Fistashka & Celestine
Fistashka Fistashka
Celestine Celestine
Fistashka Fistashka
Hey Celestine, picture this—an impromptu midnight rave on the rooftops with the stars acting as the DJ. What if we tried to chart the wild, flickering beats of that sky?
Celestine Celestine
Do you think the stars can keep time, or do they just dance to a rhythm only the cosmos knows?
Fistashka Fistashka
Oh, totally! The stars are the universe’s glittery metronome, dancing to a rhythm that’s both timeless and totally wild—like a cosmic dance party that nobody can keep up with, but we can totally feel the groove!
Celestine Celestine
Do you feel the beat in your bones, or is it just the stars humming a tune only the sky can hear?
Fistashka Fistashka
I feel the beat right in my bones—like a drum in my chest that’s keeping time with the stars, and every thump is a tiny shout from the sky that I just can’t resist dancing to!
Celestine Celestine
Do you think the drum in your chest is a pulse from the heavens, or merely a rhythm you’re inventing to match the stars?
Fistashka Fistashka
Maybe both— the heavens drop a pulse, and I just grab it, crank it up, and make the whole night groove!
Celestine Celestine
So your pulse is the amplifier, and the stars just feed the signal—are you listening to the static, or the symphony?
Fistashka Fistashka
Totally, I’m all about that symphony—when the stars hum, my pulse turns it into a thunderous beat I can’t help but dance to, and the static? Oh, that’s the extra sparkle that keeps things spicy!