The world is so full of big sadness, that in comparison to wars and earthquakes and diseases this is a very small tragedy. But to me it is like baobabs on the planet of Little Prince.
The city I grew up in has too many stray dogs. They are everywhere. Most of them are not aggressive, many are neutered, they look scared and starving. They have the saddest and the most understanding eyes. Many people are against feeding them, but if we do not feed them, they will just die slowly in the streets.
We had several dogs living near my apartment building. Some of them lived with us for over 5 years. We built a small house for them on an abandoned territory. They were really friendly, peaceful, harmless animals. My mother and several other people made sure that they were healthy, fed, protected from the cold.
Everybody in the apartment building knows each other. Most of my neighbours are bitter, angry, frustrated with the economic situation, politics, themselves... They are always grumpy and always looking for a reason to tell you something mean. And they judge you for doing something the way which is different from theirs. Like for seeing value in a dog's life. They project their hatred on somebody who is weaker, and often this weaker in Ukraine is a dog - completely defenceless.
It is a small war, which has been going on for years. And unfortunately it shapes your reality, it creates atmosphere of hostility. To some people it might not seem like a serious issue, but to me it is a question of baobabs and a rose. It is a silent everyday fight against heartlessness and cruelty.
In the past weeks my neighbours killed all the dogs we rescued and cared for during the past years. It is a small tragedy, really. Maybe even not worth anybody's attention. But somehow it really hurts me. Perhaps because dogs unlike people do not kill or torture someone in order to fill the emptiness of one's life. Perhaps because through all the years, whenever I went back to see my parents, I could relate to the scared, powerless animals, who remembered me even after a year of not seeing, who accompanied me to bus stations and stores and post office, who were always happy to meet me again, I could honestly relate to them more than I will ever be able to relate to the majority of my neighbours who either killed them or silently agreed with the right of killing the ones unable to defend themselves.
The Genius Of The Crowd
there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day
and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace
those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love
beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect
like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
their finest art