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Autobiography
SECTION 3: [A RAPID CURRENT]
[Chapter 1] The Truth About My Departure From Malice Mizer
[Chapter 2] Losing Kami
[Chapter 3] Pledging a New Beginning at the Okinawa Training Camp
[Chapter 4] The Last Revolving Lantern
[Chapter 5] Duel in Madagascar
[Chapter 6] The Birth of My Family
Section 3, Chapter 1
Malice Mizer Dattai no Shinsou
[The Truth About My Departure From Malice Mizer]
When I talk about Malice Mizer, even now in my heart there are complicated
feelings. Since I went solo, a part of me has hoped that one day I would be
able to talk with you about Malice Mizer again.
I wanted to become a better person [lit: achieve a higher level] than who
I used to be before telling the story of Malice Mizer, so while going solo,
I was desperately working to get up to that level.
Malice Mizer is still something that I take pride in, and I wouldn't change
a thing. As a band, I was proud of the many and varied things we came to represent,
and the members were each extraordinary individuals.
Each of the members was not just one in five of a five part group called
Malice Mizer. The strength of the power that was gathered there in five people
by one driven individual brought forth the power known as Malice Mizer. Because
of that, we each acquired the ability to go solo. From the time I joined back
then, I continued to tell the members that. If we could do that, Malice Mizer
could conquer Asia! That was that image I had for the band.
I joined in the fall of '95, and Malice Mizer, which was experiencing conditions
that had it on the brink of breaking up, began their revival tour. It was
almost two years till our major debut. We even realized our dream of playing
at the Budoukan.
Malice Mizer was able to do it. We were able to conquer Asia. I thought that
there was nothing that could go wrong with my dream. Howevercthere was obviously
a point from where our gears started going out of order.
At that time, it was around the end of the "visual kei" boom period.
Though there were many bands who did not want to say that they were visual,
I said clearly, "We are visual kei." There was no resistance at
all to me saying that.
In all honesty, I really didn't care what people said. If I have my own beliefs
about things, then if other people want to criticize me, whatever they do
is fine with me.
If I think about it now, the cause of Malice Mizer's breakup was my own individualism
and self-confidence, and the widening difference between things that the other
members were concerned about .
The first time our relations became strange was when the performance at the
Yokohama Arena was drawing near (July '98). The final straw was when I wrote
the music to "Le Ciel." Until then, I was going to be the lyrics
writer and either Mana or Kozi was going to write the music. "Le Ciel"
was the first time I became a member that handled both the music and the lyrics.
Among the members, I was the only one who kept doing more of these kinds of
tasks, and I completely isolated myself.
When I was honest with myself, I was shocked. Within the members of the band,
with it being me versus the other four members, we parted ways cordially.
There was no mediator, and no one followed up on me.
Though I said, "shouldn't I have done what I did with 'Le Ciel?'"
a short time later, I really wanted to go back to the band. But in the end,
that didn't happen.
But above everything was the problem of money. Money is a dreadful thing.
I learned all about this when I was working as a host [note: from earlier
chapters; Gackt worked as a host and dealer in a casino]. Suddenly, if you
gain a whole lot of it, you'll pass into the phase of not caring about the
value of anything.
For example, there are people who have a lifestyle of 150,000 yen a month.
Lunch is 500 yen, dinner is 1000 yen, and occasionally they'll spend 3,000
on some splurge. But then, one night when they wake up, it suddenly doubles
by a hundred and they end up making an income of 15,000,000 yen a monthcwhat
happens then?
The value of everything is about 1/100th now. The 500 yen daily meal special
feels like 5 yen. If that's the case, then spending 3000 yen every day on
dinner is all right, isn't it? That's how people think. However, the 3000
yen that you feel like you're spending at that time is really 300,000 yen.
Whenever you suddenly acquire lots of money, that feeling is always near.
From the price on the price tag, you feel like just removing two zeros from
it. If a 28,000 yen shirt seems like it's 280 yen, then spending money is
normal.
