July 31 is my second birthday. It just so happens that I live in the capital of Ukraine—Kyiv. This is the fourth year of war. For the fourth year, on New Year's Eve, I wish for the war to end and for survival. At first, I didn't want to leave. Now, I can't.
And so, in the night of the 31st, we were once again attacked by Shahed drones. After the all-clear from the air raid alarm was given (when people were returning from or had already returned to shelters), we were then hit by ballistic missiles. Cynical and vile.
The photo shows the destroyed buildings—my home is just 100 meters away. I got lucky. My losses were limited to a cracked window and my metal front doors blown inward.
Imagine waking up because the blast wave literally threw you up, stepping into a corridor where everything is gray from dust and soot with the lights on, realizing that our apartment building no longer has windows on the side where the explosion hit. Almost all doors are damaged or blown out.
The video shows the attack in detail—I wake up from the first explosion, which was far away. The second one shakes me on the bed, and then there’s just a fiery glow. Everything is covered in dust, gunpowder, soot. Neighbors’ homes are a mess—window frames, glass, half the doors flung open. There’s still glass being cleaned up on the second day.
To me, it's insane that in 2025, instead of developing cancer treatments or exploring new planets, the russian politician are destroying lives.
Take care of yourselves, and spread kindness.