No matter how beautiful dreams we had as children. Will eventually lose its meaning.
Lost amusement park.
MR. Studio L. Erbi Youth Art Troupe.
No matter which name, which group. It's all such a group of people.
Lapin. Mizuno. Ghost ghost.
I will eventually write my own story that tells everything.
Three teenagers clung to beer cans and cried on the rooftop.
This person is me and not me.
There is a shadow of everyone in them.
Whether it's laughter or sadness. They all really exist in this world.
Everyone is their prototype.
Three people walking together, I don't know the beginning or the end.
We are just growing teenagers walking through the process. Looking back, that street, that street lamp, that faint smile.
I Want Be Back.
Scream to the doomsday starry sky.
See the past through tears again.
How stupid we were in the past, how naive we were in the past.
But at least, our past is so real.
It's as if you can reach out and touch it.
Long hallucination.