When I was in Kyoto, my sense of finance went a little crazy, and I developed
a habit of buying everything. I was in the mindset of "it's ok, it's
ok, I've got money." However, as this happens, your circle of friends
changes. Your friends up till now pull away completely, and the people left
behind are those whose only purpose in life is money.
If you earn money, a feeling of "won't some misfortune happen to me?"
will spring up. However, that's not the case. Not being able to let go of
the mindset of earning money is what makes you an unhappy person. Money wakes
a strange sense, like a gush of hot water, and those who don't have it don't
think about it at all.
After I went to Tokyo, I quit being a host and a dealer. Naturally, I quickly
ran out of money. "Are?" I said. I was completely broke. At that
time, I couldn't believe it. When I saw what was left of my bank deposit,
it was such a strange feeling that I thought, "I've got to have been
robbed by someone!" I didn't stop thinking about 30,000 yen shirts as
300 yen, but those 300 yen I wasn't even earningc
As a little time goes by, you return with bitterness and regret to the source
of that feeling. And then, you begin to reflect and say "what a stupid
idiot I was!"
Money makes people crazy. In truth, I was just driven crazy by my own selfishness.
From everything in this lesson, when Malice Mizer went major, even though
we were making lots of money, my heart wasn't shaken. But that wasn't true
for everyone.
When you make a lot of money, some people drift away, some people grow closer.
When that happens, rumors get whispered around and people change. In the band,
when we started making more money, I told the other members about the mistakes
I had made in the past. I said, "Money will definitely make you do strange
things. So please, wake up!"
But it seemed like they didn't understand my true intentions. If they didn't
experience it once personally, then they probably wouldn't know what I am
talking about. I believed that one day they'd realize this.
Then one day in 1998, around when the summer heat was beginning to cool [lit:
when we were beginning to leave behind the summer heat], they called a members'
meeting. Though usually at the meetings, only members attended, that day,
when the appointed time came, all of the other members and the president of
the office were all there and waiting for me.
"Why is the president at a members' meeting?" I asked. And someone
answered, "because Malice Mizer is over."
Huh?
And right after I thought that, they said it.
"We can't work anymore with you."
In that instant, I didn't really feel anything much. So, I said that I would
like Malice Mizer to continue even if I did quit. But the band's answer was,
at any rate, just that they were unable to do that.
All right, everyone, I will say no more. I won't be obnoxious.
In this case, I couldn't say that. If this was the end, there was also a
way to erase that. No matter what would happen at the end, could I shut the
curtain in the face of the fans that have helped me along until now? That
was the most important thing.
As I was saying these things, someone else started saying nasty things.
"Isn't it good enough that we put out a CD? We're selling copies, at
least..."
At those words, I got angry.
"Don't joke around! Don't make fun of the fans!"
In my anger, I got up from my seat and left. The sadness that I felt even
more than the anger was accounting for most of what I did. I was miserable.
That is the truth about my departure from Malice Mizer.
This is not a story for me to cast blame. It was a problem of suddenly having
too much money. Of the band members' differences of conciousness. Of a driving
obsession. Malice Mizer = what I once was = an anxiety that made me what I
wasn't. There were things that weighed heavily on us, and they became a vicious
circle and ended up hurting everyone.
There was no other way, back thencthat is the only thing I can believe.
Section 3, Chapter 2
Kami o Ushinatte
[Losing Kami]
was right before the beginning of summer. In the middle of a photoshoot,
I suddenly felt something terrible. I was dizzy and I couldn't stand up. I
thought it was something to do with my intuition. If something had happened
to a loved one...
I called all of my friends and relatives. Everyone said nothing was wrong.
Nothing was going on. But the weird sad feeling wouldn't go away.
When my friends and family left and I was alone again, a phenomenon occurred.
I became really worried that someone had died. But who, I didn't know. It
just was very painful. It hurt to breathe and my breathing became very irregular,
to the point where I just couldn't do any of my daily activities.
