Exactly two years ago, I returned to Russia. And I have now spent exactly two years in prison. And when you write a post like this, whether you want to or not, you ask yourself: how many more of these anniversary posts will I have to write? But life and everything happening around us suggest the answer themselves: as many as it takes. Our unhappy, suffering Motherland needs saving. It has been robbed, wounded, dragged into an aggressive war, and turned into a prison run by the most shameless and deceitful scoundrels. Any resistance to this gang—even if only symbolic, given my current limited circumstances—matters. As I said two years ago, Russia is my country. I was born and raised here, my parents are here, and this is where I built my family—where I found the person I love and where my children were born. I am a full citizen, and I have the right to join with those who think as I do and to engage in political activity. And there are many of us—certainly more than there are corrupt judges, lying propagandists, and Kremlin thieves. I do not intend to surrender my country to them, and I believe the darkness will lift. But as long as it remains, I will do what I can, try to do what is right, and urge everyone not to give in to despair. Russia will be happy!