They are planning explosions evenly over time to always keep you on toes.
Every time you think you are falling asleep,
Every time you are going to open windows to let at least some air in the room,
Every time you are going to cook something...
Wake up and be alert. Close the window. Turn off the gas so your apartment won't explode if they hit your building.
Don’t sleep.
Exactly one month ago on February 24 at 5 am, when I was going to go sleep, I've heard a sound which was going to become a constant background soundtrack for all Ukrainians.
I've heard it before, but I couldn't believe it is what I think it is, I couldn't believe it is real.
I was standing on the balcony, even so I knew that its dangerous to stand near windows. I just couldn't move, listening to it and watching people waking up - turning on lights in rooms, looking at windows, trying to understand what is happening.
When the first bombing was over, I started packing most important stuff - documents, medications, warm clothes etc.
To be fair, you could hear on the news long time before this day - prepare an emergency bag, be ready. But not even one person I know took it seriously.
I was packing my bag to the accompaniment of the rolling suitcases sounds - some people started leaving the city as soon as the first wave of explosions has stopped.
But I knew I'm not leaving the city – this bag is needed only in case if my house will be destroyed.
To be honest I really don't want to leave. Don't think I would do it even if it wasn't so impossibly hard to do.
I just hope I will be here. at my home, when we will hear the news which the whole country is waiting for - We won the war, and the nightmare is over.
But for now, we all are just waiting.
When the first bombing was over, I started packing most important stuff - documents, medications, warm clothes etc.
To be fair, you could hear on the news long time before this day - prepare an emergency bag, be ready. But not even one person I know took it seriously.
I was packing my bag to the accompaniment of the rolling suitcases sounds - some people started leaving the city as soon as the first wave of explosions has stopped.
But I knew I'm not leaving the city – this bag is needed only in case if my house will be destroyed.
To be honest I really don't want to leave. Don't think I would do it even if it wasn't so impossibly hard to do.
I just hope I will be here. at my home, when we will hear the news which the whole country is waiting for - We won the war, and the nightmare is over.
But for now, we all are just waiting.
It's quite hard to describe, but no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to just live my life I am still always waiting. I can feel it every second of every day since the war started.
* just a note – its July’24 and I still do, I still feel and wait the same way I felt when I wrote this, only difference is that maybe we all just don't really expect miracles anymore *
But it becomes somehow easier to wait - day by day you can feel how your brain adjusts to this situation, more and more getting used to it, but even after a month of such reality you still cannot fully understand what is actually happening.
*July’24 and it feels like I understand even less now *
You can see how your thinking is changing after a month in bombed city. You don't feel the need to read news 24/7 - you know they are bad anyway. You still read it, but it's more of a harmful habit already.
The sound of bombing doesn't cause such strong emotions anymore.
* just a note – its July’24 and I still do, I still feel and wait the same way I felt when I wrote this, only difference is that maybe we all just don't really expect miracles anymore *
But it becomes somehow easier to wait - day by day you can feel how your brain adjusts to this situation, more and more getting used to it, but even after a month of such reality you still cannot fully understand what is actually happening.
*July’24 and it feels like I understand even less now *
You can see how your thinking is changing after a month in bombed city. You don't feel the need to read news 24/7 - you know they are bad anyway. You still read it, but it's more of a harmful habit already.
The sound of bombing doesn't cause such strong emotions anymore.
Since the spring came to Kharkiv, people even started to go outside a little.
Many of us are just trying to live our lives - some people looking busy rushing somewhere, some going to rarely open grocery stores or pharmacies, some are volunteering, and some might even just chill outside and enjoy some fresh air.
And sometimes it seems that no one can hear the explosions - I love watching zero reaction on people's faces when rusians start bombing.
People do their best to not care, everyone just do what they have to.
Ukrainians are absolutely unbreakable and fearless.
It doesn't mean they aren't careful and don't understand all seriousness of the situation, no.. But they are just calm and all accepting, which inspires a lot. They refuse to give up on their spirit, as well as they never give up on their lives.