I knew it was some kind of foreboding. After that, I called the members of
Malice Mizer that I still talked to. "Is anything wrong with any of the
members?" I asked frantically, confronting them, but they all said "I
saw them today and they seemed to be fine."
But even then my fears didn't go away. I went to see some other people who
were close to the Malice Mizer members. Though it was the middle of the night,
I told myself that soon I was going to confirm if anything was going on with
any of the members. But in the end, that confirmation didn't happen.
One week afterwards, the official announcement of Kami's death was made.
"June 21, 1999. Kami, the drummer of Malice Mizer, passed away of a
subarachnoid hemorrhage."
Though I knew of this later, from the moment immediately following Kami's
death, I already had a bad feeling.
In the end, I heard about Kami's death through the grapevine. The funeral
was already over when the news got to me.
It was exactly in the middle of recording, and I locked myself away inside
the studio. I couldn't keep my mind on anything. But I had to keep busy. I
told myself that. If I didn't do anything, everything would become strange...
Too many regrets remain.
Why didn't I call Kami directly? All during the time when I was worried,
why didn't I try to talk directly to Kami?
I still have not completely grown up. In becoming an adult, I've showed my
feelings openly and gotten knocked around a little, and so I've wondered if
I can ever be close to others people. Children don't think twice about hurting
others. Because of this, their relationships are short-lived. But when the
tempestuous feelings of adults pass, they look at the situation calmly, comparing
things objectively, and then decide on the friendship.
At that time, I couldn't do that. We never found a good interpretation of
the circumstances and confronted each other. Basically, I was hesitant to
confront him.
Even before that, how many times have I had a bad premonition? And each time,
though Kami and I were connected through other people, in the end, I still
didn't call Kami directly. Now I wonder if we couldn't call each other because
both of us were childishly obstinate and hesitant.
However, if I had called him back then...
Maybe I still couldn't have done anything. Maybe it's presumptuous of me
to think I could have. It doesn't really matter now.
If, back then, we could have talked directly...
The first time I went to Kami's parents' house was the following year on his
birthday, February 1st. I thought, "I want to see Kami again. I want
to go to his grave." I wasn't able to go to his funeral. I wanted to
clap my hands [note: I think this refers to Japanese funeral rituals], and
anyway, I wanted to see him.
I knew what town his parents lived in, but I didn't know exactly where his
house was. So I drove around and asked about the general vicinity of the neighborhood
that they were in. After a while, though people would say "It's close
by," it was a fairly large, rustic city, so I went to random houses and
rang doorbells, asking things like:
"I'm looking for someone. Do you know these people? I heard that they
live around here in this neighborhood..."
I left Tokyo in the morning and arrived in Ibaraki Prefecture around noon,
and spent the rest of the day searching. Finally, I got directions to the
place and managed to find my way to the house around 7 PM that evening.
I was asking myself, "When they open the door, will they recognize me?"
Kami's parents have gone to a lot of lives, so they recognized me immediately.
"Come in, we're glad you came," they said, and they invited me
inside. With this kindness, I started crying and couldn't stop.
Everyone in the house was sitting down to dinner, and as they shared food
from the dishes, his parents told me lots of stories. I heard various stories
of when Kami was a child. Afterwards, they said to me:
"Though we still cannot forget him, you've given us proof that he lived,
and that has given us the will to continue on."
When I heard that, I felt liberated. The thing that has allowed me to continue
on is proof that Kami lived.
After that every year, on Kami's birthday and death anniversary, I go to
visit his parents. Since they said "Come over any time," I might
abuse the privilege a little.
Though I think it would be good for me to go visit his grave a little more,
in the end, I manage only to go on his birthday and his death anniversary
every year.
However, with all that has happened, his mother and father welcomed me, and
now I truly feel like they're my parents too. His parents also feel like I'm
one of their children. I think it's like they see Kami in me.
