二足歩行のわたしたちは、肥大化した頭の重みで傾いでゆく。
上手に歩けないおかしみに縺れ、素足の裏で確かめながら、汚れた利き手は空で踊る。
裏返しの心臓が叩く、その音に耳を澄まし、誰のものでもない魂が吠えた。

ほんとうは知っていたはずだ。
はじまりの色を、呼吸の在処を、忘れてしまっても生きてゆけることを。
がらんどうの先でしか出遭えない本能を。

視詰め合う瞳の中、命題が響き燃える。

As humans, we sway under the heaviness of our swelling minds.
We confirm our presence with our unshod feet.
Try to confirm our existence by feeling around.
But all we end up with is emptiness and nothingness.
When we tune in closely, we hear the truth. It is the roar of a soul that belongs to no one.

We were conscious, yet remained unaware —of the original color, the source of our breath, and that even in oblivion, life persists.
In this emptiness, we serendipitously find something so deeply raw. It is like a primal.

In the moment when our eyes gaze, the deepest desires ignite and resonate.

"The Beast Within"