Already Written

I remember watching the footage from Kyiv, probably 2013 or early 2014, hard to place exactly. The Berkut riot police in their gas masks, the crowds not backing down, the fires at night and the chemical smoke during the day. Vitali Klitschko, the boxer, suddenly on the opposition side recording videos about peaceful resistance while his country came apart. Yanukovych making official statements about ruin and danger, the way leaders always do when their people are telling them to fuck off.

What stayed with me wasn’t the violence itself—you get used to that, the endless news cycle of states crushing dissent—but the futility of it all. Klitschko’s pleas for nonviolence when the other side had the weapons. The riot police doing exactly what they were told. The whole thing unfolding like something already written, already decided, just waiting for everyone to live through the script.

I’d watch the videos, read the reports, feel that mix of anger and powerlessness, and then close the tab. Back to work, back to my own small life. The world’s violence doesn’t stop because you witnessed it. You scroll past it, you feel something, and then you move on. That’s the deal we make with ourselves about the rest of the world.