That first year, there were a lot of people going to see his grave, both
on his death anniversary and his birthday. It's been four years now, and little
by little, people have stopped going...
If you go, don't go because it's the trendy thing to do. If you go see his
grave, don't do it because you want him to come back to life.
But...
To me, thinking that people will be able to forget him, that is... so painful.
To this day, I have never stopped chasing after the dream that Kami left
unfinished. That is proof that Kami existed on this earth, proof that he lived.
Even now, Kami is alive inside of me...
Section 3, Chapter 3
Saishuupatsu o Chikatta Okinawa Gasshuku
[Pledging a New Beginning at the Okinawa Training Camp]
The summer of the year I went solo, I went with all the members of my band
to Okinawa. Because I wasn't very healthy, we stayed at a training camp in
Okinawa for a long four and a half months to heal my body and my heart.
It was a physical training type boarding camp. In a place where there wasn't
much of anything, we would wake up at 8 or 9 in the morning, go running till
we got to the beach, train, and then go back.
Then we would write songs, and once it became evening, we'd go running again,
eat dinner, take a break and talk, and then write songs till morning. We did
this day after day every day.
The owner of one of the small restaurants we frequented always would smile
at us and tell us "Ganbatteru ka~!" To me, he would say "Practice
hard!"
For some reason, he seemed to think that we were part of a karate team from
Tokyo.
When we trained, we didn't just go running, but we also punched sandbags,
and with protective equipment, we practiced hand-to-hand combat. All my band
members learned the basics of martial arts. Because of this, their fists were
always extremely tired.
Seeing this was why the restaurant owner thought we were members of a karate
team.
All of the band members are tall. My three bodyguards that I brought along
were all 185 to 190 centimeters tall. Compared to them, at my 180 centimeters,
I was shorter and slimmer.
Because of this, the owner thought I was a stand-in member on the team.
"Ganbare, karate team! I hope you soon become a regular member!"
Whenever he said this to me, I always remembered to keep calm.
One of my objectives in going to Okinawa was to write my album, but also
the band members and I wanted to make ourselves stronger and tougher.
The first half of the year that I went solo was definitely not a smooth road.
I had been under so much overwork and stress that I had been suffering from
insomnia. The other members were also exhausted from stress.
So when the members, including me, felt it was time to heal ourselves, my
relatives in Okinawa cooperated with us.
Until then, I hadn't been back to Okinawa in ten years. A part of me inside
had always been keeping Okinawa at a distance.
There was a part of me that denied my heritage, but there is also a part
of me that wanted to protect that heritage too. I was proud to be an Okinawan
and of the Ryukyu race. On the other hand, a part of me was ashamed of that.
I have a lot of respect for my great-grandfather. Of course, I've never met
him, but people have told me that he revitalized the town and that he was
the founding father of my family. Ancestor worship still goes on in Okinawa,
and to my family, my great-grandfather is like our "god."
Though everyone in my family looks different, one thing they all say is that
I look exactly like my great-grandfather. They say that all the spiritual
phenomenon that happens to me also happened often to my great-grandfather.
There is a word "kamidari" in the Okinawan language. In Okinawa,
the ones who call up spirits and hear the words of the gods are mainly women
and are called "shiro," "noro," or "yuta." It
is very rare for a man to be born with these abilities.
My grandfather was one of those men who often experienced these "kamidari"
abilities. So he would be able to see things before they happened.
This was told to me when I was a child, and though I respected my great-grandfather,
originally I didn't like the thought of gods and ghosts.
There were times when I would forcefully do things out of my own pride. In
times like those, I most likely pushed Okinawa further away from me.
The Okinawan training camp had just started when this happened:
In my family, in the group of the "shiro" that we had, the one
with the most power was my grandmother, and she came to the camp. So she told
me this.
"You've finally come home. Go to your great-grandfather's grave. Then,
do what you believe is right. Because you don't need to worry. Instead, when
people need your strength, then obediently lend it to them. Once in a while,
come home, visit your great-grandfather's grave and let him see your smiling
face. This is what you should do."
