I’m a proud U.S. RN, isolated in a socialist paradise where “freedom of speech” is a distant dream, and basic survival is like a sport.

Here, the only guarantee is that my fridge will be as empty as my chances of finding justice for what they did to me—and possibly my future too.

Let me tell you about the scene. I live in a gang-controlled apartment block in a neighborhood where criminals roam free and “society” provides special support to people who would normally need their own warning labels.

Surrounded by organized crime members, crazy “eccentrics” (to not say transgenders) who double as neighborhood watch-women, and mentally unstable folks — but no, here they’re all embraced as model citizens. Why?

Because their crime rings fund the very socialism that I’m stuck in.

Turns out, dirty money buys a lot of social welfare!

Now, about those pants.

My three pairs of beloved, second-hand pants—poof! Stolen.

Imagine my distress: one day, they were all there, and the next, they were off roam around the city, possibly in the hands of one of my criminally-inclined neighbors.

Was it Mihailov (Mike to his mob friends), the paranoid guy who wanders around gripping random pairs of pants like they’re his prized possessions?

Or maybe the “fashion-conscious” gang member from a rival faction who, for reasons beyond me, decided that my worn-out pants were just what they needed to complete their latest ensemble.

The transgender woman sponsoring the homeless people, could be too, because she was a homeless and is into the ring ding ding organized crime circles of community “sharing”? Sure she can!

Now, as a rational person, I considered going to the police.

Then I realized: we’re in socialism, baby! This is a land where if you complain about stolen pants, you’re met with blank stares and reminded that society comes first.

“Why should we care about your pants?” they’d ask. “You’re just one person, and we’re busy protecting the collective!”

Who cares if my apartment gets violated, as long as “society” feels safe and sound?

In fact, every job I’ve found here—the ones that proudly claim to “improve society”—is suspiciously linked to organized crime.

You could connect the dots on my resume and end up with a full-blown organized crime SOCIALIST tree.

“Why do they let you go?”. Because they were clique, gang or organized crime and I refused to be part of them! How does it sound to a job interview?

But here’s the kicker: I still keep speaking up. I protest that they’ve robbed me of my pants, my food, my safety, my career, my dreams, and most of my sanity, lol.

So here I am, in a socialist reality funded by crime, shivering in my pants-less glory, with no real hope for change.

My one piece of advice? If anyone tells you, socialism is THE HEAVEN, kindly point them to my empty fridge, my lost pants, my apartment door used by the criminals in my neighborhood and my destroyed life.

Socialism is NOT heaven! Is the HELL and Organized Crime at the top level!

Why did they steal my old pants? Why did they mess with my life?