“Do you know what the most incredible thing was, about Mariupol? No one feared death, even if people thought they did. Death was already there, and everyone wanted to die valuable. People would help each other, even if it meant risking their lives. People would smoke outside and chat, even if the bombs were falling. Money stopped existing, and life was too short to recall it, and everyone was happy with what they had, becoming better versions of themselves; there was no past or future or judgment, or talk between the lines. That was heaven in hell. That was the delicate butterfly wings touching closer. That was the smell of the naked value of death. That was life there.” (Shooting notes)