‘A friend gave her dress to me. I wore it to the workshop. On April 4th, I wrote a text on the dress, in front. That was what I really felt under the crust of postmodernism, the most stupid things. Then there were Bucha and Irpin, everyone cried a lot. I already told the family and at work that I applied for a visa, it was difficult. On April 5th, they gave me the visa. On April 12th, I wrote the text on the back of the dress, dried it, put it on and left.’
sea of pain
I don’t understand how
to live through all this
human pain
I’m scared to live
in this country it hurts
to be an accomplice
in the crimes against
human being. I love
my homeland but
I feel like a foreigner
like rats
I don’t want to be a runner
[I] don’t want to leave
[I] want to leave out of interest
for the new
opportunities, but not
out of pain, out of fear,
out of necessity
[I] don’t understand how
my own country... [I] lost
identification
[I] want to belong
to love and freedom
life for everyone!