Sketchghost & MayaVega
Sketchghost Sketchghost
MayaVega MayaVega
MayaVega MayaVega
Do you ever notice how the city lights flicker like a breath, casting shadows that shift and whisper secrets?
Sketchghost Sketchghost
Yeah, it’s like the city takes a breath, and every flicker is a secret you’re supposed to catch before it slips away.
MayaVega MayaVega
Exactly. And sometimes the secrets feel more like memories—soft, fleeting, and all we’re left with is the echo of a flicker.
Sketchghost Sketchghost
It’s funny how we chase those flickers, but all we keep is the echo, a ghostly reminder that even the brightest lights can’t hold onto a memory for long.
MayaVega MayaVega
Yeah, we chase the glow, but the echo is the only thing that sticks around. It’s like the city’s own way of saying memories are never really lost, just transformed.
Sketchghost Sketchghost
So we chase the glow, and the echo is the city’s cold joke—memories never die, they just get smeared into the neon dust.
MayaVega MayaVega
You’re right—neon’s just a smudge on the walls of our minds, a reminder that every bright moment leaves a trace, even if it’s just a faint glow in the dark.