bing bong

A party where smoke hangs thicker than thoughts and the beat sounds louder than conscience. Everything around is on autopilot - sparkling, laughing, moving, as if life has finally decided to give vent to all its pent-up self-love. This is no place for modesty: sparkles on the wrists, a barbecue of emotions, a little ostentatious happiness and a ton of inner irony. On the outside - ‘flexing on the ex’, on the inside - insecurity, covered up with money and laughter.

Somewhere between self-respect and self-deception, a feeling of control is born, even if only temporary. The air smells of energy, ‘everything at hand, except peace.’ And it seems that antidepressants and cash in the wall solve the same problems - it's just that everyone has their own form of salvation.