out of context..

“. . . Yet with all these myriad joys going for him, Hank had never in his life been more unhappy and less able to explain why.
Because in spite of all these things so enjoyable, there was something off kilter. He couldn’t say exactly what was off, but after days of denying it he was finally grudgingly admitting that he and the world just were not seeing eye to eye. And it griped him that this was so.”

– Ken Elton Kesey, “Sometimes a Great Notion”


out of context..

“The way of the world is to bloom and to flower and die but in the affairs of men there is no waning and the noon of his expression signals the onset of night. His spirit is exhausted at the peak of its achievement. His meridian is at once his darkening and the evening of his day. He loves games? Let him play for stakes. This you see here, these ruins wondered at by tribes of savages, do you not think that this will be again? Aye. And again. With other people, with other sons.”

―  Cormac McCarthy “Blood Meridian or The Evening Redness in the West”





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.