Scarface

When bragging is adorned with chains and tattoos, and the conditional code to someone else's heart is in your pocket, a strange feeling arises - a loud display and a subtle wound nearby. Here there is the pathos of money, the request to open the ‘coffer’ of the soul, and a timid attempt to convince of sincerity through diamonds and slang; all at once funny and pitiful, like a fleeting selfie in the mirror of the night metro.

It sounds like a diary entry made to a thumping bass: lots of poses, a little more vulnerability, and somewhere between ‘you're fresh’ and ‘I'll go back to my banknotes’ shines through the desire to be understood. Laughter and sadness go hand in hand, and the request for the password to the heart turns out to be almost poetic - this is roughly what modern romantic codes look like when viewed without illusions and with a touch of warm irony.