My take on whether ghosts exist has gone through several phases… In elementary school, when I heard there might be ghosts in the world, I was terrified. I couldn’t even sleep after watching those cheap Hong Kong and Taiwan horror flicks, and local ghost stories were enough to make me afraid of the dark. Then I saw some behind-the-scenes footage of those Hong Kong/Taiwan horror movies, and I started spreading ghost stories myself, and after that I was never scared again. Humans only fear the unknown and things they can’t control. That’s how I understand it. As for ghosts, humans can’t catch them, but they can’t deny them either. Some even go so far as to say ghosts have magic, supernatural powers, that they can control people and command wind and rain, which makes everyone even more anxious. Later I developed a new understanding of whether ghosts exist or not: if people become ghosts after death and can run rampant in this world… then wouldn’t the world be full of ghosts by now! Humans would’ve been wiped out by ghosts ages ago, right? So after Hatsuyuki Sakura, I played another game about ghosts: Kimi e Okuru, Sora no Hana is Cabbit’s second work — yeah, yeah, the same one as Midori no Umi last time. This time they dropped the artist whose art gave off a strong nukige vibe and had Yukie, the character designer for Chisa, who claims to be female, handle the art solo. From the outside it looks like a thoroughly heartwarming work. So is the story actually heartwarming? Trust me — if it’s not, you can come and fuck me up!

The world is dark. But that’s not enough of a reason to deny that light exists. I know this one guy. Met him online, same as usual. From the moment I met him I thought he was mediocre. Mediocre in the sense that, sure, you can chat with him, but nothing about him stands out. No rebellious streak, never picks a fight, always smiling, doesn’t seem to have much of an opinion of his own. Not that he’s clueless — he knows plenty — but nothing he knows counts as expertise. Sometimes I figured this guy’s life had zero passion in it. But he always seemed happy. I asked him once if there was anything he wanted to do. He said he wanted to be a programmer someday. “Like, writing insane software?” He shook his head. “That’d be great if it happens, but just writing stuff that solves people’s problems is fine too.” He paused. “I like writing code. Same way most kids like building with blocks.” So I stopped keeping in touch. Mostly because talking to him was boring — he’d listen to anything you said, then go right back to living his ordinary life, never once wanting to shake things up. Sometimes I think the big shots, the experts, they’re all obsessive, fanatical, one-track-minded. And guys like him? Throw them into a crowd and you’ll never find them again. Then the years went by. Through the internet I watched countless big names pivot and maneuver, watched plenty of experts trace their winding life curves. They ran around chasing all sorts of things, gained some, lost some. And that’s when I realized: the guy with no passion had somehow become the happiest person of all.