Some time has passed, and I realize I probably should say something. But the words don’t come easily

My state remains the same — anxiety and fear about the future.

This morning I woke up to the news: Poland has closed its border with Belarus. I can no longer go home at least not anytime soon.
During the night, airspace was repeatedly violated from the Russian side.

Every plane overhead, every siren, every sudden noise fills me with dread.

I try to hold myself together with the last threads of rationality. But I also know: anything can happen. Six months ago, I could not imagine losing my work and my social media overnight. Two weeks ago, I would not have believed I would lose a piece of my finger.

Life is unpredictable to the point of cruelty.

I wish I could say that I’m holding on, that I still believe in better days. I wish I could — but today, I can’t.

I swing from one side to the other: from exhausting anxiety and thoughts about survival and sanity — to brief sparks of hope that somehow things will get better.
But I cannot stop the wаr. I cannot reopen the borders. I cannot change the fоrces that poison my life

And yet one thought remains inescapable: all of this is born out of the endless human hunger for power. The pursuit of domination always destroys those who are weaker first. Power, in its rawest form, is a force that consumes everything around it, leaving no space for life.

And perhaps that is why we feel the value of peace, silence, and freedom so deeply — because power built on fear always takes them away first.