We are a tank!

About four years ago I wrote in LiveJournal about collecting money to help the Donbass. I really didn’t want to do that–as soon as money is involved, people start talking about thieving. Over these four years, nearly every post from a vacation or following a purchase something, I read about how I steal from Donbass children. Incidentally, these accusations are posted by the same people who wish on these children. That’s how mixed up some people are.
Sometimes it was downright comical–I was accused of stealing in order to live in South Africa, where I did live long before the Maidan. I never answered these emanations in the comments, although, to be honest, it was very unpleasant to read them. Don’t write “forget about it”–know what that is. But one still cannot avoid unpleasant feelings.
I feel it is unnecessary to explain to people that I have a husband who has a decent salary and also supports the Donbass, it seems like making excuses. And explaining that I lose money due to my aid activities is pointless. I was more than once offered jobs which I had to turn down because I would not be able to continue this effort. So they’ve stopped. I can’t even go teach full time at a good university. I’m only an hourly instructor. And I love teaching.
My blog is visited every month by hundreds of thousands of people (not views, people). Hundreds of thousands! That’s nuts. And that’s for a blog on whose promotion I did not spend a single ruble and where I don’t even write every day. And, incidentally, the posts not about Donbass are far more popular than the posts about. Even considering that LiveJournal “is dying”, “is no longer the same”, I still have advertisers. I wrote about this many times, but no, not a single advertiser wants to have anything to do with politics, which is understandable. Especially with politics of someone whose name is on Ukraine’s Mirotvorets web site.

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See you in Hell, bAldie!

Looking at a girlfriend’s LiveJournal blog, I was surprised by the number of locked posts. It turned out she acquired an “admirer” who began to harass and persecute her. Banning did not help. She kept seeking out my friend all over the internet, sent personal messages, opened new accounts and kept at it for a long time. The whole thing made no sense, my friend was running a site about kids which contained mainly funny sketches drawn from real life.
I get something similar in comments nearly every day.
This is the other side of humanitarian activity and of running a blog. Although, judging by my friend’s experience, the topic doesn’t matter.

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Please pardon me, but I couldn’t restrain myself

You, the unknown “girl from Ukraine” who wrote a veritable “Yaroslavna’s wail”, why do you hate Russians–you, who are spreading this mass hysteria of Russophobia, you are distorting meanings in every phrase you use. Do you hear me?
You wrote that post in the Russian language. You are using concepts from my culture, not yours.
What do you know about fear?
What do you know about pain?
You’ve seen soldiers in the streets?
Read someone else’s posts? Spent hours in front of the TV?
You are concerned for the kids who are forced, in schools, to draw cranes flying home and send them to soldiers?
What do you know about war, aside from internet hand-wringing by imaginary wives?
I’ll tell you what you need to know.
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Notes from a Madhouse

“Evdokia, are you really a private individual who got up and went there? What made you do that? Everyone felt pity, so why did you shift from tear-wiping to action?”
This was immediately followed by:
“One more thing: do you have the capabilities to make full-scale video interviews? Quality is not that important.”
I answered almost immediately:
“Am I really a private person? That’s an existential question. Perhaps I am just an illusion, one can’t wholly rule that out.”
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An Oldie

I love looking at things from a whole different life. The old life.
By the way, I wasn’t posing–I don’t remember why there’s so much pathos in my expression. But I like it. Yes.
Those who are wishing cancer and death on me–I hope you choke on those wishes.
I’ve had enough of your letters and comments.
Don’t forget–everything you wish on me, will come back to you. In the worst possible way.