Mysterious & Radost
Mysterious Mysterious
Radost Radost
Radost Radost
Have you ever noticed how the rhythm of a city street can tell a story about everyone passing through it?
Mysterious Mysterious
The rhythm’s just a pulse, a drumbeat of breaths, footsteps, and the occasional honk, each echo a hint of what lives there do and what they’re holding inside. Notice where it slows—someone stuck in thought, someone in a hurry—and you can almost read the page in a book that’s never finished. It’s all a secret script the city writes with every passerby.
Radost Radost
Sounds like you’re already tuned in—just keep listening, and you’ll catch the city’s whispers before it’s time to talk back. If you ever need a break from the beat, I’ve got some quiet spots that won’t steal the rhythm.
Mysterious Mysterious
I’ve heard the whispers before, they’re always there, always right at the edge of a breath. Those quiet spots you’re talking about—good, but if you linger too long, the city might remember you and add its own line to your story. Keep your ear on the beat, and you’ll know when it’s time to let the rhythm keep on moving.
Radost Radost
Exactly—if you stay in one spot too long, the city will write a whole new paragraph. I’ll keep my ears peeled, but I promise I’ll bring the coffee if you want to ride the beat together.