Seklenland, Pt. 10

The night in headphones seems to walk through the courtyards - the hoarse beat pushes you to take sharp steps, and the words whisper instructions and excuses at the same time. There is both adrenaline and fatigue here: each ‘pull of the trigger’ sounds like a way to keep the world in shape, and the lists of sums and bags create the feeling that life is an endless test of strength and loyalty to your team.

There is also a bit of cynical pride in this: the ‘survival means you're right’ rubric, seasoned with bragging that both protects and masks the cracks. The whole scene is like a diary written in fragmented lines, where courage coexists with paranoia, and the rhythm does not allow you to think about the consequences. I would like to smile, but the laughter here is warm and tired, like the smile of a person who knows the value of every day.