I have chosen such a tranquil night to let it fill the room. The sparse sound of rain spreads outside the window, their uneven and vague steps making the room I am in feel like a leaf deep in the mountains, unfolding in a gentle breeze. I have chosen this kind of illusion to let it fill the room. As if listening to the profound narrative of a hermit that contains certain truths about life, once again with the anticipation of receiving baptism, I place the record on the player and dim the lights inside the room — within this thin record lies a soul, a soul of a tribe singing, they come from a peace far away from the clamor. Although they were born...