In the dead of night, I hear a bird singing.
Do birds also sing at night?
Is there a city without people?
Is there a body without a soul?
Do birds also sing at night?
Is there a city without people?
Is there a body without a soul?
In this urban space, all that is left for me is to wander. The city is familiar to me, but its boundaries are indistinct. The characters I encounter are not merely inhabitants—they reveal within themselves traces of the space they occupy—merging into the city's very cement, like monarchical representatives of this explored territory. They grow invisible roots, absorb its influence, existing in this symbiotic way of being.
Memories shape history, scars expose themselves, and I observe.
The birds sing.
Memories shape history, scars expose themselves, and I observe.
The birds sing.
I am on a journey of discovery—facing the mirror of life. Even so, at times, I do not recognize myself!