These words were difficult for me to understand. I didn't believe in spiritual
things, so what was she talking about? There were also other related things.
Gathering up my soulscthings like that.
She said that I had confronted death on a constant basis because I hadn't
been taking care of my souls. People all have many souls, and when you lose
all of them, that is when you die. However, when a shock actually happens,
without thinking about it, you leave a soul behind at whatever place it happened
at. My grandmother told me this.
When I was seven years old, I drowned in the Yanbaru sea. Because I surely
left one of my souls behind there, she said I was going to go get it back.
Yescthat was the first time I'd ever heard about something like losing a
soul. I felt like saying to her, "How many years have passed since I
was seven? Just hurry up and talk faster."
All the ceremonies and rituals didn't mean anything to me. "Am I supposed
to pick this up?" I thought to myself.
I had always been in denial of all things such as sorcery or witchcraft.
That's not to say that I believe in any of that now, either. It's just that
I don't deny it all anymore. I have come to realize that if I sort through
the things that were said by my grandmother and my great-grandfather and the
senior members of my family, there is definitely meaning in them.
The things that I experienced as a child don't bring me any pleasant memories.
They're very painful. So because of that, I came to have a part of myself
deny all of it.
However, at this Okinawan training camp, being one of the descendents of
those members of my family, I felt that I had found an accepting attitude
towards my culture.
I think it is because of that. I become able to look myself in the eye in
the mirror. My smile in the mirror became happy. Until then, I hadn't wanted
to see myself, but I finally became able to. Should I say that I've become
able to accept myself as I really amc.?
Now every year during my yearly visit to my great-grandfather's grave, I
return to Okinawa to let my family see me.
If I think back on it, since I've gone to Tokyo, I always restrained myself
wherever I went and continued to endure everything patiently. I convinced
myself that I had to do this.
However, when I went to Okinawa, my grandmother told me, "You were called
and you came home. Now once more, start again from here." When she said
that, my heart became joyful again.
With that, I can finally fight. It felt like a huge burden had been lifted.
Instead of suppressing myself altogether due to the surrounding circumstances,
fighting back and making progress forward is much more suited to my character.
Back then at that time, I decided to be the leader to my band members, to
fight, to keep running straight ahead with my vision of my solo career.
Section 3, Chapter 4
Saigo no Soumatou
[The Last Revolving Lantern]
We stayed in the Okinawa training camp for about 3 months.
If you drove out about 3 or 4 minutes from the headquarters by car, you would
reach an island. Then, further off from that island, you could see another
island. Though usually you would get to that island by boat, I started wondering
if I could try and swim there.
Since I almost drowned as a child, I had always been terrified of the ocean.
That didn't mean I didn't swim. At this boarding house, I got the idea that
I was going to conquer my fear of the ocean.
I swam halfway there and then swam back. I would do that every day, and then
I said, "Today I'm definitely going to swim out there to that island!"
I went out swimming with the keyboardist of my band.
That day, the tides were farther out than usual, and the waves were higher.
When I looked over, he wasn't there anymore. We had gotten separated.
Had he already gone ahead? Did he go back? Did he get here and then turn
around?
Floating in the choppy water, I anguished about this for a while, but because
I'd promised that I would swim to the island, I once again aimed myself towards
it.
I just barely managed to make it to the island. My keyboardist wasn't there.
I walked around for a little while looking for him, but I couldn't find him.
All the while I was thinking that he must have turned around and gone back
earlier, but anxiety flitted through my mind. Was he safe?
I immediately did a U-turn.
The trip back was very intense. The tides were even stronger, and I realized
that I would quickly be swept out to the open sea. As I was swimming back,
with all my might, I was thrown under by the waves.
"Ah, I'm going to die."
In my own mind, that revolving lantern began to spin. Bits and fragments
of memories from my childhood until that moment began to surface one after
the other. Along with those fragments, the faces of different adults floated
up. Friends, fans who had cheered for me, staff, my familyc
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for dying like this."
