
(Prints size 120x201 cm)
5 березня. “Сон Метелика” (текст дописаний після звільнення)
На вулицях 90-ті. 30-метрові черги за хлібом, у центрі мітинг за вільну Україну. Ковід вже нікого не ширяє, його витіснила зараза ще гірше. Це сталося ще першого березня. Минулі дні були напруженими, я не випускав телефона з рук, читаючи новини, які розгорталися швидше, ніж можна було собі уявити. Прокинувшись вранці, я перш за все зайшов в группу телеграм, де публікували останні події за повідомленнями від самих громадян. Там повним ходом ширили фото російських солдат, що йшли пішки повз вікна нашого мікрорайону. За кілька хвилин я побачив їх і під своїм вікном. Мені було боляче і незрозуміло, чому вони йдуть вулицями мого міста без жодного спротиву з нашої сторони. До мене приєдналась моя дружина, ми разом стояли на балконі і знімали їх крізь жалюзі, намагаючись порахувати і роздивитись, чим вони озброєні. Ми сподівались, що наше відео, надіслане в чат-бот телеграму дозволить нашим військовим хоч щось зробити, що вони не залишили нас тут, на одинці з ворогом. Нажаль, мої сподівання не були марними. Коли російські солдати майже закінчили свій обхід нашого мікрорайону і повертали в напрямку селища Куйбишеве, де на них чекала техніка, з’явилися бійці територіальної оборони. Бій розпочався під вікном нашого балкону, можливо, для того, щоб ми його запам’ятали на все життя (і засняли на відео). Поверх одного розпачу швидко накладався інший, тому що російській до зубів озброєнній орді з кулеметами і гранатометами, яких прикривала броньована техніка, приїхала протистояти група в десяток людей з автоматами в пуховиках і в’язаних шапках на старій ладі 99. Абсурдність ситуації наче підкреслював чоловік з білим пакетом в руках, який, як ні в чому не бувало, прогулювався, відчайдушно не чуючи пострілів, вулицею за кілька метрів від вогневих позицій бійців тероборони. Вони привернули його увагу до того, як по ним почали гатити з автоматичного гранатомету і крупнокаліберних кулеметів. На щастя, більшість з цих людей змогли втекти від вогню, чого не скажеш про бійців, які в той самий день загинули в Бузьковому парку і пожежній частині на вулиці Нафтовиків. Та під нашим вікном вони змогли затримати просування російської техніки в місто годин на 5. Ми спостерігали за ними вже без марних сподівань, як Тигри, Патріоти і БТРи по 5-10 метрів в хвилину обережно крокують в “світле майбутнє”.
“Казкар” сказав, що "спецоперація" зі знищення суверенітету країни продовжиться, доки її мети не буде досягнуто. Він не сказав, що й санкції продовжаться, доки їх мети не буде досягнуто.
“Казкар” сказав, що "спецоперація" зі знищення суверенітету країни продовжиться, доки її мети не буде досягнуто. Він не сказав, що й санкції продовжаться, доки їх мети не буде досягнуто.
City streets resemble post-soviet 90s with 30-meter lines for bread. Downtown is flooded with people, rallying for free Ukraine. Nobody cares about COVID anymore, it has been replaced by a much worse infection.
It happened on the first of March. The past few days have been hectic, I kept my phone in my hands, following the situation, changing faster than one could imagine. When I woke up in the morning, I first of all checked the Telegram channel, where the latest events were published, based on reports from the subscribers. The photos of Russian soldiers walking past the windows of our neighborhood were widely spread. In a few minutes I saw them under my window. I felt hurt and did not understand why they were walking the streets of my city without any resistance from our side. My wife joined me, we stood together on the balcony and filmed them through the blinds, trying to count and see what they were armed with. We hoped that our video sent to the Telegram chatbot would allow our military to do something, that they did not leave us here, alone with the enemy. Unfortunately, my hopes were not in vain. When the Russian soldiers had almost finished their round of our neighborhood and were turning in the direction of the village of Kuibysheve, where armored vehicles were waiting, the fighters of the territorial defense appeared. The fight began under our balcony window, perhaps to be remembered (and captured on video) for the rest of our lives. On top of one despair, another was quickly superimposed, because a group of a dozen people with AK-74 in down jackets and knitted hats on the retro car came to oppose the Russian horde armed to the teeth with machine guns and grenade launchers, covered by armored vehicles. The absurdity of the situation seemed to be emphasized by an old man with a white shopping bag in his hands, who, as if nothing had happened, was walking, desperately deaf to the shots, along the street a few meters away from the firing positions. Luckily they drew his attention before the Russians started to fire automatic grenade launchers and large-caliber machine guns. Fortunately, most of these people were able to escape from the fire, but many fighters died on the same day in Buzkovy Park and the fire station on Naftovykyv Street. But under our window, they managed to delay the advance of Russian vehicles into the city for 5 hours. We watched them from the same window, already without vain hopes, as armored personnel carriers at 5-10 meters per minute carefully step into the "bright future".
The Storyteller said that the "special operation" to destroy the sovereignty of the country will continue until its goals are achieved. He did not say that the sanctions will continue until their goals are achieved.
It happened on the first of March. The past few days have been hectic, I kept my phone in my hands, following the situation, changing faster than one could imagine. When I woke up in the morning, I first of all checked the Telegram channel, where the latest events were published, based on reports from the subscribers. The photos of Russian soldiers walking past the windows of our neighborhood were widely spread. In a few minutes I saw them under my window. I felt hurt and did not understand why they were walking the streets of my city without any resistance from our side. My wife joined me, we stood together on the balcony and filmed them through the blinds, trying to count and see what they were armed with. We hoped that our video sent to the Telegram chatbot would allow our military to do something, that they did not leave us here, alone with the enemy. Unfortunately, my hopes were not in vain. When the Russian soldiers had almost finished their round of our neighborhood and were turning in the direction of the village of Kuibysheve, where armored vehicles were waiting, the fighters of the territorial defense appeared. The fight began under our balcony window, perhaps to be remembered (and captured on video) for the rest of our lives. On top of one despair, another was quickly superimposed, because a group of a dozen people with AK-74 in down jackets and knitted hats on the retro car came to oppose the Russian horde armed to the teeth with machine guns and grenade launchers, covered by armored vehicles. The absurdity of the situation seemed to be emphasized by an old man with a white shopping bag in his hands, who, as if nothing had happened, was walking, desperately deaf to the shots, along the street a few meters away from the firing positions. Luckily they drew his attention before the Russians started to fire automatic grenade launchers and large-caliber machine guns. Fortunately, most of these people were able to escape from the fire, but many fighters died on the same day in Buzkovy Park and the fire station on Naftovykyv Street. But under our window, they managed to delay the advance of Russian vehicles into the city for 5 hours. We watched them from the same window, already without vain hopes, as armored personnel carriers at 5-10 meters per minute carefully step into the "bright future".
The Storyteller said that the "special operation" to destroy the sovereignty of the country will continue until its goals are achieved. He did not say that the sanctions will continue until their goals are achieved.