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"I hate this country!" (dystopia). "Why I hate Russia"

Damn country. Godforsaken 1/6 of the land. How did I manage to be born in this totalitarian state? - showing the pass, I pass through the factory turntable, and my eyes, for the umpteenth time, rest on the tired words "Putin is alive, Putin will live" and "Glory to the National Public Front."
Your mother ... how I'm tired of all this. I've been tired of it for a long time. Even at school, when we were all treated with an incomprehensible subject “History of United Russia”. Only Democracy knows how much I hated the brochure “Quotes of V.V. Putin” and the multivolume “ Telephone conversations V.V. Putin with A.G. Lukashenka and N. Nazarbaev”.
Then there was the army. Even the daily political information that the major special officer read to us did not inspire such disgust as our combatant song:

“... And a song about him, raising like a banner
The united front marches in ranks;
It burns, a formidable flame flares up,
The peoples rise for the last struggle.
And we sing this song proudly
And we praise the greatness of Putin's years,
We sing about life, beautiful, happy,
About the joy of our great victories! ... "

That's why I chose the plant in my hometown which, frankly, makes me sick.

I am sick of the portraits of the Leader hanging on every corner and banners with his quotes, I am sick of monthly subbotniks when, like many, I have to go out with a broom and do the work for which I am not paid, and bookstores are incredibly infuriated , where there is an abundance of ideologically seasoned books for adults and children (such as "Putin and the stove-maker", "How Volodya passed the exams" and complete collection works of V.V. Putin in 55 volumes) drives you crazy. I hate this city, as well as all the others.
I go into the workshop, where a huge banner hangs with the inscription “To work without marriage is to work like Putin,” and immediately I run into our locksmith.
This rogue informs me in a whisper that there is smuggled parmesan, dor blue and jamon. I say with ostentatious indignation that all these European pickles disgust the true Putinist, while I swallow hungry saliva-cutlets, chops and homemade borscht, you won’t be full, but I am restrained by the fact that, according to rumors, the locksmith is “tapping” on the trade union, which is located under the hood of the FSB. I don't want to risk. Better in the evening I'll go to the underground McDonald's and eat a couple of hamburgers and french fries. Expensive, of course. But it's better than getting a "fifteen" for the possession and use of foreign products.
Totalitarianism, no freedom.

At night, tightly closed window curtains, I I catch “Voice of America” on the radio, while I shy away from every extraneous sound and all the time I am afraid that I will be detected by a direction finder that travels through the streets of the city night and day.
I don't talk to my neighbors. I know that some of them write to the "office" on the slightest provocation. That is why I rubbed the Salamander label on the insoles of the boots I bought from the traders and brought out the Belarusian brand “Freedom” with a felt-tip pen. Complete hopelessness.

The trade union gave me a free, as a shock worker of the Kremlin labor, a ticket to one of the Crimean sanatoriums with four meals a day, health treatments and bus tours.
This pathetic handout completely crushed me. I remembered the footage of Montmartre, the Cote d'Azur, Antalya, recently seen in an illegal video store, and I almost cried - I will never see these foreign beauties, just as I do not recognize the taste of real whiskey and lobster meat. Drive out of this totalitarian state It's like flying into space. Available only to a select few.
It is strange that almost every day manned and cargo ships are launched from the two Russian cosmodromes "Plesetsk" and "Vostochny", the newest military equipment, science and technology are developing by leaps and bounds, and enslaved people do not have the right to go on vacation to Turkey or Egypt. I'm not talking about the possibility of registering in social networks under an assumed name.

I hate this country. There is no freedom of speech. Any criticism of the government is equated with anti-Kremlin propaganda and is punished by the "quarter" camps. We are forced to secretly gather in the kitchen of one or another like-minded person, where we read samizdat Kommersant in an undertone and listen to the forbidden songs of Makarevich. In the dead of night, we disperse one by one, fearing night police patrols, but it's worth it. After such illegal gatherings, I feel free. And it doesn’t matter that in the morning at the checkpoint I will again feel like a slave when I see the inscription “Putin is more alive than all the living,” because I know that everything ends someday.

