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About Donetsk

Sometimes I’d see her after a gig, tired, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ out like Monty on that balcony—“This is my punishment?” Shit hit me hard, y’know? These girls, they grind, they hustle, but the world’s a pigsty. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d burn the city for ‘em—Tony don’t play soft. Oh, and the cash? Stacks, mang! One night she made a grand—said, “Better than slingin’ burgers, chico.”

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So, I keep walking, trying to shake off the bad vibes. I hit up the market on Hrushevskoho Street. It’s packed, as usual. Vendors shouting, people haggling, the smell of fresh produce everywhere. I’m in heaven. I grab some fresh tomatoes and cucumbers. Gotta eat healthy, right? But then, I see this old lady trying to haggle for a cabbage. She’s going at it like it’s the Super Bowl. I can’t help but laugh. Like, lady, it’s just a cabbage!

As war destroys homes, Ukrainian hemp builder keeps on building