パラノイドランデブー

It's like someone turned anxiety up to the maximum and forgot where the "off" button is. The world around us is a glitch, where every emotion is embedded with digital noise, and behind every "hello" lies a hidden code. Paranoia is in my head, but it's beautiful: with neon, echoes, and smooth transitions between fear and tenderness. Everything seems unreal, but the pain only distorts for a fraction of a second - then it returns to the heart, like a reflection from a glass screen. They don't cry here - they just hide their eyes behind a mask, like a filter in a live broadcast. They laugh thru pixels, hold themselves straight even if everything inside is a blur. And somewhere in this chaos of sounds and phrases, a quiet desire suddenly emerges - that one day we could laugh at all of this sincerely. Without a code, without a system, without the dangerous inscription "do not open."