In order to get some food, you need to spend hours in the line near grocery shop. If you come late - the shelves will be empty, a bit later – and the shop is closed. There are no actual working hours, as well as no guarantee that you will be able to get what you came for – bread disappears from the shelves with the speed of light, some other basic products as well, but the chances to get those are a bit higher. The only things you will always see there – some luxury products, which were imported in the city before the Big war started - some expensive chocolates and fancy drinks which no one has any interest in buying and can't really afford, since most of the city is paralyzed and many people has lost their jobs.
You come to the line at 7:30 am, knowing that they should open at 8. Around of two hundred people are there waiting already, but the shop decides to open at 10.
It’s -3*C and bombing.
People in line jokingly call it spring thunder..
It hurt your feet very much to stand on the cold ground for so long, but you want to get some food more than to not get sick.
You are very lucky if you have someone to change for you while you are walking around to get somehow warm. Not everybody does it, but mostly people are trying to remember who were standing around them - to make it fair.
When the shop finally opens, they let very few people in and wait for them to finish their purchases before allowing the new group to get inside – everyone else are still standing in cold, listening to missiles flying around.
You don't recognise your beautiful city after a month of this nightmare.
Everything just seems surreal.
Just a few buildings on the street around me were damaged, but the further I go – the more of it I see.
It is such a weird feeling to actually witness it with your own eyes. You have seen it before on the pictures in the news, but all you saw – just destructions on familiar streets.
You are very lucky if you have someone to change for you while you are walking around to get somehow warm. Not everybody does it, but mostly people are trying to remember who were standing around them - to make it fair.
When the shop finally opens, they let very few people in and wait for them to finish their purchases before allowing the new group to get inside – everyone else are still standing in cold, listening to missiles flying around.
You don't recognise your beautiful city after a month of this nightmare.
Everything just seems surreal.
Just a few buildings on the street around me were damaged, but the further I go – the more of it I see.
It is such a weird feeling to actually witness it with your own eyes. You have seen it before on the pictures in the news, but all you saw – just destructions on familiar streets.
But these are not just some destroyed buildings – these are destroyed lives.
Not a picture. Not some news. Someone's life.
It's just one street from you, you have heard the sound of this specific missile destroying this specific building, building which you were walking by almost every single day, but somehow you still felt like the tragedy of it is distant from you. Your brain just refuses to accept it as a part of your reality, until you are facing it yourself.
Not a picture. Not some news. Someone's life.
It's just one street from you, you have heard the sound of this specific missile destroying this specific building, building which you were walking by almost every single day, but somehow you still felt like the tragedy of it is distant from you. Your brain just refuses to accept it as a part of your reality, until you are facing it yourself.
Only when you are standing there, you can notice these little details which makes it Real, you can imagine actual people who were living there, in these little barely holding boxes, which were someone's apartments just a few days ago.
You can see rooms, design of it – from what kind of curtains and wallpapers they chose for their homes, to the pictures they hang on walls in their bedrooms – some kids paintings, some favourite artists posters, some personal photos. You see things they left behind, like this barely touched coffee pack on the shelve in the kitchen...
You imagine the person, who bought this coffee in the setting of normal peaceful life, planning to drink it every morning before going to his work. And now this coffee is just standing there, covered with the layer of construction dust – dust, which was still a solid wall in the moment of purchase. Does this person still have a job? Where he stays? Is he even alive now?
So many little details of someone's destroyed life.
I'm just somehow lucky to still have my own - my life, my stuff, my home. And beautiful friends who are reading it now and supporting me during all these awful times. Thank you.
You can see rooms, design of it – from what kind of curtains and wallpapers they chose for their homes, to the pictures they hang on walls in their bedrooms – some kids paintings, some favourite artists posters, some personal photos. You see things they left behind, like this barely touched coffee pack on the shelve in the kitchen...
You imagine the person, who bought this coffee in the setting of normal peaceful life, planning to drink it every morning before going to his work. And now this coffee is just standing there, covered with the layer of construction dust – dust, which was still a solid wall in the moment of purchase. Does this person still have a job? Where he stays? Is he even alive now?
So many little details of someone's destroyed life.
I'm just somehow lucky to still have my own - my life, my stuff, my home. And beautiful friends who are reading it now and supporting me during all these awful times. Thank you.
