Opalite

It's like a note in a notebook, written after a long sleepless night. There are many ghosts here - past relationships, empty promises, attempts to grab love by the wings while she flips through her phone. And there is a lot of self-irony: comparisons with ‘food from the trash’ sound not like a complaint, but like an honest admission of fatigue from one's own habits.

But along with this, there is light. In the chorus, the night becomes not black, but onyx, and the sky becomes opal. This is music about how, after a storm, the thunder suddenly stops, and amid the ruins of old stories, a calm, almost transparent feeling appears: you no longer need to wait for the sun, you can make it yourself.