“In this world where there’s no point in trying your best The fame and glory I dreamed of in the past were fabricated by someone else In the end, we are just a cog in someone’s or something’s machine. I don’t know if I’m alive or if I’m being kept alive Even if you put cloth, thread, and needles to a mannequin, I can no longer see any new possibilities ahead Even though I know it’s pointless, I try to distract myself by talking to someone or drinking alcohol. Spending each day calmly In order to look forward, I forced myself to vent my anger on books, records, good food, and designer clothes. In the end, all I know is that there’s nothing beyond that But still, the only way I can breathe is by continuing to search for something Twice a year, I try to push myself and get a lot of people involved I keep repeating the same thing without thinking or feeling anything so that I won’t break down Major events in the outside world are becoming more and more commonplace. Things that felt like a while ago are becoming mundane I felt like I was being manipulated again. If I’m going to die in the end anyway I wanted to try something that I could love, even if it was a lie. I tried to give form to such an ordinary story.”
