Turning pain into companionship through 人設崩壞

An NFC record that can grow with the project

Karen brings an NFC record with the 人設崩壞 cover and introduces it as her first Cantonese record in Hong Kong. A phone can open its song information; three songs were available at the time, with six planned and further material to be added as releases followed.

Piano scores provide another way to engage with the songs. A friend offered to prepare them, allowing listeners who play instruments to sing and accompany themselves.

Starting with empathy rather than an easy answer

The presenters ask how a song called 人設崩壞 can offer comfort. Karen frames it around a person damaged by experience, drawing on a dark period in her own life and placing empathy at its centre.

She recalls relationships in which she lost her sense of self and everyday choices became tightly constrained, eventually deciding to leave. The song is intended to offer understanding to people with similar feelings rather than simply display painful episodes.

An altered appearance and a shrinking sense of self

Asked how control operated, Karen discusses expectations around appearance and eating. Although her styling changed and she became slimmer, she describes a substantial cost: valuing the other person and fearing their loss developed into believing she was nothing without them.

Leaving did not immediately undo that dependence. During a period after arriving in Hong Kong, she felt unable to act and lacked motivation. Small changes on the scales caused intense distress, helping her recognise that she could not continue that way.

She began wanting to be herself and changed her arrangements. This is her account of her own experience; the interview does not establish the other person's identity.

Defending herself like a hedgehog

Hong Kong's pace and culture, together with the absence of family and familiar friends, made adjustment difficult. Karen thought becoming tougher might protect her, and became defensive, particularly about comments on her body.

She looks back with regret on anger, harsh words and the effect she believes her behaviour had on a colleague. Aggression did not make her happier; it pushed people away and cost opportunities.

She came to see that she wanted her inner voice to be heard but had expressed it in ways that created distance. The song seeks to accompany people who feel hurt, abandoned or controlled. In the conversation she describes this dark phase as lasting seven years.

A difficult conversation that stirred her resolve

Karen recalls emotional distress alongside physical discomfort, including skin problems and dizziness and nausea in lifts. On one journey back to Hong Kong from Shenzhen, a friend spoke plainly about her condition. She cried during the trip and found the words difficult to accept.

Later, resistance became a determination to rebuild and return to work she cared about. Looking back, she is grateful that the friend spoke honestly, while emphasising that change took a long time rather than being resolved by one conversation.

Being heard and the impact of 海女

Karen actively sought emotional support through a fellowship of singers. Being with people in the same field helped her feel that her work and her wish to complete a Cantonese record were understood, rather than simply being told to find a different job.

Listening mattered most. Hearing Adason Lo's 海女 brought an intense emotional release because she felt someone had finally heard her inner world, giving accumulated resentment and sadness an outlet.

She sees this as a turning point within a gradual recovery. The presenters acknowledge the long journey of low periods and rebuilding; the conversation does not present a song as an instant solution.

Sharing the past while fearing rejection

Karen admits that exposing a dark part of her history still brings fear of rejection. The presenters suggest that openness can help people who care about her understand her better, and create space for listeners to share their own experiences.

Asked whether revisiting the past risks pulling her back into it, she says she can now speak with a smile rather than becoming immediately defensive. She also says she has reconciled with the person concerned, leaving the details for a later song rather than explaining them here.

She describes a sequence within the Cantonese project: Don't Wanna Move concerns rebellion and leaving; 人設崩壞 enters the darkness that follows when leaving does not immediately bring happiness. Later releases would continue the story.

Bringing the day's emotions into writing with JNYBeatz

Karen says she began the project happily, but on the day of writing 人設崩壞, a separate relationship friction had upset her. At a car park someone knocked on her window and told her she was in the wrong space; startled, she cried alone after the person left.

She composed after settling herself, with JNYBeatz encouraging her to put that unhappiness into the music. Listening again at home, she felt its resentment and weight fitted the subject, and continued in that direction before asking Lam Bo for lyrics.

Lam Bo had already encountered that side of her

When Karen describes the darkness she wants to explore, Lam Bo says he has already seen it. She recalls giving him forceful, character-driven uptempo songs during her time working with Chiu Tsang Hei, and discussing her outlook by phone.

He had not commented directly at the time, but now says those impressions remain vivid. Karen finds the new lyrics close to her feelings and experiences another form of being understood through music, like resuming a conversation with an old friend.

A lighter recording that speaks from beyond the low point

Karen says she did not break down crying in the studio. She closed her eyes and recalled sleepless nights, waking in tears and feeling unable to function, bringing those images into a first recording that felt very heavy.

After listening at home, she wanted a lighter approach. The message should come from someone sharing a period she has lived through, rather than sounding as though she remains trapped in it, so she returned to adjust the voice and intensity.

That choice returns to the aim of companionship: retaining honest emotion while letting listeners hear that she can now look back from a different place and move forward with them.