Przyjacielu Mój

Life is like a race without brakes - sometimes speeding around the Monte Carlo curves, sometimes skidding off the road. Here, scars are not decorations, but trophies for the courage to be alive, for trying to understand the meaning of this constant pursuit. Mistakes warm you if they were honest, and friendship becomes the compass that doesn't break even in a storm. It has salt, sweat, and a little blood - but it's real, without filters.

And when everything around you is cracking with falsehood, and luck is turning its nose up again, there is one simple rule: pour, inhale, look up. Because tomorrow there will be another battle - and once again, there will be someone by your side who will not run away. Not saints, not heroes - just people stubbornly staying the course through their storms.