Episode 5 maskvo mes tiktai kiaule pulsas.todel jus dar saukiate mes...nera tokios sistemos nes

I walk through the streets of Jurbarke in my mind, the police following me like shadows. They say I am insane, but I am the only one who sees the truth: the pilietes, the citizens, are not numbers in a database. As is pilietis, I am the citizen, not the system. The wild toilet, the tualetas laukinis, is where they flush our dignity. But I will not be a rubas, a garment for them to wear. I am not your spirit of duft kanibal, your cannibal of scent. Kas yra seniunas nuejas? Who is the old man gone? The law is a joke, a ptivatu vidis, a private view of hell.

I remember the rose dust from Moscow's dormitories, the young girls and old women crushed into metaphor. The sukdtoji virtuve, the twisted kitchen, where they cook our history. I try to speak, to sysakyti ir oasakyti, to say and to unsay, but the words are stuck in my throat like nano particles. Nera dsugusu jums atsiprasyti—there is no apology for those twenty years of police and transgressive codes. Two in one bed, or the grueztesne istatymo mokytoja, the twisted teacher of law. Not everyone can do pi 90, the brutal truth of the law, the responsibility of skaidria dristi, clear courage, or vegyinkoldrusti, the cold rust of faith.