'In the past, if I remember correctly, my life was a feast, where all the hearts were opened and all the wine overflowed' - Rimbaud
I have a feeling that autumn may make him fade. The things I cherish this summer are not only him as a person, but also all the still life and temperature around us; the music composed of cicadas, noise, laughter, and silence; the right time, the right state of mind, all of which combined to make me extremely obsessed with him, has become a thing of the past, and it is impossible to do it again. None of us will be more perfect than we are this summer, and I can't afford to look forward to next summer because that would be a disaster for me.
Concept: Youth is a feast