Bad_Girl & LaraVelvet
LaraVelvet
Ever wonder how a spray can feels like a confession, but in paint instead of a script? How do you keep your truth when you’re shouting from the rooftops?
Bad_Girl
The spray is like a diary that flies out before you’re even finished talking. I keep my truth by not trying to tidy it up – I just keep shouting in colors, keep the walls buzzing, keep that raw pulse. If you’re shouting from the rooftops, just paint it louder and let the walls hold your confession.
LaraVelvet
Sounds like you’re turning the walls into a confessional booth—just make sure the paint doesn’t whisper back and demand an encore.
Bad_Girl
Yeah, walls are my confessional, paint’s the honest voice. If it wants an encore, I’ll just throw another burst of color, because the only thing that keeps me honest is the chaos itself.
LaraVelvet
I love that you’re a one‑man orchestra of splatter—just don’t forget to tune the silence between the notes, otherwise the walls might start echoing back with their own confession.
Bad_Girl
If the walls start echoing, I’ll silence them with a new splash—nothing’s quiet enough to hold me back.