I wrote this song after my last depressive episode
At the time, I was confused by how everything simply began to fade away: my sensations, my perception of the world, my emotions. Nothing felt as it usually did. It was as if everything had become unreal, or unreachable. I could not really describe what I felt. It was not sadness, not fury, not joy. It was just nothing.
Every detail in this song came from lived experience: the radio static, the lone whale, the wounded creature in the arena, the feeling of being cast out from my own house because the parts of myself I needed were no longer accessible. The desperate screaming — asking how many rounds I had already survived, and how many more were still waiting — came from the question I ask myself every time a new episode begins: how can I survive this again? The wind at the end is also real to me. I have always felt its touch as a kind of love from life itself. It brings me back to a place where my existence feels as real as the sensation on my skin.
The voice in this song is strong, almost stubborn, as if it is singing from the root of its soul. I wanted that contrast: a powerful, weathered voice confronting depression, an illness that can become so overwhelming it almost covers the existence of the person inside it.
Because of bipolar disorder, even with long-term medication, I still move through episodes of hypomania and depression. Medication softens the peaks and valleys, but it does not erase the storm completely. I have lost count of how many times depression has returned.
Each time, I think I should know how to survive it better.
Each time, I still end up surrendering to it, trying only to stay alive until it passes.
This song is about depression, dissociation, and alexithymia. I did not want it to sound soft. I wanted it to feel heavy, violent, and overwhelming — like an illness that can sweep away health, happiness, language, and the sense of being safely inside your own body.
Created with Suno.
English translation/subtitles by me, refined to carry the feeling of the original Chinese lyrics rather than translate them word for word.
Still, my soul won't cling to skin
The radio crackles in grey-white static
like the channel between my soul and skin
where I keep losing signal
A lone whale howls in low frequency
a sound even itself cannot decode
left unheard, left unknown
Still, my soul won’t cling to skin
Cast out, nowhere to land
Exiled by itself
Language sucked into vacuum
Eyes out of focus
Nowhere left to go
Still, my soul won’t cling to skin
Cast out, nowhere to land
Exiled by itself
Language sucked into vacuum
Eyes out of focus
Nowhere left to go
Blood blooms across the arena
no strength left for battle
only my breath echoes back
When night raids what’s left
only closed eyes
can make it feel normal
Still, my soul won’t cling to skin
even my tears have no address to send to
Still, my soul won’t cling to skin
tears cannot carry the pain back
so it gets lost halfway
When will I land somewhere safe again
I only return to dance with the storm.
Still, my soul won’t cling to skin
even my tears have no address to send to
tears cannot carry the pain back
so it gets lost halfway
Beside myself, I ask again
how many times has this war returned?
How many more times?
How many more times?
Still, my soul won’t cling to skin
tears cannot carry the pain back
so it gets lost halfway
When will I land somewhere safe again
I only return to dance with the storm.
Still, my soul won’t cling to skin
Language sucked into vacuum
Eyes out of focus
Nowhere left to go
The wind shows mercy
to my skin, still warm
