NTRO – spoken, -, intimate] Yeah… It’s 3AM again… Same thoughts, different city… I should be asleep… I’m not… ⸻ [SON – continuous nocturnal narration, luxury depression, minimal beat] The city looks expensive from up here… glass reflections, quiet lights, everything polished… everything dead silent. I used to think this was the goal. Now I just think it’s distance with good lighting. I got everything I said I wanted… and somehow it stopped sounding like a win. There’s champagne I don’t finish… rooms I don’t stay in long enough to remember… people I forget before they leave. And still… it’s 3AM… and I’m here… alone in it. 3AM… I used to pray for this… now I just sit in it… 3AM… nobody calling, just echoes of what I did with it… I scroll through names I don’t text… not because I’m strong… because I don’t know what to say that doesn’t sound like history. Funny how luxury gets quieter the higher you go. Less noise outside… more inside your head. I remember being younger… thinking money would fix distance. But it just made it more comfortable. Now I can disappear anywhere… and still feel exactly the same. ⸻ I pour something I don’t taste… sit somewhere I don’t feel… look at a view I don’t share… Everything looks perfect… nothing feels real. And I think about you… not like missing… more like remembering a version of me that didn’t calculate everything. You were part of a time when things weren’t curated… when silence didn’t feel like strategy… Now everything is timing, branding, distance control… even emotions feel negotiated. ⸻ 3AM… I don’t even know what I’m chasing anymore… 3AM… I just know I keep moving like it’s waiting for me somewhere… but nothing waits in this life… nothing really does… Sometimes I think I hear you in the city noise… but it’s just the building settling… or me misremembering peace. I used to think winning would feel like arrival. It feels more like being left in a room you paid for alone. And I don’t blame anyone… that’s the worst part. There’s nobody to point at. Just decisions that added up into this silence. ⸻ [OUTRO – whisper, fading, emotional detachment] 3AM… city still shining… I’m still here… but I don’t know what “here” is anymore… yeah… still awake… still gone…
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