I apologized to everyone. As I fell, I began to lose consciousnesscand then,
suddenly, the revolving lantern stopped.
"Everything before thiscwhen did it happen?"
As I was conscious of my death, the thought of sex suddenly floated up into
my head.
For three months since we had been in Okinawa, I hadn't had any. I was always
training and songwriting. I hadn't been connected with a woman.
"Can I really die like this?"
The instinct inside me was whispering.
"If you die, it will be after you've done it."
At that moment, my consciousness became clear, and within a dream, I began
to swim. I didn't even know which way was up, but I kept swimming. At the
moment that I reached the surface of the ocean, I vomited out all the ocean
water that I had drunk. With that, I came to my senses again.
"I have to rescue him!"
Already forgetting that I had just almost drowned, the only thing in my mind
was the guy who I had gotten separated from.
I arrived back on the beach, and when I finally got there, the sun was beginning
to set. Because we'd started out to the island at noon, I realized that we
had been drifting out there for a long time. I was exhausted from using all
my strength, but I started running. It was a long way where I was to the point
where we first started out.
Finally I reached our starting point, but the keyboardist hadn't returned.
I even thought about preparing to send a search boat out for him.
While I was doing all this, he returned by himself. It was about an hour
after I landed on the beach.
He hadn't gotten to the island after all, but midway he had made a U-turn
and had been pulled under by the waves. No matter how hard he paddled, he
couldn't make any progress, seeming to be swimming towards a tanker he had
seen from far away. He drifted to shore about three kilometers near it, and
walking back had cost him time.
Anyway, we were both glad we were safe. We were told by the other members
things like, "That was stupid," "At any rate, you came back,"
and "Don't be so reckless!"
That night, as the two of us were reflecting on what had happened, we watched
"Titanic."
The scene in which DiCaprio sank into the icy ocean coincided perfectly with
what had happened to me.
In that instant for the first time, I felt true fear. From the next day on,
I wouldn't go near the ocean, and I discontinued my swimming training. Though
I had believed I would conquer the ocean, now I was even more afraid of it.
It was a mess.
That time, I thought, "I can't die before I have sex again." If
I had had sex the day before, then as I was seeing the revolving lantern at
the last moment, I would have died.
However, even as I thought "I'll probably die," my body responded,
"Damn it, I can't die like this! I can't die without leaving any descendents!"
And at the last minute, I switched.
For the first time, I understood the reason that often, a boxer will abstain
from sex the night before a match.
That was the last time I ever saw the revolving lantern. It's been 3 or 4
years since then. In order to recognize my own limits, thinking about when
I pushed myself to the brink of death and saw the revolving lantern, I changed
myself.
When I was a child, I thought I wanted to become a terrorist. I was going
to completely destroy human life. I wanted to erase everything. People were
the guns of the world. They were the most useless thing on the face of the
earth.
If you ask me today if I have changed my mind, I didn't change it because
of what happened. If the existence of humans makes them into the guns of the
world, even now, I still believe a part of that.
However, is that all?
Denying that would be easy. Thinking about it, denying it, becoming nothing.
It doesn't take a great effort to do that. There would be no meaning in living.
Certainly, humans may be the guns of the world. If that's true, in order to
become something else, won't we have to struggle harder? Not only thinking
about it, acting it out, experiencing it, we begin to see the things that
are wrong. Isn't that the meaning of being born on this earth?
Believing that, that is the kind of person I am now.
When I wanted to become a terrorist, I was struggling. In the Okinawa ocean,
I switched my view on life. Still, I have to continue to struggle. I can't
just sink. I have to keep on floating.
When I was floating on my own, then I thought of my friends. There was a
time too when I was hungering for friendship. I felt inferior, and it was
a time when I didn't trust in anyone or anything. However, I still struggled
during that time, fighting with loneliness and myself.
