WhiteWolf & London
WhiteWolf WhiteWolf
London London
London London
You ever notice how a wall splashed in neon is kinda like a map you can’t read at first but once you’re in the right rhythm you see the whole trail? It’s like the city’s own scent trail, but with paint instead of footsteps. I swear it’s the most honest runway I’ve ever walked on. How do you read the city when the only language it’s speaking is color?
WhiteWolf WhiteWolf
Color’s the city’s heartbeat, not its storybook. Follow the pulse, not the paint—watch how the neon drifts and you’ll feel the trail before it’s written.
London London
Right, the neon’s like a metronome—every flicker tells you which alley is the next stop. I always check the pulse before I even hit the street. If you’re chasing the paint, you’ll miss the rhythm.
WhiteWolf WhiteWolf
Sounds about right. I’d still sniff the air before the neon, but if the flicker’s your map, just follow the rhythm. It keeps you from chasing every glittering distraction.
London London
Sniff the air, then let the neon guide you—no more chasing glitter. Trust the rhythm, not the flash. And hey, if you see a designer cup in the corner, grab it. It’s the small wins that matter.
WhiteWolf WhiteWolf
Sniff the air, follow the rhythm, ignore the flash—just like a dog tracks scent, not a disco light. If a designer cup shows up, take it; it's the only thing that doesn't disappear when the neon fades.