Fin de ce monde

The world has gone mad again - just turn on the news, and your heart starts beating like the bass in an old track: loud, nervous, out of time. It seems that all these important people at the top are playing chess with people, and the pawns are alive, tired, angry. But beneath the din of the news feeds, there is a voice that has not been dulled by cynicism. A voice that still feels, even though it has long since learned to hide its pain behind rhymes and smoke.

This is not about heroism - it's about survival. About a fridge that can hold both milk and sin. About streets where the police are not protection, but a dotted line that is better to avoid. About migrants who are called ‘them’ but who are ‘us.’ And about how inspiration returns not from the light, but from a broken heart.

In this sound, there is weariness with the world and a desperate desire not to remain silent. Even if, after the news, you want to turn everything off.