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Recently, I was reproached for often writing negatively about the West, while not paying attention to Russian realities and sent a text in which they outlined, point by point, all the negativity that the author had accumulated over his entire life in Russia.

Yes, why not, for this, in fact, I created an author's section in my journal, so that everyone who has a desire for this could speak out, regardless of views or preferences.

By the way, they noticed that when you write well about Russia, you are immediately an agent of the Kremlin and a propagandist working for Putin's handouts. If you write something bad, then you are an agent of the State Department, working out rations from Uncle Sam.

But the truth is out there somewhere

—————————————
I live in Siberia, you know, not the best place to live. But I'm not going anywhere. Although I graduated from the faculty foreign languages and there would be fewer problems with adaptation in another country. Plus a lot of useful information. I love my country and at the same time I hate it very often.

I have something to hate Russia for and I don’t need to be here right away, and let’s get out of here, rotten intelligentsia and so on.

Yes, space. Nature, beauty. Russian language. Associates. Friends. A lot of advantages.

Why do I hate her?

1. For a huge percentage of cattle. Yes, stupid, uneducated and at the same time very aggressive people. There are many of these in Europe. But they are not visible there, because they are not given the opportunity to stick out. They are law abiding citizens.

2. I hate Russia. For ignorance of languages. Why teach? Let them speak Russian. I saw this picture many times at the reception abroad, when a Russian shook his license: “Why don’t you answer me in Russian?”

3. I hate. For dirt and rudeness. Come to us in Karakansky Bor in the Ordynsky district. Look how much rubbish Russian tourists leave behind! Try to make a remark - understand what you get?

4. I hate. For drinking on the weekends and on vacation. In full, to the loss of memory and human appearance. We walk in such a way that we interfere with everyone around us. That is why they are so afraid of drunken Russians in Turkey, Greece and so on.

5. I hate Russian crazy mothers who make freaks out of children. On the one hand, dressing only in a brand, on the other hand, replacing communication with a computer and expensive gadgets. And rushing to the embrasure, if someone dared to make a remark to the child.

6. I hate politics that divided people into two camps. Which destroyed the past, and hence the life of my father, a front-line soldier.

7. I hate Russia for the miserable existence of pensioners, for allegedly free education, for the fact that a teacher, journalist, lawyer, doctor, you can add a hundred more professions, have turned not into propagandists of knowledge, not into a beacon of science, but into slaves serving the interests of the rich those who pay.

8. I hate Russia for dying literary magazines that libraries are being closed, municipal clubs, studios, theaters are being destroyed. They fire those who really love their work, who serve their cause.

9. I hate Russia because I am often ashamed to say abroad that I am Russian. Because there are so many negative labels and clichés that it's easier to lie than to prove that I'm not like that. It's easier to say that I'm not Russian.

10. I hate Russia, that prices are constantly rising here, taxes are growing, that it is unpredictable. I stood in queues so much: for bread, sausage, sugar, salt, cereals, that I am already full to the ears. I'm tired of crises.

First baby impression. Two older brothers and I stand behind the bread. This is the 60th year.

80s. My kids are already in line. These are their impressions. Frozen buses. Lack of clothing. And much more.

2014 Sanctions again.

Again political games and enmity of peoples. Already in the families lay the boundary of hatred. This is why I hate Russia.

This list I can go on and on. And at the same time, Russia is my country, from which I will not leave. Because there are many things that keep me here.

We have a huge house where I live.

A very good hostess. Head of our housing and communal services. A real Soviet teacher who works not for money, but for her conscience. Can't do it any other way. In the morning, we drag carts with her (next to the Lenta store), which for some reason the residents did not roll back. We collect abandoned packages at the entrances, for some reason they were not brought to the trash can. IN summer days we walk around with black bags and collect garbage. Papers, candy wrappers, plastic bottles.

We want it to be clean. In the morning everything starts from the beginning. Because from the upper floors, someone threw diapers on the lawn, heaps of shit (sorry) from dogs, empty beer bottles and so on.

Is it possible to love us like this? Simply assholes?

