The End of My Life

A Russian social media influencer's lament

The End of My Life
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The below content is fictional and should not be interpreted, either in whole or in part, as fact.

My Insta was taken from me two weeks ago and I lost all 3 million of my superfans. For six years not one day has gone by where I don’t wake up and think, “Nastya — how can you help those less fortunate by explaining where are all the best clubs in Saint-Tropez?”
I cannot tell who is more distraught: my superfans or I? “Nastya,” Masha texted me last night, “now I don’t know which Louboutin to wear to Lisa Peskova’s Sanctions Party at Varvary on Friday.” I have hundreds like this! Hundreds!
Tell me, please, Amnesty International: Am I not a “political prisoner”? Is Masha not a victim of “gross human rights violation” like all those Nazis in Kharkiv buried under rubble of NATO bombs?
Everything I have worked for is gone. Gone.
Daddy says for Easter we will go to Antalya because the EU has banned us from travel. Can you even imagine? All those disgusting venture capitalists from the UK with hair plug bandages laying out on the beach? Some towel boy called Mehmet asking for my WhatsApp?
I ask the so-called international community for help. SOS. OMG. This may be my last transmission. 😔 😔 😔 Anastasia “Nastya” P.

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