I am an actor and a writer. I began to write since the pandemic began back in March of notorious 2020. I've crossed the South of the US on my bicycle and went home to Ukraine for 4 months. I have a lot to say, so let's begin.
When Jesus didn't answer me.
I was standing alone in a desert. It was windy and dark. The sun had already gone over the horizon, and night had come down to face me. By then I understood that darkness is inevitable and that we are only passing through as guests. I could only spot a few specific lights in this seemingly abandoned little town. Hopefully, there was someone to help me find a place where I could spend the night. My first stop was usually a fire station.
Extra angry on a top.
"Oleg, table nine left, no pay!"- I hear my manager's mom saying with a Vietnamese accent. "Okay, and what type of rice do you want with that? Steamed? Ok. Sriracha? Sure. Twelve packets of it? Sure(I had to squeeze that one out of me). How long will it take? Ten-twelve minutes. See you then, bye." And they say that there is no service in taking out. It blows my brains out how much service I have to do during some of these take-outs, and this is our future. "Oleg, table for four."-said M. showing four fingers.
Kurgan. Memories of love.
1. Mother. Woods. My mother and I were slowly walking on a hill that looked down on this small Ukrainian town’s local stadium, which resembled a small amphitheater. Inside the stadium, there was a track filled with students from a local high school running in circles.
Growing up as a teenager in a small town in Ukraine meant for me, that I have two roads. To put it simply it was either to do sports or to do drugs. Every day, after the gym, where I’d been practicing judo since I was ten years old I would take the same road home. Tired or not, it was hard to get lost in it. All I had to do was keep going in a straight line.
Facing "Ethical nazism"
Early this morning, after dealing with our cat's nausea episode and cleaning up consequences, I went back to bed, hoping to enter the dreamland again. I thought an article or two would help my body to relax and doze off. Oh, well, I signed up for a ride and it made some noise in my head.
Neon Genesis Evangelion
I remember the time, when I was in the middle of my teens, which was about 15 years ago. The world would get to real sometimes, too physical in my case and I wanted to be a hero, a hero in my father's eyes and others, who were dear to me. It was my phantasy, my escape, my dream. It was that time when I saw those characters in splendid costumes, teenage boys and girls, fighting with fiery eyes full of vigilant piercing determination to destroy everything that lies in their way, mainly giant monsters, called angels, but never got an opportunity to watch it. About ten days ago, thanks to my friend's advice I finally did see it. If there are robots, a dystopian world, beautiful girls, guys, school uniforms, the concept of which I could relate to still, even remember how much I hated to iron that uniform much less wearing it just because of someone's rules.
the Nature of no of control
It was a rather mysterious morning at the Coldspring, quiet even, Only Fresh air brought by the wind from an endless lake Livingston caressed the nearby trees. This unusually peaceful place gave me time to rest in solitude, simply wrapped by its green-grey beauty and stillness. I needed to keep going, the weather in a place like this could be whimsical I thought, besides I made a promise to myself to be in Houston today.
Out of control
It was a rather mysterious morning at the Coldspring, quiet even, Only Fresh air brought by the wind from an endless lake Livingston caressed the nearby trees. This unsually peaceful place gave me time to rest in solitude, simply wrapped by its green grey beauty and stillness. I needed to keep going, the weather in a place like this could be whymsical I thought, besides I made a promise to myself to be in Houston today.