We, tourists, are so indignant that it is dirty in India, in Egypt. What about us, is it clean? Personally, is your entryway clean? In your entrance, elevator, yard? After all, only a few people clean and put things in order (by the way, I’m not in the state), others just look at it and continue to spoil, be rude, spoil, destroy, litter, swear, drink vodka on the playground, make noise at night, just behave inappropriately. -humanly.

I have a friend who lost her teeth. Only the court received compensation. Do you think the driver came to apologize? Nothing like this! Therefore, our problems, our disrespect for people, our boorish behavior and the lack of any moral and moral standards should not be shifted to foreign tourists, such as those who do not know our specifics. I know, but it doesn't make it any easier for me.

Our Russia is different.

"Mystery of the soul", but about us. But this is Dostoevsky and what we are proud of.

Drunk, cattle, gopota - this is also about us.

Great literature and poor teachers who teach it.

Beautiful nature and littered provincial towns, mired in drunkenness and permissiveness. I also hate this Russia...

That's all I wanted to say.

But, thank God, I have another Russia. Which I love...

Damned country. Godforsaken 1/6 of the land. How did I manage to be born in this totalitarian state? - showing the pass, I pass through the factory turntable, and my eyes, for the umpteenth time, rest on the tired words "Putin is alive, Putin will live" and "Glory to the National Public Front."
Your mother ... how I'm tired of all this. I've been tired of it for a long time. Even at school, when we were all treated with an incomprehensible subject “History of United Russia”. Only Democracy knows how much I hated the brochure “Quotes by V.V. Putin” and the multivolume “V.V. Putin with A.G. Lukashenka and N. Nazarbaev”.
Then there was the army. Even the daily political information that the major special officer read to us did not inspire such disgust as our combatant song:

After the army, I thought for a long time how to live on. Admission to the institute, even out of competition, because he served in the army, disappeared immediately. I extremely disliked the prospect of participating in the annual youth forums on Seliger, working during the summer holidays in a vegetable store with Belarusian potatoes and being assigned, after graduation, to some shabby town of the Customs Union. And spit on a solid salary. I am not a silent redneck who can be used as a packer of potatoes and driven into the Kazakh "caravanserai" with kicks.
So I chose a factory in my hometown that, frankly, makes me sick.
I am sick of the portraits of the Leader hanging on every corner and banners with his quotes, I am sick of monthly subbotniks when, like many, I have to go out with a broom and do the work for which I am not paid, and bookstores are incredibly infuriated , where the abundance of ideologically seasoned books for adults and children (such as "Putin and the stove-maker", "How Volodya passed the exams" and the Complete Works of V.V. Putin in 55 volumes) is crazy. I hate this city, as well as all the others.
I go into the workshop, where a huge banner hangs with the inscription "To work without marriage - to work in Putin's way", and immediately I run into our locksmith.
This rogue informs me in a whisper that there is smuggled parmesan, dor blue and jamon. I say with ostentatious indignation that all these European pickles disgust the true Putinist, while I swallow hungry saliva-cutlets, chops and homemade borscht, you won’t be full, but I am restrained by the fact that, according to rumors, the locksmith is “tapping” on the trade union, which is located under the hood of the FSB. I don't want to risk. Better in the evening I'll go to the underground McDonald's and eat a couple of hamburgers and french fries. Expensive, of course. But it's better than getting a "fifteen" for the possession and use of foreign products.
Totalitarianism, no freedom.

