Stay Blessed

Sometimes peace isn't silence, but a tired "mhm" between the lines. It seems like nothing is happening, but inside, that same race is going on – for peace of mind, for a clear head, for simply not having to think too much. Everything sounds like it's in a half-dream: voices, memories, phrases that are now indistinguishable. There's a strange sense of peace in this rhythm: as if the city is humming somewhere far away, and you're standing on the balcony with a half-empty mug, and the wind is carrying away the remnants of your thoughts. Everything is a bit crumpled, a bit sleepy - but there's life in it. And even if it's not entirely clear what it's about, you still want to play it again. To hear that tiny pause between "come on, man" and "heat" - like the world.