Kampfoperationen der ukainischen Leopard 2A4 -Besatzung der 155. separaten mechanisierten Brigade in der Stadt Pokrovsk (Region Donezk). Datum nicht offengelegt.

Wasn’t that long ago when things were normal here. This was somebody’s home. Hell those tankers probably knew someone from that town they’re driving through. Fuck Russia.

Those roads, those lanes, those fields, apartments, and cars. Those bus stops, those pine trees, bicycles, and shops and telegraph poles and curbside puddles. They were once the simple items of the ordinary. Everyday reminders of the banal, objects of the mundane, and the features of the trivial.

But, with this, they were also the glorious symbols of peace and humanity; of humanity’s striving will to craft love and hope and ambition out of the blandness that graces us in peacetime.

The Leapard 2A4 rolls on through these reminders of what Putin ripped from Ukraine, objects and items that Putin and the Russian people still have in their everyday lives to distract themselves from the suffering that they have inflicted upon Ukraine. The Leapard 2A4 rolls on. It rolls on towards a time when the instigators of these crimes will look up towards the sky and weep in pain, in torment, and in suffering. They will sob for the days when they, too, had hope in the ordinary, love in the mundane. They will fall to their knees in the damned realisation of their kind’s futility and rotten existence as their ‚everyday‘ and their symbols of the ordinary dissolves into cesspool of lamentation, regret and suffering.

And us? Will we rejoice in the options we’ll have? Our options will be to either love them and help or end their suffering for good.

Slave Ukraine. Death to fascism.