GARBAGE GARDEN
Q: What inspired you to explore the idea of living a life that feels “pre-furnished” in busy. being. Real.?
A: From the moment we are born, society hands us a “pre-packaged” life — standardized happiness and efficient paths already set up. But when everything is perfectly pre-furnished by the system, there’s no room left for the real self. I wanted to capture that strange trapped feeling inside all this convenience.
Q: When writing the lyrics, were you reflecting more on personal experiences or on a broader social observation?
A: My partner belongs to Japan’s “Lost Generation,” so I had many chances to see their lives up close. But that feeling isn’t limited to Japan. From my mid-20s to late 30s, I lived in several countries — especially a Working Holiday in Australia, and meaningful stays in New Zealand and Germany. I realized the sense of loss and alienation among young people felt very similar across cultures. In the end, this song became my personal record of a global shadow in our time.
Q: The song presents efficiency almost like a belief system. What made you want to approach it in that way?
A: In modern society, efficiency is no longer just an economic tool — it has become a kind of religion. We are expected to be productive 24/7, and every action needs an “invoice” to prove its worth. Those who can’t follow it are treated as sinners or failures. I wanted to show how this religion of efficiency slowly kills the human soul, and how being kicked out of it can actually become a form of salvation.
Q: How do you personally define the kind of “Real” the song points toward?
A: “Real” is found exactly where the system calls you a “defective product” because you don’t fit its rules. It is the personal sadness and disappointment that the system cannot filter out. To me, being Real means refusing to be measured by the world and filling your own void with your own truth.
Q: There’s a strong feeling of being trapped in a system at the beginning. What emotions were you trying to capture in that part?
A: A feeling of claustrophobia. I wanted to show the helplessness of moving on a fixed track, like a part on a conveyor belt, no matter what you actually want. That’s why the beginning sound is mechanical and cold.
Q: The shift in the song feels gradual rather than explosive. Why was it important for you to show change in that way?
A: Because waking up doesn’t happen like a lightning bolt. Escaping the system’s gravity is a slow and painful learning process. I wanted to express the feeling of slowly floating away while deleting the old gravity, one by one. So I built the sound textures gradually.
Q: One of the key ideas is that the individual is not lost, but rather the system loses them. How did that concept come to you?
A: I became sure of this while watching the Japanese government. They ignored the “Lost Generation” for a long time, but now they are desperately trying to “find” them again because they need workers. The people were never lost. The system just decided they were worthless and erased them. The line “I am not lost, they lost me” is the core of this song — it was the very first line I wrote.
Q: The imagery of learning to walk without gravity is very striking. What does that symbolize for you personally?
A: When Japan’s bubble collapsed, the ground that the Lost Generation trusted suddenly disappeared. It felt like losing gravity. I saw something similar during the IMF crisis in Korea. For me, “learning to walk without gravity” means standing on your own when social expectations vanish. It’s shaky and scary at first, but when you ignore that old gravity, your own new physics begins. Isolation turns into freedom.
Q: Why did you choose the image of building a garden in the void to express inner peace?
A: Because the place the world calls “garbage” or “void” was the only sanctuary where social pressure couldn’t reach me. Planting my own tastes and truths in that empty space is both the start and the purpose of the Garbage Garden project.
Q: Do you think people today are more aware of these “systems,” or still deeply inside them?
A: People know about them, but they are getting more trapped. The systems are now inside us through smartphone apps and subscriptions. Even the dream of “escape” is sold back to us by the system.
Q: The lyrics suggest that systems can collapse again in the future. Do you see this as a warning or a natural cycle?
A: A natural cycle. Any mechanical system that tries to be perfect will eventually break from its own fatigue. I’m not giving a warning. I just believe that when the system collapses, only the people who already learned how to walk without gravity will be able to smile in the chaos.
Q: How important is self-awareness in maintaining that sense of freedom you describe in the song?
A: It is everything. If you don’t keep asking yourself whether you are a machine part or a human being, you will fall back into the old gravity quickly. Staying uncomfortable is the first step to freedom.
Q: The contrast between control and liberation feels very central. Is that a recurring theme in your work?
A: Yes. I always search for truth through contrast — despair behind bright sounds, or warm blood inside cold machine tones. Showing the controlled system makes the energy of freedom feel more real.
Q: Do you think stepping away from expectations always leads to a better life, or can it be risky?
A: It is definitely risky. You are kicking away the safety net. But if the “safe life” offered by the system is actually a slow death, then choosing to be truly alive feels more valuable to me, even if it’s risky.
Q: The structure of the lyrics is simple but carries a lot of weight. How do you approach keeping things clear yet deep?
A: I use images and voids instead of direct explanations. When listeners can put their own stories into the spaces between the lines, even simple sentences become heavy. I don’t give answers — I just polish a mirror.
Q: The use of lowercase throughout, except for “Real,” is very intentional. When did that idea come into place?
A: This idea was already there in the very first draft. I wanted to make all the things the world considers important — systems, titles, grand ideas — look small with lowercase. Only the Real self deserves a capital letter. That’s why only the R in “Real” is uppercase.
Q: The song feels very personal but also universal. Were you aiming for that balance from the start?
A: I believe what is most personal is most universal. The private feelings I had while watching my partner’s life can connect with the tiredness that many people feel today.
Q: Looking back at busy. being. Real., what part of the lyrics feels the most meaningful to you now?
A: The last phrase: “busy. being. Real.” Not the busyness forced by the world, but being busy just to exist as myself. That quiet peace is what keeps me continuing this project.
