Okay, guys, greetings to everybody. I’m alive.
Five days without power, water, gas, or communications. We were breaking benches and construction pallets with axes to make a fire in front of the house to heat water. We slept in the basements, because an APC with the letter ‘V’ on its side was shooting at the windows of my house. If not for the helmets, I would be able to recognize the faces of fighter pilots that flew over our house. The ‘liberators’ kicked everyone out of the entry hall of my house for the night because, you see, there was a convenient view of the front. Naturally, they weren’t afraid of a shell flying in as it was a civilian neighborhood, and the people here were civilians. We were distributing our neighbors among the remaining apartments. A detachment of soldiers came to my apartment, and the eldest of whom, with obvious drunkenness, offered my three-year-old son to hold a machine gun in his hands. He probably expected to see the light in his eyes and the joy of liberation. The same squad of orcs broke into a neighboring store and, after taking everything they needed, ordered the men to “spread humanitarian aid” from that opened store to the buildings. He said, “We open stores, not because we’re looters, but because we need something to eat too. In addition, during the evacuation, I saw things on the side of the road that you don’t see in the movies.
Cunts, I don’t have enough anger.