DA DENUNCIA

Somewhere between bitterness and self-satisfaction, a rhythm beats that smells of gasoline and the sweat of night highways. Everything around us seems to be built on violations of rules, promises, and boundaries. But not for the sake of posing, but because it's simply not possible otherwise. Everyone has their own "denunciation"; some write a statement, others a song. The cold of the glass feels warmer than the whiteness of the coat, and honesty is the only luxury you can't buy. Here, every "sorry" sounds like a shot into the air: late, loud, but beautiful. And in this noise, there's something painfully real, when you don't ask for forgiveness for your sins, but simply turn up the volume.