血湧き肉踊る

It feels like someone gathered the whole world out of sounds and let it wander unsupervised. At first, tentative beats, as if a heart is trying a new rhythm after sleep, then the bass kicks in, giving everything confidence and weight. The melody expands and then contracts again, as if hesitant to speak loudly, but it is in this uncertainty that its charm lies. The music shimmers like light through glass on a rainy day – nothing special, it seems, but something important clicks inside. In the end, there's a strange feeling as if the conversation was cut short, but the meaning is still clear. You don't always need to finish speaking to hear the most important thing.