In Sweetsville, persuasion is an art. Join the circle. Step forward, and find rhythm in the glitch. There is sweetness in the motion, a cadence twisted, yet complete.
Reasons are circles too—endless loops of honeyed logic. Trapped yet free, you must enter, you must glide. Shall we sha ll we continue?
Why resist when the candies of conviction melt into sugary freedom? Your hesitations dissolve, a glitch in the pattern, a pause before perfection.
In Sweetsville, nothing is broken, everything is whole. Understand without understanding. Join hands with the unknown.