Russia is a black hole

As sad as it is to say this, our country is in complete ruin. Perhaps such destruction could be caused by a war, an earthquake or an invasion of killer ants, but with us everything is more prosaic. Our people and the bandits in power are enough for us.

For two weeks I fed you beautiful pictures from the May trip, but these were the final points of the route. And to get there, you have to travel for a long, long time across Russia. What we saw sometimes caused a shudder, and even more so, even thoughts about where it came from, and most importantly, where it would lead us.

And this is scary.

It seems that we have either come close, or have already passed the terrible point, the event horizon. From there the past is no longer visible, the future is completely unclear, and there is no return.

Black hole.

Most of us live in large cities, where everything is more or less decent, and go on vacation to the country, where there are cottages and the Internet, or in Europe and Turkey. No one goes to the dying towns of the Tver region and the half-abandoned villages of the Vologda region. But in vain.

This is the only way to understand what our country has become. It is like a wooden house eaten away by termites - everything is beautiful on the outside, but rotten and rotten on the inside. As if it wouldn’t work out at all under us.

There's a completely different world there. A world where no one cares, where one half of the population needs to get a bubble, and the other half needs to survive. They show 4 channels, and there are no words “science”, “art”, “education”.

The store is there in the city, fresh vegetables can be obtained at the market in the regional center, and even then from the Azerbaijanis, who act here as a clear force for good - there are no Azerbaijanis, there are no vegetables.

The water tower is leaning, and it is unknown where to get water if it falls. There are no roads, and the old man plows the existing ones with a tractor - so that he can at least somehow get through, to remove the ruts.

Two grandmothers and a grandfather in a Zhiguli car, which is about our age and stalls if you sneeze next to them, with a trailer from a walk-behind tractor, stealing firewood from a sawmill. And if their six stalls, then the money comes out to push it.

Two men - apparently a father and son or a father-in-law and son-in-law - are plowing a vegetable garden in the courtyard of their five-story building with a plow on a horse. Probably not for fun, but because I want to eat, but there is no money to hire a tractor for two hours.

There's a lot of vodka there. At the general store you will be met by a barely talking drunkard who needs money for a vodka. We, well dressed, sober, in big cars, smiling - are aliens, at worst foreigners. There are no such people in his Russia.

The huts were lopsided, and there was almost nothing left of the fences. Terrible melancholy - everything is dead...

Dump. Always a dump. Not only does no one dispose of garbage, they don’t even carry it far. Right on the edge of the village and thrown away. Complete degradation.

You don’t have time to shoot everything from the car window, especially when you’re driving. Look. What's wrong with our country, huh?

I already wrote about the roads, but it’s impossible to stop. Bypass around Vyshny Volochek. Everyone who doesn’t want to stand in a traffic jam on Leningradka and who has a walkie-talkie went to it.

Youth. They have nothing to do there, so they hang out. Great place, you can buy something and cook something at the pharmacy.

I didn't choose the crooked house. 80% of houses everywhere are in this condition.

And here are the men with the plow. You say Stalin took the country with a plow and left it with an atomic bomb? Well, here's your bomb.

Zone. Where would Russia be without her? This is a purely Gulag video.

Roadside service. What’s interesting is that in our country they don’t know how to do anything exactly and according to a ruler. The land of crooked mirrors.

The same applies to fences. The house is alive, the garden is plowed. Fence? Fuck... that'll do.

Village boys.

Prosperous yard.

Think about it - where are we going? What will happen to our country and to these people? They live outside of time. Nothing changes for them. One is to find a fusel on the bubble.

Others need to survive.

Original