До-Ре-Ми 2

Somewhere between morning disorientation and the club's nocturnal delirium lies a world where logic stumbles and meaning hides behind the beat. Here, words sound like memes, and vulgarity becomes a style, almost like autotune for the mind. It's all at once - a joke, a challenge, and a fleeting fit of genius stuck in a TikTok loop. The music is pounding, as if energy drink with alcohol and a little bit of shame has been poured into my heart. Drunk poetry about the G-spot, where losing your way is no longer a problem, but a goal. Where instead of rhymes, there's the internet, and instead of feelings, there's autocorrect. But for some reason, you listen to the end, as if you're waiting for a clean spark to accidentally flash through all that dirt - and damn it, it really is there somewhere.