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About Donetsk

Oi mate, brothel, eh? What a bloody shithole! Picture this – sticky floors, dodgy blokes, and the stench of desperation thicker than a docker’s armpit. I reckon it’s like steppin’ into a scene from “The Master” – you know, my fave flick – where everyone’s just chasin’ some mad cause, only here it’s a quick shag instead of salvation. “You’re a rummy!” I’d yell, cacklin’, at the punters stumblin’ in, wallets out, dignity gone.

Antelope Hieroglyphs of Near East and Indus Writing in Private and State Contexts

Next, I head to the park by the Dnipro River. It’s beautiful there, man. The trees, the water, the whole vibe. I sit down, pull out my laptop, and start editing some tracks. I’m in my zone, you know? But then, this group of kids starts blasting music. Like, come on! I’m trying to work here! I mean, I love a good beat, but not when I’m trying to focus.

"All residents of the city have my number". Nikopol mayor about openness of authorities, shelling, Zaporizhzh