We explain the world in a hundred different ways,
we have analyzed society a million times,
and meanwhile we have quietly forgotten:
a human being is not a tool.
Not a statistic. Not a crowd. Not data.
They are the one who suffers in silence.
The one who has been alone for far too long.
The one whose pain is trivialized from office chairs,
on a purely theoretical level.
We have become too mechanical.
The mind calculates, categorizes, uses.
Relationships? More mental control than genuine interest.
The human has become a function.
Employee. System element. Disposable resource.
What can I use you for?
That has become the question.
What number did you get?
In which office, on which form are you registered?
Has your fate already been decided?
Where did you go, human?
Who are you?
We have become invisible to one another.
Your performance is familiar — because it matters,
but your gaze is foreign.
Your name exists on a list,
but your essence is nowhere to be found.
Where can all these people meet again?
There, where someone pays attention.
Where they don’t measure you — they feel you.
Where they don’t want to use you — they want to connect.
And there, perhaps, we will remember again:
we are not data.
Not roles.
Not numbers.
We are PRESENCE.
Presence.
For one another.
I am Ildikó Dajbukát.
I believe that in love, we find one another again.
Reach out — and tell me: Who are you?
