Išdrįstant į pasaulį: Kelionė per tautas

Daring into the world: A journey through nations

Personal essay

Under the same sky

Notes from a Lithuanian heart – preserved sharpness, lightly polished and now even more pleasing to the eye.

Browse the sections using the bullets below or read in order.

I am Lithuanian — or at least I was. Sometimes it feels like my country no longer exists as I remember it. So much corruption and change, as if we have lost a part of ourselves. The Lithuania I truly believe in — Lietu-va — today seems like a no longer existing reality. I keep that vision in my imagination, hoping that one day it will return.

Interesting fact: In Lithuania, the Constitution is seriously violated if derogatory speech is made about another state. And behavior towards a person that demeans their dignity is strictly prohibited.

It's simply against our nature — we don't do that.

Meanwhile, the world beyond our borders moves at a breathtaking pace — each nation carries a unique spark of humanity, inviting us to see beyond the corner I called home.

And yet, despite the turmoil, Lithuania gave me many moments of pride. We had the strongest man in the world — Žydrūnas Savickas; I had the privilege to work with him and can confirm he is as impressive as his titles. We had a woman who earned the highest chess titles (Viktorija Čmilytė, among other talents), and many athletes, scientists, and thinkers illuminating our universities. I used to joke that we are the strongest country in the world: we can drink beyond deadly limits and still survive. Absurd, but strangely fitting — such is our reputation for endurance, though today I see it in a different light.

Russia: guardian of mysteries and spirit

Russia often divides in global conversations, but I remember moments when they felt like guardians — helping to get through cold winters, both literal and metaphorical. There is warmth there that is not always visible from the outside. Once on a trip, I touched a matryoshka — something magical happened, but the details faded. Maybe one day the memory will return even clearer.

Their bold history is fascinating: Venus, enormous trials, quiet heroes whose names we may never know. In Russian culture, beneath the surface, endurance hums — calm but ready to survive and conquer.

A gentle reminder: we have shared this place for millions of years, not just a moment.

United States: the courage to strive

The United States is intense. The pursuit of perfection often comes at a high cost — "stupidity is expensive," as they say, and that's how they live. They have broken through countless barriers, marching forward like pioneers into the unknown. Not everyone appreciates it, but their determination to move forward cannot be denied.

China: builders of our shared world

With more than a billion people, China is a testament to collective effort. They have built so much that the world relies on today — often sacrificing more than others will ever understand. From my three million people Lithuania, I feel small and at the same time humble before the scale and interconnections of this world.

If you go beyond stereotypes, you will find a vibrant youth culture — cosplay, technology, an extraordinary blend of tradition and futurism. Their ability to work together inspires deep respect in me.

Japan: sharp minds, ancient grace

I have long admired Japanese precision and elegance. From cuisine to robotics — their attention to detail showed that care is a form of knowledge. Even the attempt to learn the language opened unexpected depths. Centuries-old tradition whispered: stay sharp and continue, even if the world around does not want to settle.

I have always wanted to visit both Japan and China — to walk their streets, learn from the people, experience the cultures. Maybe I will visit Korea too.

India: wells of wisdom

India to me is like an endless well from which you can draw knowledge, spirituality, or any truth. In a noisy, information-overloaded world, its ancient wisdom and cultural richness shine. From meditation and philosophy to vibrant festivals — the thread of time with compassion carries even through the darkest days.

Muslim countries: a beacon of self-restraint

When I learned about countries where alcohol is banned or restricted, at first it seemed foreign. Later I saw the strength in that attitude: the decision not to drown in intoxication. Where I grew up, drinking was common and destructive. Knowing that another path exists — a culture that mostly resists it — became a beacon of hope. Please, keep shining — the world needs your clarity.

Africa: land of red skies and untold stories

Africa is vast, diverse, marked by stories of exploitation and pain. I was often warned that traveling there was unsafe, that there was much anger. Now I understand those motives better, and it breaks my heart. But at the same time, Africa's beauty and cultural richness transcend borders. I hope one day to meet those red skies with respect and listening.

Brazil, Peru: endless forests and boundless passion

Flying over Brazil, the forests stretched like a living sea. The magic of the Amazon largely remains a mystery even to those living nearby. Brazil's cultural pulse — music, dance, festivals — invites living in full color and sound.

UK: more than propaganda

UK means the United Kingdom.

As I came, I heard many negative things — about supposedly low education, backwardness. Upon arrival, I found a country with a rich history, humor, and quiet endurance. It's not necessary to have "maximum resilience"; the ability to adapt, change, and grow is also a strength. I fell in love. "Brexit" divided people — understandably, looking through heritage, contemporary pressures, and what people try to protect and preserve. Behind the headlines lies a fabric of traditions and innovations — soothing and surprising.

Of course, not everything here is sunny. Corruption exists here too — but if I had to count, I'd say it's several orders of magnitude less than in Lithuania. Here it is like small seeds and thin tentacles. People's kindness seems to dull corruption.

Even as a resident, you can be rejected by institutions — and hospitals — sometimes without a clear reason, or just because you are European. It sounds harsh, but for many, this is reality. After so much disappointment and pain, some officials become lazy — automatic rejection becomes self-protection. It's annoying, but it happens. I will write about this in more detail later.

