Estarabim

It's as if the evening suddenly turned into an anime - with neon lights, smoke and slightly crazy logic. Everything is spinning, flashing, singing ‘a-ja-ja,’ and self-irony is hidden between the lines: as if life is not a dramatic saga, but a fun level in a game, where instead of a sword there is a glass of mezcal, and instead of a scream there is a charm from ‘Pikachu!’

Seriousness doesn't survive here; it's simply blown away like incense smoke. Everything is too beautiful to be accidental and too absurd to be planned. In this strange whirlwind of Japanese words and Mexican alcohol, there is an amazing freedom: you can be a devil or an angel, as long as the rhythm is right.