At night, tightly closing the windows with curtains, I catch the Voice of America on the radio, while I shy away from every extraneous sound and all the time I am afraid that I will be detected by a direction finder that travels through the streets of the city night and day.
I don't talk to my neighbors. I know that some of them write to the "office" on the slightest provocation. That is why I rubbed the Salamander label on the insoles of the boots I bought from the traders and brought out the Belarusian brand “Freedom” with a felt-tip pen. Complete hopelessness.
The trade union gave me a free, as a shock worker of the Kremlin labor, a ticket to one of the Crimean sanatoriums with four meals a day, health treatments and bus tours.
This pathetic handout completely crushed me. I remembered the footage of Montmartre, the Cote d'Azur, Antalya, recently seen in an illegal video salon, and I almost cried - I will never see these foreign beauties as I do not recognize the taste of real whiskey and lobster meat. Leaving the borders of this totalitarian state is like flying into space. Available only to a select few.
It is strange that almost every day, manned and cargo ships are launched from the two Russian cosmodromes Plesetsk and Vostochny, the latest military equipment is being built, science and technology are developing by leaps and bounds, and enslaved people do not have the right to go on vacation to Turkey or Egypt . I'm not talking about the possibility of registering in social networks under an assumed name.
I hate this country. There is no freedom of speech. Any criticism of the government is equated with anti-Kremlin propaganda and is punished by the "quarter" camps. We are forced to secretly gather in the kitchen of one or another like-minded person, where we read samizdat Kommersant in an undertone and listen to the forbidden songs of Makarevich. In the dead of night, we disperse one by one, fearing night police patrols, but it's worth it. After such illegal gatherings, I feel free. And it doesn’t matter that in the morning at the checkpoint I will again feel like a slave when I see the inscription “Putin is more alive than all the living,” because I know that everything ends someday.

The citizens of this country are ashamed and despised by her. And those who do not despise are either idiots or scoundrels. The latter, however, also despise, but carefully hide it.

We have a deep-seated “national inferiority” complex. Even in Russian national tales, in contrast to the rest of the world, the main idiot always turns out to be, paradoxically, the Russian. If he cooks porridge from an ax, he will immediately slam or drink both the ax and porridge.

In Russia, some special form of patriotism is cultivated - based solely on hatred of others. Even if in this vein we are talking about our own merits, then, as a rule, in this way: “our ancestors gave them all ... gave!” or “our missiles can give them all such ... give!” This is exactly how the evil insignificance behaves in relation to people whose superiority over itself is felt in the gut.

Our tolerance for any bullying by the authorities over the people is explained extremely simply - “when was it different?” and “how could it be otherwise?”.

We are convinced of the naturalness of this state of affairs. Even if we choose a person we respect as our leader, we immediately begin to quietly hate and despise him. Because a leader cannot be a decent person, and only a fool can take care of people dependent on him, except for relatives. By definition, an official is a thief. He steals, however, not so much from us as from the "state", which determines our sort of contemptuous indulgence. We ourselves are not fools to steal from the "state", if anything. Whether it's a tax or a ticket to travel. What is there, for us the state in general is a kind of punitive body that opposes the “people”, something that interferes with life, but is inevitable. We are fatalists.

We are guided by a complete disregard for the Law, resulting from marginal "concepts", the main of which is opposition to the state.

We despise our leaders who do not change anything in the current state of affairs, and we hate those who decide on reforms that inevitably cause tragic costs... hang all the dogs directly or indirectly authorized by themselves to make decisions.

We, unlike the inhabitants normal world, we consider state employees not to be our own employees, but quite the opposite, enemies who create endless problems for us out of a desire to extract a bribe or simply play a dirty trick. Surprisingly, these employees themselves are trying in every possible way to correspond to this image - as if under the influence of a social stereotype.

It is not we who are puffing up in attempts to appear as a "Great Power" in rags. These attempts are ridiculous to us - since childhood, from our own invented jokes, we know that we were born in a heap of manure, simply "this is our Motherland, son."

We are anxious about our "small Motherland" and friends, but we despise our country and people as a whole. Sometimes we even gloat over the country's failures in the international arena - in such situations, we treat our country as a "state", and perceive the state as a superior enemy.

IN extreme conditions, from the army to emigration, a representative of any nation tries to help his fellow tribesmen. Just not the Russians. A Russian would rather pretend that he is "nicht verstehen" than get involved in the problems of his fellow countryman.

When traveling outside the country, we consider Russians to be the most unwanted fellow travelers and neighbors. More pompous, boorish and stupid people we cannot imagine. It seems that these are the main national traits seen by us in our own compatriots. In themselves.

I don't know who's to blame for what we are. Bloody tsarism, Tatar-Mongols, Bolsheviks, or someone else. I don't analyze, I'm like a Chukchi - what I see, I sing about. I just understand that this is not the place and not the people in which and with whom I would like to live.

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