- The people support the start of the war, the secretary of the Underground Wars said at a press conference about how we’re nobody
- Who are these people? A young journalist marked as a foreign agent
There are expressions like an anticipation of love or anticipation of fortune, have you ever had anticipation of war? I had a strange sensation, a sense of childlike elation along with animal fear. I thought about what this war might give me, and I cut myself off with the thought that it’s not even normal to think about such things, you have to be afraid. And then fear came over me as if it were summoned to a bright stage and there it was, in all its glory, performing its best performances. It’s a strange feeling.
- Pack up, we’re going to the woods to scream with helplessness, said Alice and threw my raincoat on my bed
It’s all Lenin’s fault. Anything else? Yes, Cinderella, until morning, separate what you can change from what you can’t change. It’s funny when a woman talks about how she didn’t know about her man’s cheating, especially when even stray dogs knew about the cheating. Not knowing and not wanting to know are different things. When you have the information, the responsibility is in your hands, you are no longer a victim, and you can make decisions. It’s always easier to close your eyes or turn away, even if someone is yelling behind you. Like you are in a recycling machine, twisting and turning and adjusting to its curves, hoping for good things, and convincing yourself that it’s all a wellness massage. Put the bag away in a baggie bag.
- Yay, we were poor, and now we’re going to be poorer, tweeted the girl after announcing that the curtain had come down
It happens when a tsunami or hurricane comes upon a person, you do not try to run away, you stare mesmerized at the power that is moving toward you at great speed. It’s wild witchcraft. It’s not every day you get to see something like this. Of course, it has a very high price. But if you could stand still and watch this wave come in slow motion, with your heart pounding, and pass by, taking everything in its path with it, but not you. She’s not interested in you today. It’s like a roller coaster when you crash through the air, but you have insurance. You’re one step further from death, just one step, but it solves everything. You’re alive. You’ve won. You got that dose of inexpressible emotion, and yet here you are, going on to another ride where you’ll be hanging head down at great heights, but you’ll be alive again. You’re just lucky. Like that feeling when you stumble and feel like you’re about to fall and break something, but you hold on, like someone invisible has lent you a helping hand and you go on, imagining what the consequences might have been if not for that invisible helping hand. It even hurts you a little to imagine how it might have ended, and then you forget about it and stop being careful again, perhaps secretly hoping for that invisible hand. I knew what was coming tomorrow. It wasn’t intuition or prophecy. It was expected. No one wanted to believe it, it seemed impossible and unnecessary to everyone. Everyone was thinking about themselves and their problems. They were thinking about loans, what dress to wear to their friend’s wedding in the summer, how to spend a weekend, how to name their newly born son, how to sell an old broken-down car, and how to say no to someone who was waiting for a yes, how to find a great idea to make money or how to get away from here. And tomorrow there was the war.
- Saw discounts on condoms, bought several years in advance, 3 pieces, Gerta said on the phone as she walked home past the parade of people with the right values
The goal is to make it to spring and not go crazy. To make money and go away. It is no longer fashionable to be apolitical. You may not be interested in politics, but politics is interested in you. She makes choices that you and your children will have to pay for later. Fear wins. Fear of living in your own country. Fear of passing by or passing policemen who might shoot you because you are suspicious of them. Fear of writing a tweet and going to jail for it because you refused to live by the Supreme Court-approved methodology.
- I’m done, I said, sending messages to all the world’s magazines, asking them to publish my story, and threw my raincoat on Alice’s bed
We are given the ability to choose, but we are not given the ability to avoid choosing. Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged