BREAKING: The Ukraine Nightmare They Don’t Want You to See
BREAKING: The Ukraine Nightmare They Don’t Want You to SeeThe cameras turned away, but the explosions didn’t — this is the terror, and the courage, they’re not telling you aboutLast night, while most of America was sleeping, Ukraine was living through hell. From early evening into the black hours before dawn, the sky over Kyiv and across the country filled with the sound you never forget once you’ve heard it: the sick, hungry buzz of attack drones and the distant roar of incoming missiles. In a single night, 449 aerial threats were sent to erase lives and break a nation’s spirit. Not soldiers on a battlefield — families in their beds. In Kyiv, the first explosions felt like the sky cracking open. Windows blew out before people even made it to their hallways. Mothers grabbed children out of warm beds, dragging them barefoot over broken glass to bathtubs and corridors they hoped might hold.  In Desnianskyi, three people never got that chance. By the time the fire trucks arrived, it was already over for them. Somewhere, their phones were still buzzing with unread messages as smoke curled through their apartments. In Dniprovskyi, a five-story building stood there like a punched-out tooth — one side blackened, balconies ripped open. A man stared up at the charred gap where his living room used to be. He wasn’t crying. He just stood there in his slippers, holding a plastic bag with the only things he managed to grab
In Darnytskyi, drone debris fell into a schoolyard. A place that should be filled with kids running and laughing was suddenly lit up by the flames of a burning car. A swing creaked back and forth, empty, as smoke drifted across the playground. In Podilskyi, the fire climbed up an apartment building, floor by floor. Around the 12th floor, someone’s curtains flashed orange and then vanished. A family huddled on the stairs with their dog, the stairwell thick with smoke, the only light coming from phone flashlights and burning apartments
In Solomianskyi, on the 5th floor, an old woman stood in the doorway as firefighters rushed past. She clutched her passport and a framed photo of her grandson in uniform. She didn’t know where she would sleep that night. She just knew she couldn’t stay
Almost every corner of Kyiv — Dniprovskyi, Podilskyi, Shevchenkivskyi, Solomianskyi, Holosiivskyi, Sviatoshynskyi, Darnytskyi, Desnianskyi, Obolonskyi — woke up to shattered windows, punched-in walls, burned-out cars. Not just apartments, but medical facilities, shops, buses, offices — the ordinary skeleton of daily life, pummeled for the crime of existing. In Kyiv region, more than 25 people were wounded, including a 7-year-old child who will now grow up knowing what a missile sounds like before they know what normal feels like again.  And just as the smoke started to clear, just as people swept glass from their floors and taped plastic over their windows, the next night came. New sirens. New swarms of drones. New Kinzhal missiles screaming toward cities in the north, south, and east. Another night of people pressing themselves against cold hallway walls, counting the seconds between explosions and wondering if this is the one that ends their story.  This is what winter in Ukraine looks like now. And as all this is happening, as the fires burn and the sirens wail, Donald Trump says nothing. No words for the dead. No outrage for the wounded. It’s not complicated. On one side, you have families huddled in bathtubs while concrete shakes around them. On the other side, you have a man who calls Putin a “genius,” promises to “end the war in 24 hours,” and can’t bring himself to say a single word about nights like this. Silence is a choice. And Trump has chosen his side. While the drones are buzzing over Kyiv, while glass rains down and sirens scream, one of our own is out there on those roads. Our brother Oleksandr — part of this community, part of this movement — is driving through this nightmare, headlights cutting through the dark, trunk filled with boxes instead of luggage.  Where other people see a red map of air raid warnings, he sees a list of places he needs to get to. Inside his car: Food. Medicine. Power banks. Warm clothes. Supplies for people who don’t have the luxury of leaving.  Behind him: His own family, living under the same skies, under the same sirens, with the same fear. Ahead of him: Villages and cities that most of the world has forgotten. Apartment blocks with plastic taped where windows used to be. Children who flinch at every loud noise. Old men who refuse to leave their homes, sitting at kitchen tables in coats and hats because they don’t know when the heat will go out. If you’ve ever wondered what courage looks like, it’s not just soldiers on the front line. It’s people like Olexander, loading up a car and driving toward the danger because somebody has to.  He is able to do that because you helped put fuel in his tank. Because you made sure there was something in those boxes. Every time you donated, every time you shared his mission, every time you refused to look away, you kept him moving. If you’ve given already:https://gofund.me/d43a2b9b0 Thank you. God bless you. You are part of this story in the best way. If you haven’t yet — or if you can give again — I’m asking you, with a full and heavy heart: please do. We can’t sit back and wait for “leaders” who hold press conferences while people in Kyiv hold their breath in hallways. We can’t wait for someone to swoop in and save our democracy, or Ukraine, or any of us. I know now, more than ever, that no one is coming unless we become those people ourselves. I was part of MAGA. I saw what it really is: a machine that feeds on fear, chaos, and human lives. I helped build some of that, and I will spend the rest of my life tearing it down, piece by piece. That’s why I’m writing these letters. That’s why I’m asking you to stand with me — not as spectators, but as a movement. If this letter hit you in the gut, if you can picture those apartments, those schoolyards, that little kid in Kyiv with shrapnel in their city and in their memories — don’t just feel it. Act on it. How You Can Help, Right Now 1. Support Oleksandrs Missions on the Ground He is out there delivering aid under the same drones and missiles I just described. Every dollar keeps him moving: fuel, food, medicine, essentials. Real help, in real time. 2. Subscribe – and If You Can, Become a Paid Subscriber This Substack is not just a newsletter. It’s our home base. It’s where we tell the truth the media won’t touch, where we connect the dots, where we build something bigger than outrage — we build action.
Paid subscriptions are what give me the ability to keep doing this work every single day. 3. Support Our Work Directly If you want to help me keep sounding the alarm, building this movement, and standing up to Trump, MAGA, and Putin’s terror, here are my direct links:
You’re not funding a think tank. You’re helping us stay in this fight — for democracy, for truth, for the people under those sirens. 4. Visit LevRemembers.com & Get Shadow Diplomacy To understand how we got here — how the Trump–Russia–Ukraine backchannels were really built — and why nights like this are not an accident, get my book: 👉 Shadow Diplomacy – the truth Trump is trying to hide. And make sure to visit: This is where you’ll find everything we’re building together. Tonight, there will be more sirens in Ukraine. Somewhere, another child will wake up to the sound of an explosion instead of an alarm clock. Somewhere, another father will tape plastic over a missing window and hope the heat stays on. Somewhere, another car like Oleksandrs will be rolling through the dark, headlights cutting through smoke. And somewhere here, in America, Trump will keep his mouth shut about all of it. But we don’t have to be silent. Thank you for reading. Thank you for standing with me, with Olexander, with Ukraine, and with everyone fighting — in every way they can — against authoritarianism. God bless you. God bless America. Slava Ukraini. — Lev Parnas |
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