Under the tranquil neon lights, searching for the lost warmth.

In the nights of Shinjuku, the flickering neon lights fail to dispel the coldness in my heart. The bustling streets are filled with crowds, yet I feel incredibly lonely. Behind this prosperity, there seems to be a hidden sense of loneliness, making me reflect on my own existence. I wander the streets, searching for that once-felt warmth. Every corner exudes a different story, but I can never quite reach it. The skyscrapers cast shadows in the night sky, as if reminding me of the stark contrast between the city's prosperity and my solitude. Every time I pass by a lively stall, the aroma wafts through the air, but it fails to resonate with me. The laughter sounds like distant echoes, making me feel like an outsider. Even with people coming and going around me, I can never find solace for my soul. On this cold night, I begin to ponder that perhaps the journey of being lost is a form of exploration. Under the tranquil neon lights, I am searching not only for external excitement but also for inner peace. This lost warmth might be deep within my heart, waiting for me to discover it. Even in this bustling city, I will continue to search until that warmth reappears. Every instance of being lost is a chance to rediscover myself. Perhaps it is on these quiet nights that I can see my soul more clearly.