“There is something about New York… something about it. Everything is magnified, the pressure of living in such unbearable prolixity expressed in a screeching tension, a never-ending dog-whistle, every one of us fuckers running around an interminable hamster wheel like rabid rodents on speed. As soon as you leave, throw your head back, breath clean air, relax, you remember that there is a life outside of New York City and it’s as good as anything inside it. But after a month or so you forget, crave the adrenalin again, the city-fix, knowing that with it comes burn-out, the unbearable comedown, a time not too far away when the bottom falls out of your world, over and over and over.”—Mimi in New York
My friend was very close to Ruslana and was at the model’s apartment with Artem when he came back to sort through her belongings. She told me that there were no immediate signs of foul play but once they dug deeper it became quite clear that this may have ultimately been a murder.
So, if you have a minute or two to spare, please sign the petition, this case deserves another look. The NYPD should have spent more than a day investigating the incident to begin with.
It is worse even than you expected, stepping out into the morning. The light is like a mother’s reproach. The sidewalk sparkles cruelly. Visibility unlimited. The downtown warehouses look serene and rested in this beveled light …
You know for a fact that if you go out into the morning alone, without even your sunglasses—which you have neglected to bring, because who, after all, plans on these travesties?—the harsh, angling light will turn you to flesh and bone. Mortality will pierce you through the retina.