~6th story~ A short story of mine – then again, a reflection of my state of mind
by: Isshi / translated by ramsk
Fifty years from now, I’ll also be an old man. Oh, but we don’t know yet, right? Perhaps, it still won’t be like in the world of Galaxy Express 999, where you go like ‘Give me a mechanized body!’ Anyway you put it…I myself, machine or not, will be rather weird*.
By no means, more important than that is…what will I be doing in order to win my bread?
At the moment, I’m singing, dancing and writing articles, but, fifty years from now it’s obvious that I won’t be doing the same things. The late artist Tarô Okamoto said once: “Art is explosion!”, but actually you explode before getting to accomplish art; that’s also true…
All in all, there are too many things that I have to do, and, well, while I’m thinking about where to start from, I end up reaching out to the knob of the beer can.
Right. Because I need a short break, I’m seeing myself playing with my children, but it’s not like I could skip such a time in my life… Ah, where’s my dignity as a father? I ask myself in discouragement, but, that’s it! A walk! I should go for a walk! But even when I try to step out, the sunlight is hurting me… I don’t like sunlight… I was saying that in some interview too, and it’s true, because first of all my eyes hurt. Then my skin hurts. And to make matters worse, I have a headache. Under the circumstances, I give up going for a walk.
In the end, confined in my room, I’ll be reading a book or something, so absolutely nothing is changed.
Wrong! What was it now?... Right, fifty years from now!
…In any case, I’m full of anxiety. The development of computer technology in nowadays’ society has striking things about it, and, if even now you can download almost anything, so that CD’s won’t sell anymore, then in fifty years there won’t even be such things as CD’s anymore; moreover, because computers will make songs for us by themselves, won’t we come to a world in which there won’t be a need for musicians? When I try looking at the display of my Mac, it pops out - “The newest technology! It’s come even to this! Artificial intelligence!” and if it’s possible to “raise children without parents”, then we’ll be “publishing books without writers”- (the association may be a bit far-fetched here…)
If such things will come to be… Oh, I’m haunted by such needless worries, that this time my stomach is aching. (Ha-ha, my whole body is letting me down.)
I couldn't say such things as “If everything’s ok now, then it’s perfect!” just like an old fashioned rocker. To say something like that full of self confidence is really unreasonable. (“unreasonable” to be read “ecstasy”!)
But then again, I really don’t think that I’m absolutely not rocker-like. Right.
A few days ago an older colleague of mine had a discussion about rock with someone and, being nearby, I heard his words. ‘Rock is not about living while doing as you please, it’s about enforcing your own lifestyle; for this reason, more important than sacrificing people and things around you in order for you to be at your best is to keep protecting the things that you have to protect. That is what rock is all about!’ he declared and added: ‘My father is a simple salary man but he brought up our family and raised me until now. A person like my father is a hundred times closer to “rock” than the fellows rocking around all day.’
It can’t be… I’ll probably never forget those words. For a moment my colleague looked like a god.
I also hold this way of thinking and, often, when watching movies about heroes, I think ‘But but but…I… I have nothing to protect.... And there aren’t any dangerous things around anyway…’ I enrage myself thinking like that, and then go: Where do you think this is anyway? Isn’t it Japan? Isn’t it a constitutional state? We are all being protected by something somewhere, because if it weren’t so, we would have been all dead long ago. Anyway, that’s what I always thought society is about… (the fact that I was taught in a northern region should be blamed for this)
That’s why this pain in my stomach must be the pain of the weight of the things that I have to protect now; while thinking about this, I take a pill for my stomach ache and try to do my best. I don’t particularly wish for things like world peace, nor think outrageous things like “I…will save…this world!” (said in tone just like when you make a marriage proposal for the 101st time).
Somehow or the other, while taking care precisely of the things I love, of the people I love, of the important things that are close to me, and while doing what I enjoy, in fifty years I want to become a good natured seventy years old man. That’s why, if there won’t be any CD’s anymore or if the writer profession disappears, I’ll be in trouble. Because, first of all, what am I supposed to do?…When I’m now in the situation that the band members, the manager, and all my colleagues complain altogether, telling me: “Write those stories faster!”
I’m writing, I’m writing. Like this, right? Well, speaking of a story told in first person, when you, the readers, get to see how many “…” appear in this text, I think you’ll be able to guess my state of mind.
Fifty years from now… various things will be eroded by various countries, but I’m here right now, praying ardently for only one thing:
‘Please leave behind at least the cherry trees…’
