That’s how I feel. All the experience and every received blow deformed me and my mind, but only for a while.

I know that I’m not a quick learner, who is unable to learn from the past and condemned to repeat it. I prefer to look at this world in the same way as I always do, with eyes wide open, in expectation, that in my life will be people who never have a desire to knock out my, opened for them, soul.

*

And every time I write I doubt that thought is filed correctly, but I can’t leave this inside of my head, so it’s fine…