For example, the wind has its reasons. We just don't notice as we go about our lives. But then, at some point, we are made to notice. The wind envelops you with a certain purpose in mind, and it rocks you. The wind knows everything that's inside you. And not just the wind. Everything, including a stone. They all know us very well. From top to bottom. It only occurs to us at certain times. And all we can do is go with those things. As we take them in, we survive, and deepen.

I may be the type who manages to grab all the pointless things in life but lets the really important things slip away.

I'll write to you. A super-long letter, like in an old-fashioned novel

I have this strange feeling that I'm not myself anymore. It's hard to put into words, but I guess it's like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.

I have no models in Japanese literature. I created my own style, my own way.

I move, therefore I am.

Not just beautiful, though--the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me.