A dream. I’m on a train to Kyiv. Since childhood — from the moment when my family moved to Russia when I was four — I always take (took) the train into Ukraine. Once you enter Kyiv, you approach and go across the Dnipro River so that to the right through the window you can see The Motherland Monument — a giant woman lifting up a sword and shield with her arms. Whenever I saw her I sort of understood that I was home again. Hello, Mother Ukraine. So then — I’m riding on the train once more. The train goes into Kyiv and I see through the window The Motherland Monument, and I try to take a photo of her with my phone but I can’t: now the photos come out blurred, now the beams and columns of the bridge are in the way, and now something else…I try to but I can’t. Next it gets strange. For some reason, without reaching the central station, I get off at a suburban stop (somewhere like Boiarka). However, naturally my luggage remains on the train and continues onwards to the central station. So now I need to get there somehow. And here I understand that if I begin asking people in Russian — this could draw negative reactions, so better to ask in Ukrainian. But I’ve been out of practice for several years and begin choosing my words ploddingly and talk with a complete lack of confidence. All of this makes me wildly uncomfortable. I continue trying to talk to the people at this station at which I alighted. I get some reaction from them — they look at me with suspicion, trying to understand what I need, trying to tell me where to go, but then I approach someone else and again try to talk to them in broken Ukrainian. I don’t remember how the dream finished.
Dream is from Berdichev (Ukraine) / Moscow (the current location of the person who sent it.)

I dreamed that I woke up at 6 am as usual. It’s like a ritual in my brain. Usually I look out the window, then for a while and fall asleep again. I wake up in a dream and see that a riot policeman with a muzzle is standing over me. I look at him and think to myself “Well … actually, I can sleep a bit more”
Dream from Moscow.

A month since the start of the war. I’m in a sports hall. There are many of us. There are these big windows and a volleyball net. I remember suddenly growing terrified. I look at the hall entrance as military personnel start coming in. They are all in black, probably OMON. And with big guns. I was so terrified. When I woke up, I thought that soldiers are what I’m really afraid of in life.
Dream from Russia.

A month since the start of the war. I’m in a sports hall. There are many of us. There are these big windows and a volleyball net. I remember suddenly growing terrified. I look at the hall entrance as military personnel start coming in. They are all in black, probably OMON. And with big guns. I was so terrified. When I woke up, I thought that soldiers are what I’m really afraid of in life.
Dream from Russia.

Animated video below.

I saw how the deceased lay in the dirt, and how they slowly began to sink under it, while red wheat grew through them above. This wheat was collected and out of it bread was made. And in this dream I realise that this has of course turned out to be bloodied bread! I need to let everyone know about this — how come they don’t understand that this bread is made with blood, that we cannot eat it.”