Exactly one year ago, I returned home, to Russia. I didn’t get to take a single step through my own country as a free man — I was arrested before I even reached passport control. A character in one of my favorite books — Leo Tolstoy’s *Resurrection* — says: “Yes, the only fitting place for an honest man in Russia at the present time is prison.” It sounds beautiful, but it was untrue then, and even more so now. There are a great many honest people in Russia — tens of millions. In fact, there are far more of them than people usually think. But what frightens those in power — vile then, and even more vile now — is not honest people as such, but people who are not afraid. Or rather, let me be more precise: those who may be afraid, but overcome that fear. There are many of them too — we encounter them constantly in different places, from rallies to the remaining independent media outlets. Even here, on Instagram. Recently I read that Interior Ministry employees are being fired for liking my posts. So in Russia in 2022, even a like can be an act of courage. At all times, this has been the essence of politics: a petty tsar who wants to usurp the right to unchecked one-man rule must intimidate honest people who are unafraid. And they, in turn, must convince everyone around them that there is no need to be afraid. That there are many times more honest people than the petty tsar’s guard. Why spend your whole life in fear, while also being robbed, if things can be arranged differently — more justly? And this is an endless back-and-forth. Or a tug-of-war: today you are brave, tomorrow they seem to have scared you a little. And the day after tomorrow they scare you so badly that you despair — and become brave again. I have no idea when my cosmic journey will end, or whether it will end at all — just this Friday I was informed that yet another criminal case against me is being sent to court. And there is another one in line — the one where I am an extremist and a terrorist. So I am one of those “cosmonauts” who does not count the days until the end of his sentence. What’s the point of counting? People have served 27 years. But I joined this squad of cosmonauts precisely because I tried, as best I could, to pull on this end of the rope. To pull over to this side those honest people who do not want to be afraid anymore, or no longer can be. I did it, I do not regret it for a second, and I will continue to do it. __________________________________________ Having spent my first year in prison, I want to say to everyone exactly what I shouted to the crowd outside the courthouse when the convoy was leading me to the prison van: don’t be afraid of anything. This is our country, and we don’t have another one. The only fear we should have is that we might leave our homeland to be plundered by a bunch of liars, thieves, and hypocrites. That we might surrender—without a fight, voluntarily—not only our future, but the future of our children. Thank you all so much for your support—I feel it. And in general, I want to say: the year went by incredibly fast. It feels like just yesterday I boarded a plane to Moscow, and now I’ve already spent a year behind bars. The science books are right: time moves at different speeds on Earth and in space 😉. I love you all and send you my hugs.