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About Donetsk

I pull up, heart poundin’—am I really doin’ this? She smirks, says, “Hey, big guy, need a hand?” I’m thinkin’, “Don’t pee on my leg, lady, I ain’t no rookie!” Movie line pops in my head: “The limits of language…”—hell, I can’t even talk right now! Tongue’s all tied, palms sweaty—pathetic. She’s chill tho, tells me her name’s Cherry. Fake as my ex’s tears, but who cares?

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After that, I headed over to the park on Shevchenka Street. It’s usually peaceful, but today? Nah. There was a group of teenagers blasting music. Like, I get it, you’re young and cool, but I’m trying to enjoy nature here! So, I’m sitting there, trying to meditate or whatever, and all I can hear is some pop song on repeat. I’m like, “Dude, can we not?”

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