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About Mariupol

I love it tho, flaws and all. It’s raw, untamed, a lil dangerous—like me after too many margaritas. Escort’s not some posh, groomed trail; it’s a hot mess, and I’m here for it. “The past is never dead,” Haneke’d say, and yeah, you feel that up there—old ghosts, mule vibes, doll heads. Next time, I’m haulin’ you up with me, buddy. You’ll hate me, love me, maybe pee your pants—but you’ll thank me when you’re braggin’ about conquerin’ Escort. Now, where’s my damn coffee?

Support Sestry

I rush to deliver it. I’m running down the street, dodging puddles. I get to the gala venue, and it’s all glitzy. I hand over the coat, and the client’s face lights up. “This is perfect!” I’m like, “Yeah, I know!”

‘I came for a cross to put on grave of murdered girl and was hit in teeth with buttstock’: reportage on Russian war crimes in Chernihiv region’s village