breakfast

A warm, almost morning track, where instead of morals there are simple things: hot rice, sunlight, the familiar “ittekimas” and even the smells of the past, which suddenly come flooding back like an old blanket. The words sound like an admission that being slightly cracked, ridiculous, and imperfect is normal. There is no place for pathos here: it is better to have a cooling breakfast and an honest attempt to live through today than to constantly chase after the right words.

The music breaks down everyday gestures - greetings, farewells, hugs - into small miracles. And the miracle is not in someone else, but in the fact that, strange as it may seem, even the most ordinary day can grow into a small, warm world that belongs only to you.