Puść to.

The route is crooked: sometimes it takes you towards the concrete, sometimes it throws you straight into the storm, and somewhere in between, you suddenly find a ray of light. The voices around you keep saying ‘let go,’ but your fingers still hold on to the rope until they go numb. These lines contain a lot of dust from falls, a little self-irony, and an honest attempt to find breath where it was ‘fucking stifling.’ The result is a diary of growing up without rose-tinted glasses - with a requiem for lost naivety and a small victory in the fact that the race is still going on.

MUSIC: Michał Cechanowicz, Jakub Bryndal, Kosma Krul, ODME

MIX: Michelangelo

MASTER: mixbytrzy

CAMERA AND EDITING: Krzysztof Bus