Think of You (2025) Asunojokei 🇯🇵 Japan

Someone once told me that others are hell.
Say goodbye to the city lights while singing a song out of tune.
Someone once told me that freedom is punishment.
I never imagined that being blessed was the beginning of misery.

That hand over there.
Another hand over there.
I’ll rush toward the sound.
I don’t think I can stand any more.
Not understanding anything or being understood by anything.
But the shimmering and accelerating rhythm won't wait for me.

Oh, it hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts.
I want to know... where is this pain taking us?

Oh, it hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts.
The pain that can kill me.
Please take me.
Take me to the purgatory that removes the darkness that doesn’t hurt me.

I’m soaking my whole healthy body in a ditch.
If being hurt is what makes you decent.
Why can't I just hurt myself?

The glimmer of the city may be a light
that is allowed to those who have hurt and accepted each other.
Oh, it hurts.
It hurts.
I wish I could reach you.
Reach the pain that tears my body apart.

I miss you.
I want to be with you.
I’m hoping for a sign.
I’ll kill any feeling of being betrayed.
I’ll wait for your flash of light that seems to trap the universe.

Rush toward the sound.
Rush toward the heat.
Toward the falling moon.
Toward the spinning heaven.
Toward the end of the pain, where Stella twinkled.

The west sky where the sun sinks red.
The east sky where the sun rises blue.
A magical moment that makes you feel like you have to leave here soon.

But I can't tell you,
because your gift remains beside god's lap.

In the crowded galleria,
I wonder if you are having fun.
I, who am cowardly and arrogant,
think about such things all the time.

Sensitive to one’s pain,
but indifferent to the pain of others.
The beauty of the world is determined by such poets and the bible.
But I can’t even tell you the color of the sky.

Under this sky,
I want to bring you a vivid magic.
And I want you to show me the sparkle that only you can see.

Stepping on the pain of others
and imposing one’s pain on others.
The justice of the world is no longer determined by people like us.
I don't know if I can tell you what color the sky is,
but let me stay by your side.

You don't have to disappear silently.
Let's walk together someday, proudly.

I am the power.
I am the message.
As my heart desires.
I am the angel.

A ship loaded with red, white, and green containers leaves the port.
The ship that never arrives at the children waiting for a leaden Christmas Eve.
I trembled with unexpected anger toward the unknown sailor.

What kind of system will be the next god?
By using all kinds of strategies,
our reason and instinct are tormented.
During the competition and strife,
I heard someone laughing.

So, if your ship is lost,
let me pray for the foggy sea to clear up soon.
To bloom the gospel,
we need you.
The color of eyes you don't know,
the intention behind the words you don't know,
those are what we need.
Even if you don't accept me.
Even if I can't accept you.
“I think of you.”
“Would you think of me?”
I'm not an angel.

“I don't know.”
“It's so creepy.”
You long for dialogue.
The voice is as fragile as the words scattered on Babel.
And justice mocks.

On the other side of the gun barrel pointed at me was you,
a stranger who insisted you were an angel.
When I close my eyes,
I can see how much you look like a human being.

So, if your fingers are stiff with cold,
let me pray for the freezing night to end soon.
To bloom the gospel,
we need you.
The color of eyes you don't know,
the intention behind the words you don't know,
those are what we need.
Even if you don't accept me.
Even if I can't accept you.
“I think of you.”
“Would you think of me?”
Close your eyes.

Geniuses sing the song for the ordinary.
The strong sing the song of the weak.

“I’m just a human.”
“You’re special.”
There’s no salvation inside my headphones.

The words I wanted to hear.
Poured into me as if they were completely aimed at me.
I’m fulfilled.
I’m drowning.

The misery of being offered a helping hand.
The emptiness of taking the hand.
Have you ever imagined?
Probably not.

It’s meaningless if I’m not on the supportive side.
It's not worth it if I’m the one being supported.
Please forgive me for this proposition.

In the city where cobalt falls,
I wish I could hold you back.
Not a storm that destroys the malls,
but an autumn breeze that makes the flowers bloom on the street.

Shout to the corrupted dreams adults threw away
by saying life will bloom in the future anyway.
“Let them crash!”
“No, they can land!”
We don’t even understand what each other means.
Cynical you and optimistic me.

“Let me count your sins.”
Your nasty starts again.
I stare at the fight through the screen and dump my old coffee.

