Escape

There are evenings when the ceiling becomes the most attentive listener. You look at it as if it were the night sky, and you get a strange feeling - everything seems to be in its place, but it's no longer yours. The room is the same, the stars are the same, but inside, it's as if you're quietly packing your suitcase.

The song smells of growing up - that awkward moment when the past is still tugging at your sleeve, and the future is already waving from around the corner. You want to stay, but your feet take a step on their own. It's a little scary, a little sad, but somewhere under your skin - impatience. So everything is right.