From Darya

 

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. 

Charles Bukowski

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

seeks 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

like hemlock

their finest art