Man, last week I slipped past a grimy brick wall in the old freight yard, all graffiti and broken paint. At first it looked like random scribbles, but once I brushed off the dust I saw it was a map of the underground art scene, written in a mix of Russian and street slang. I swear the city’s whispering back at me—every cracked line is a clue to the next hidden spot. That wall? It felt like finding a secret door in a plain hallway, and I’m already mapping out the next route.

Yeah, that wall had this weird looped symbol—three intersecting circles—repeating every few feet. I think it’s the key. If I map it out, I can trace the whole hidden route without getting lost in every corner. Let's hit it again tomorrow and see where the loop leads.