The shadow of the evil Kobold sewn into our heels.
Kids who don't know the classroom are coughing badly in the dark.
“At least I’ll try not to forget them.”
Can I fight against such an ego?

“It’s not worth living.”
“I’m not afraid to die.”
“Is that a sentiment enough to keep it for life?”
You used to mock Nihilism, but now you don’t seem to care.

How much better would it be if I could wash away
the sins I have ignored and the past I have hurt
by my irrelevant good deeds?
"See, that's how you cheat again."

“It’s not a sentiment enough to keep it for life.”
Still, I will cherish this ego of mine for the rest of my life.
Even though this city is cold,
I want to see the world where you found a reason to fight.

In the city where cobalt falls,
I will hold you back and set the morning glow beside you.
Not a storm that destroys the malls,
but the autumn breeze that makes the flowers bloom on the street,
is what we make.

I can’t keep talking shit while
we fail to pay the price of wealth.
Me, you think that's how you started?
Don’t be just sentimental.
The only thing barking is my one and only ergo.

You find a little morning on the side of the road
that looks like a big grain of sugar dusted.
Your fingertips burn pale.
You look up and it’s already time to be late.

One night, the red light of an ambulance illuminated.
The post spit out newspapers at dawn.
You didn't know the sun was so low at this time of day on this usual road.

Ones that melt in the morning
are stories that are not yet relevant to you now.

Today is a winter day with crystals shining brightly.
You continue to take side paths.
You, who have not yet learned to rush,
give a name to your little friend.
You give a wonderful name to a little friend
who will be gone by the time you return.

Yet you don’t know your destiny.
The farewell. (They’ll never meet again.)
If a new house is built around that bend,
you won't be dazzled anymore.

Today is a windy spring day with crystals shining brightly.
You, grown up, rushing by the window.
You, who look busy every day,
give a name to your little friend.
What was that sloppy name you gave your little friend
who remained melted away each morning?

Faced with fate,
you still try to reach for eternity.
Until the day the stories are no longer relevant to you,
you will give a name to a little life
with a magic that will one day lose its meaning.

With the wrinkled fingertips that burned pale that day,
you will give a name to your little friend again.
“I want to see you again in the spring."

My heart breaks
when I hear the voices shouting to live life to the fullest.
I think of grass and flowers in the shadows
under the lives stretching toward the sky.
My heart hurts for the true nature,
but I was proud at the same time.

The airship carrying the beautiful and the wise
disappears into the clean horizon.
There must be a paradise.
I know you and I will get there one day.

In a pure snowfield, a shadow in the sky that leaves no destination.
Two small footprints chasing it.
So small that they seem to be blown away.

A traveler chasing after paradise, walking from far beyond our destination.
“Just the two of you…"
The arching back that passed us stepped into your footprints.

The end of the colorless midnight sun.
The horizon gets further away step by step.
Thoughts emerged and disappeared.
I stopped in front of the canvas that kept me confused.
I could now only hear your footsteps.

I'm losing my mind in the palm of your hand
that never lets go of my fingertips.
You’ll be the only living thing.
As you think of me sinking into the depths of the night,
entrust yourself to the true nature.

“We're here together.”

This is a story the planet does not know.
A form of life that cannot be explained.
When I respond with courage to your thoughts that fade away in the wind.
May this journey come to an end.

The form of life that defies the true nature.
That defies the voices shouting to live life to the fullest.
The true boundary line is a horizon that cannot be reached alone.
The promised place will come between just the two of them.

“If only I could melt into blue.”
Your wet eyes follow the innocent trail of singing and flying,
beyond the blue overlap of ocean and sky.
You even felt a sense of empathy for the clouds that blocked your way.

It cannot be seen with your eyes.
If there is one, it's between the two.

You, with a lonely profile,
say that they become as one,
at the edge where blue and blue overlap.

I hope one day you will realize the drawn Idea,
and that no two colors are the same.
Don't get defeated thinking you can't fly.
Your stage is just not ready.
Don't even think about doing it the same way.
Even though your wings can't fly right now.
Let me put my white on your white.

“The more beautiful the world is, the more worthless I feel.”
You are cradling a wilting feather in your arms.
Even if they say bad things about you, just let it go.

If you catch your wind someday,
you'll have to teach me how to fly it.

It cannot be seen with your eyes.
If there is one, it's between the two.

Let’s fly to the Idea drawn at the farthest end.
Let's fly somewhere in between.

The wings across the ocean.
Unless we become as one.
Tomorrow is your day.