For eight years I never went to the Donetsk region. For me, it was home as long as Ukraine was there. I will go back there when it is under Ukrainian control again. Until then I don't want to.

Around March 1, the lights were out, and on March 3, the gas was cut off. We tried to evacuate, but we were turned back, we were told that there was fighting outside the city. We didn't even make it to any of the checkpoints, people were telling each other: "They won't let us out, they won't let us out.”

 Dad got an injury while in Manhush, and he wasn't in the best condition. I think it happened when he was walking with a grocery bag: a missile hit somewhere behind him, he fell down, and when he got up, there was only the handle left of the bag.

It was the morning of February 24. And when my wife got a wake-up call from her father, I just felt déjà vu — all the same for the second time. 

 I don't know how to describe this feeling —  is when they say that the war started in February 2022... We all need to realize that the war has been going on for eight years and it is the case for the whole country.

Now I feel that the victory is ours, but I didn't feel that back in Donetsk. We finally found a home in the Kyiv region and we definitely don't want to start life all over again this time. This is my land, why the fuck should I go?

It's like they took away what had always been mine and said, "That's it, you have no rights, keep out of it.” But I cannot just distance myself from Crimea: it is my birthplace, a part of my childhood, and of my life.

A piece of my soul and heart stayed in Mariupol. And it hurts like a wound because Mariupol is the city of my dreams. And I can't believe that this nightmare happened to it.

I felt that war brought to light the most valuable things because now every day matters greatly in terms of what you spend your time on and exactly what you devote your art to.