The Confessions of Shinagawa Monkey
Thisisastoryofstolennames,forgotten，identities,andthe
names,forgotten，identities,andthelonelinessofabeingthatnevertrulybelonged.
In the quiet alleys ordinary monkey, for with human names
alleys of Shinagawa, there lives a monkey. He is not an for he carries with him a secret—a peculiar obsession names
？？？ ？？？ ？？？ ？？？ ？？？ ？？？ ？？？
The name slips away, leaving behind a hollow echo. The monkey holds it gently, as if cradling a fragile treasure
For those who lost their names, the world becomes a blur. For the monkey, the names fill a void—but only briefly.
Yet, the more names I take, the emptier I feel. They are not truly mine—they are ghosts that haunt me.
