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I am a peaceful species, I love people so much. And it’s me who will with my bare hands tear off the muzzles of the invaders, who were dragged to kill children ...

Loud speeches of great orators, masterpieces of cinema, and stunning theatrical performances — they rather weakly convey the catharsis that war generously presents. In war, you sometimes age in a day as in a year. You feel how the vital systems of your body are disintegrating. You get to know a new yourself: it is quite possible that you will even not like this person very much.

But now you know for sure what you are capable of. Are you able to resist fear? After all, fear is just a lack of information.

Yes, I have no information about when this war will end. I do not know who its main beneficiaries and initiators are. I don't know why all this brazen terror is taking place on our abundant planet.

But I know one thing for sure: we didn’t get scared. We have remained faithful. We have chosen to be an example of a glorious life.

At the same time, most of us are by no means in love with our own new stories. I will tell only about 5 people from my inner circle.

Let their names be fictitious.

Egor, a civilian, made his way to the front line and, having taken possession of the armored personnel carrier, tried to rescue his men from the area. The APC was hit, but Yegor managed to immediately take possession of the enemy tank. In short, that day all our guys returned home.

Semyon, a civilian, having abandoned business prospects, managed to provide the army with thousands of uniform items. His wife Okasana daily feeds the combatants at the special point — she has been doing something like this for many years. My best friend Marya has collected donations from all over the world and teaches people important skills for free. And my sister Sanya became an enemy of Russia because she openly called for an end to the bloodshed — there she would be imprisoned for 20 years if she decided to enter the country. Each of my Fab Five would give a lot to keep these stories from happening in their lives.

And what about my entourage from Moscow? My aunt, an ethnic Ukrainian, refused to discuss with anyone in Moscow that we, Ukrainians, probably should not be killed. She chose to remain silent. Her daughter, my other sister, publicly posted the secret military correspondence with Sanya online. Putting her under attack. Just because the girlie could. Do I hate them? Of course not, but for now I can’t imagine why we should communicate again.