SWITCH (from Kenshi Yonezu's diary)
I'm releasing a new single [Unbelievers] in September. I say this basically every time, but they're really good songs. All three of them. It's simply the nature of coupling songs, but I always feel bad about putting songs in a place where they'll reach fewer people's ears. I feel like making songs with the premise of "Well, they're coupling songs" only results in something flat, so I don't think about that at all while making them.
I finish work, I get home, I throw the wallet and keys and smartphone and all that's stuffed in my pocket on the desk, I open up the fridge, and there's only water. I've felt that there's a symmetry between the room and the mind, but maybe "between the fridge and the mind" sticks better. Things I need, things I don't need, things also for someone else, someone else's things. A fridge with only bare essentials to live is no doubt boring, but it basically coincides with you living a boring life. Perhaps it'll get full once I have a bite of some cooking or something. I also feel like I'm getting tired of the ingredients I bought before it's been even 3 days and just leaving them to rot.
I've started to feel that it's not something I should really hide, so I'm writing it: I've had some bouts of depression, and to be frank have had a pretty awful life during those periods. Yet sometimes I recall my feelings at the time. The flow of time seeming to get deathly fast, waking up in a climate where short sleeves are unbearable, taking about an hour from getting the determination to go to the local supermarket to getting back, sleeping nearly 20 hours a day.
I've been never-tiring of thinking about "What in the world is life, anyway?", and an image that often comes to mind is lightbulbs being inserted into a limitless number of sockets connected in a series circuit. After doing the routine work of inserting things that could easily break into set positions, you flip the first switch to make it either shine or go out. If the present is a consequence of the collective past, then my self that's here now is a switch, flipped based on whether I affirm or deny the past. As days where everything I see seems to have meaning and days where I feel I'm only wasting time repeat, I insert lightbulbs as diligently as a tractor.
Long ago, there were numerous occasions where I'd have a passionate fit of rage over something, or feel uncertain about the inability to see what lies ahead, but I've become able to see ahead that much more clearly. Thinking I won't necessarily be alive tomorrow, and how if I have fun, that's a victory, muttering complaints about whether this has any purpose, I'm continuing to insert lightbulbs today.