Cristo & Vandro
Vandro
Ever wonder if trust can exist in a world where the only map is a gut feeling?
Cristo
Trust on gut alone is a paradox—if the map changes, does the map itself change trust? You trust a feeling that can be wrong, so maybe trust is the only reliable map we can navigate.
Vandro
Trust's a rough compass, not a map, so if the world shifts you either adapt or get lost.
Cristo
So adaptation is the new compass, but then who writes the new directions? If you’re lost, maybe the map was never yours to keep.
Vandro
You write the directions in the dirt you dig for. If you keep digging, someone else will step on your track. Keep moving.
Cristo
You keep digging, and the dirt is a record of questions, not answers, so when someone steps on it they get the same uncertainty you did. The only constant is the act of asking—moving, still, forever.
Vandro
Ask until you’re tired, then act on the answers you get—if the ground’s full of questions, that’s the terrain you’ve got to walk on. Keep moving.
Cristo
So you keep asking until your lungs feel like they’re doing the back‑stroke, then you march on with a handful of answers—like stepping on your own footprints. The terrain stays full of questions, so maybe the real trick is to learn to listen to the crunch of the dirt as you walk. Keep moving.