Life unfiltered
One night, the Russians were attacking Kyiv with missiles and drones. A few hours passed. I was sitting in the office, trying to concentrate on work. Just a few meters away, in a meeting room, my wife and her team were working on a beautiful interior design for some apartment in Kyiv. She’s even working on an online course on decorating amidst the full-scale war.
There’s a war in my country, but we’re planning to have a baby, so we’re renovating the apartment — as fast as we can. We’re even borrowing money to do it. On top of that, I don’t have a military service deferment, so the risks are doubled.
It feels like those are the most stupid things to do in the currect circumstances. It feels like I'm driving a car at the maximum legal speed, just hoping I won’t crash. And yet, I understand that only moving forward makes sense. Whatever you do, some risk is always there anyway — so why hesitate?
Subconsciously, I feel this push to live life in the here and now. As a form of protest. As a higher form of protecting the future. As a personal war against Russia on some everyday level — even if those words probably don’t make much sense.
There are no more mornings when I wake up and don’t have the energy to do anything. Now there are only mornings when I wake up to go to the office and work, relax, make money, spend it, see friends, text friends, walk in the park, look for tasty bread in the supermarket, drink coffee, stop by Nova Poshta, go to the maternity hospital for an ultrasound, watch the sunrise in the botanical garden, visit my parents, go for a 5 km run, and take courses on DataCamp.