Over this gap, we can talk but drift apart so easily.
Over this gap, we can look into each other's eyes but with a screen between us.
Over this gap, we can cry but we can't heal our most painful wounds.
This gap, it forces us to feel what we've lost, not lived through, not yet fully reflected upon.
Over this gap, the time changes its course, time zones, languages, Latin and Cyrillic alphabets entangled.
Over this gap, we stop converting Belarusian rubles to euro and back.
Over this gap between us, there are criminal cases, paranoia and excessive caution.
We are divided into
those who left
who stayed. Yet we're still, like before, one fearless nation.
Over this gap, the very word Minsk triggers nostalgia for some,
others get nostalgic about visas in a blue passport.
Anyways, over this gap, we try to stay alert
When crossing the border or posting on social media.
Over this gap, we can sympathize but we can't heal our most painful wounds.
Attention. Doors open. Mind the gap.
We consider every word we say, we try to be fair and less radical,
Mindful of the past and the future, of those who are close and those we've last seen long ago.
Albeit on a screen.
Over this gap, we're engulfed by doubts, drawn in by a whirlwind
of differences and comparisons, of clashing opinions.
We can't bridge this gap to hug, touch, feel togetherness.
This gap makes smells unavailable.
What it makes available is irritation, anger, envy.
In both directions,
here and there,
also at border checkpoints
such as Kotlovka, Kamenny Log and others.
Over this gap, we're looking for answers but questions are easier to come by.
Over this gap, we can't come to terms with this dull everyday life.
Founder and director of the Northern Lights Film Festival