Someone is trying to sow chaos with the nastiest actions. But many countries have seen similar tragedies. If we observe, learn, and share, we will become wiser — protecting peace and love not just in one place, but everywhere.


The sad truth — sometimes this country feels like an empty shell, eaten away by corruption. A true, human minority of voices; power — like sick, helpless, flooded. Without a real, global intervention for everything, we risk losing everything.

Why am I dragging a bunch of fire extinguishers when there's no visible fire?
Because I've already given you protection from gasoline and arson. And now I smell gas here – strongly – although the flames haven't started yet. Or rather.... Coal disguised as gasoline!
It's complicated.

It may be that in some countries – perhaps even their own – the population is being replaced very rapidly. This would explain the emergence of "fake" institutions: hospitals that don't really treat or do so selectively, police stations that don't enforce laws, absurd signs and rules that even the rulers don't follow, and workplaces full of meaningless jobs. People seem deliberately poorly fed across the country, all exhausted, health and safety completely ignored, and wealth systematically extracted so that communities become hollow. Eventually, people are simply erased, and new faces appear in their place – similar, but without any history.

That would explain the quiet cry of despair. People ask for help – but instead their voices are suppressed, postponed, and buried deep.

About "Brexit"? I think the real work was done before that. Separation only protects parasites: without external oversight, others would immediately see the problem. Now they operate quietly and very... erasing. Like rats from other countries who stole trillions, they now wait to burn everything down, take over a new country, drain it – and then move on to another, which is already being exhausted and prepared.

But global intervention? The world itself is already sick and shaky…

On a global power scale, the UK can carry the force of absolute love. There are several wandering "spirit" forms — they quietly walk among people and leave traces of wonder. Maybe that's why I resonate so much with it.

I have moved beyond chasing traditional success and control — I began living guided by love. Compared to everything else, it feels incredibly extreme.

In this field of love, I found a sense of home. These people accepted me, even loved me. Though I don't belong to one country, I deeply care for this place and these people — and from here I send care to the world.

A small boat and a vast world

Maybe one day I'll get the smallest possible boat — just enough to glide across oceans, anchor by small islands, and spend days peacefully studying, resting, and finding calm even in the darkest stormy night, when waves are five times the height of the hull. I want to be everywhere the spirit calls — anywhere on Earth.

In a few years, maybe I'll sail nonstop — to travel, learn, and grow.


The European loop

Europe has a long history of war and destruction — sometimes it seems like our tragic "specialty." We repeat conflicts as if we never learn. So I look to other peoples — seeking different ways of life, self-control, innovation, and threads of compassion that might help break the cycle.

Once I nearly died — literally and figuratively — and was brought back. It showed how limited our time is. We will all eventually die — enemies and friends alike.

Why waste days on hatred? Why not choose love — to open up to the wonders that every person and every country holds?

Maybe I'm naive. So be it. I choose to love freely — not for politics or ideology, but because everyone deserves to be seen and valued. In that choice lies freedom: no more suffocating suspicion and tribal grievances.

Yes, there are bigger mysteries: unseen forces, secret agendas, governments doing unimaginable things. But as long as our hearts beat in our own chests, we still have a choice — to reject cruelty, speak the truth, build bridges, and find joy in each other's company. Maybe someday we'll meet and share a table. Even if not — know this: you matter. You always have and always will.

A quick reality check: Europe's "Health and Control" illusion

Despite regulations and rhetoric, preventable deaths continue unabated. WHO estimates that four commercial products — tobacco, ultra-processed food, fossil fuels (e.g., air pollution), and alcohol — are wholly or partly responsible for about 2.7 million deaths per year in the WHO European region (about 7,400 daily). Tobacco alone is linked to ~1.1 million deaths annually, and alcohol to about 800,000. That's up to 20–30 times more than the number of victims of many everyday conflicts. The lesson is not consolation, but urgent responsibility.

Numbers don't bring mourning, but they sharpen choices. If we truly value human life, it must be reflected in our politics and daily habits.

So while officials declare "protection," the real story is an unbroken stream of avoidable deaths, fueled by profit and political inertia. The question arises:

Does Europe truly value human life — or is it just a comforting illusion?

Infographic: Alcohol and Tobacco Victims in Europe

What about Ukraine?

I can only speak for myself, but I see Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia as brothers and sisters — we share a common history, culture, and trials. Ukraine also feels like kin, experiencing deep pain. Everyone else in the world — like cousins: still family, just a different closeness. All this hurts me more than any physical pain — the emotional burden is heavier.

I feel vast, unexplored fields of influence — perhaps even forms of mind control — that surpass understanding and divide families and friends. There is no good reason to make brothers and sisters fight. People die, becoming fuel for a mechanism that benefits neither them nor us. Similar patterns repeat elsewhere — it tears the heart apart.

Sometimes it seems these manipulative forces are unimaginably advanced. They lead us to create weapons with our own hands — ones that could end us all — so that "they" can start anew, this time without gaps. I don't have all the answers, but I know I don't want such a future for any of my children, brothers, or sisters — by blood, country, or shared humanity.

And if. If anyone survived and told the tale, maybe it wouldn't be in human form anymore. After the cataclysm, the initial state might become a trembling, featureless mass — perfect for the continuation of their plan. It could be that in such a reality no being will ever again share space or form with a human — so be kind to your cats while you still can.

So get comfortable — eternity awaits.

Sources and References

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