While drinking in Shinjuku, I was wondering. What's the point of exams, really? The Sophia University entrance exam is just around the corner, but my mind is somewhat floating, and I have no sense of reality. Even though I think exams are a farce, there is a part of me that just can't escape the framework of them. The hustle and bustle of the city stirs up my mind.

While drinking in Shinjuku, I was wondering. What's the point of exams, really? The Sophia University entrance exam is just around the corner, but my mind is somewhat floating, and I have no sense of reality. Even though I think exams are a farce, there is a part of me that just can't escape the framework of them. The hustle and bustle of the city stirs up my mind.

Afterwards, I wandered over to a bookstore and picked up a copy of the exam-oriented issue of the "Horurai Jidai. How ridiculous, I thought, but my eyes were glued to the article in front of me. I read the feature article, "Last-Minute 10-Day Strategies," and I had a faint hope that maybe it was not too late to take the exam. No, what am I hoping for?

The windows of the buildings in Shinjuku look like countless small frames. Is this my future or just an illusion? The bright neon lights of the city intersect with the chaos in my head. As the intoxication of the alcohol sets in, I suddenly wonder how I will feel on the day of the exam.

Sophia University - the name alone is intimidating, but perhaps it is the power of the name that moves me. Why does Shinjuku reflect my mind so well? It is bright yet lonely, lively yet somehow cold. Perhaps I myself am full of contradictions in the same way.