selokichtli

They are forced. They fight against the Ukrainian Army for their survival, because being drafted means they will probably die at this point. If they could keep avoiding the army, they would probably survive until this madness ends.

You can have your side on this and think Ukraine is fighting for survival, but that's a point of view, an idea. Some facts are:

1. Ukraine is currently loosing this war. It's even territorial.
2. Ukraine is loosing support from their allies. And if Trump wins, which is somehow plausible, they'd be practically alone.
3. Recently drafted citizens are just that, they are not soldiers. With their morale, they probably aren't even fighters.
4. A good chunk of the remaining Ukrainian people don't want to fight no more.
5. Drafting more inexperienced citizens will at best slow down the course of the current events.

Argument: War is almost lost. People are finite.

It also sounds like "malo" in Spanish which means "bad".

Wouldn't say anything. I'd think about this song: "I took her to an elevator, I don't know why but it had to start in somewhere, so it started there".

Here, I've been called a "tankie" and the next day a "nazi". Super nice.

Not an audiophile spotted!

It's clearly a giant.

You should also take into account the animosity against lemmy.ml in general from some instances and communities. Something to do with the moderation here or something else.

The one about the head of my sister.

It was a total tragedy. My sister dies at fifteen in a train accident, all messed up. Except her head. While mourning for her, my family members start hearing rumors about her being miraculous. The rumors became a cult. The thing is, my sister's head was invulnerable. Her head wasn't damaged at all in the train wreck, and even dead, her head wasn't decomposing.

People started coming to see it by themselves. It was true. Her head was pristine, but for us, for me, it was still my older sister. The cult became a part of the church. They built some temple for her head where people could go to see her. I remember the altar. It was all made of crystal, sometimes they put flowers there, giving it some color. Her head was inside a crystal cube on a pedestal, so people could watch her from every direction. They put her a crown, like a quinceañera (this is similar to a humble crown in one of those female beauty contests). To get to her head, people had to climb like a hundred crystal steps, curved, not straight.

My sister's head wasn't neither alive. The head didn't age but also wouldn't talk. Her eyes were always shut, but you could see her face, her mouth displaying different recognizable expressions, like a shy smile or some concern. She looked beautiful.

Probably the invasion of our civilization by an army of some rock-like anthropomorphic civilization. They were intelligent and very hard to hurt. Even if I dreamed them as a child, I still remember their faces and big heads with those cat eyes. They were never alone and sized like robust basketball players.

Delonix regia, the original flamboyant.

Reading the comments I just realized how much I like literature nerds.