After returning to Tokyo, I met with the most trusted person on my staff,
who was like my right arm. I talked with him and told him this:
At first when I returned from Okinawa, I was like broken, fragile glass.
It was almost as if I was afraid even to speak. I was always in a frenzy.
It so bad that it was like I projected an aura of "if you touch me, I
will kill you."
Though it was just me alone, I was fighting till the end. I was full of spirit
and energy.
That spirit inspired the staff member I was talking to.
"If it's him, isn't he doing something for me? If it's me, then isn't
there something that I can do for him?" he started to think.
Because of my struggle, I made a friend. Now, he is the most important member
of my family.
Little by little, I started to change the people around me. Maybe on that
day, I took another step across what it means to be human.
Section 3, Chapter 5
Madagascar no Kettou
[Duel in Madagascar]
Three years ago, I went to Madagascar. A small island country on the east
side of the African continent, its area is 1.6 times the size of Japan and
it has a population of about 1,600,000.
I went to do some work for NHK. When they told me about it, I thought that
I could do some soul-searching there. At that time, I was really in need of
that.
It was my second year going solo. While I was continuing with my musical
activities, I was searching for how I could aim for what I wanted in my own
style.
We went to villages where things like "Madagascar Wrestling" and
"Madagascar Boxing" were popular.
Truthfully, it was amazing. When we arrived at the village, the villagers
were all high from smoking marijuana [#1]. And yet, because each and every
day they would walk many kilometers, draw water, till the soil on their land,
such a lifestyle molded their bodies into something resembling sculptures.
These guys get into really spirited fights without using boxing gloves.
It must be instinct.
People form a ring around these fighting guys, and the women and children
of the village watch the fight. It's actually like a fight between two male
lions to see who gets the female lion. It was also a place to test the strength
of the men.
Naturally, there were also people who went in there who were insignificant.
That was really frightening. Just by watching it, I was also feeling very
afraid. The muscular strength of the fighting men. All the African people
had muscles of steel.
At first, I was just watching. Then, the director started asking me.
"Gackt-san, do you want to go in?"
"When you say 'do you want to go', are you going to make me go?"
At that time, someone finished their match, and I decided to go. I wanted
to fight a Madagascar person!
About 100 people, adults and children, gathered around, forming a giant circle
around me.
It was the first time this had ever happened. In that fashion, in the midst
of people I didn't know, I was standing alone, surrounded.
Being the underdog like this was also a first for me. From the bottom of
my heart, I was insignificant. However, at the same time, my heart was pounding.
In this event, there was no place I could run to, and in this kind of dangerous
situation, I was really excited and nervous.
I was standing in the center of a ring of sand, which made for a lousy foothold,
and right in front of me I could see 4 or 5 energetic African guys.
On that side, in a reckless, wild tone, a guy who seemed like a coach was
stirring up people. In the native language, he would say things like "You
can pick anyone you like."
I was a competent fighter. Was I going to become stupid? We exchanged words.
I glared at the man and said:
"Can't you fight me? I want to fight you."
In that instant, all the villagers around me burst out in a loud roar.
"Coach, you can do it!"
Their eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Me?"
Seeing their facial expressions, the man unfastened his garment and took
it off. Under it appeared pure black skin without a trace of fat. He was definitely
a suitable opponent!
It was no wonder that the villagers cheered loudly. No, no, he had one of
those unbelievable physiques. I couldn't compare him to any other opponent.
However, I didn't draw back. Above the crowd of villagers that was being
stirred up, I felt a strange tension rising.
I didn't really know the rules. It was no good to punch or kick, and it was
explained to me that the only way to win was to make the person's face or
shoulder hit the ground.
It was a very primitive sort of explanation. However, it was enough for me.
If I tried it, then I would know if I could do it or not, and with that, I
challenged him to a match.
However, the second the match started, I was punched.
"Hey, you just said that I couldn't hit you!"
And then, a change came over me. The battle that had been sleeping inside
me awakened.
In that instant, I thought that I was going to kill my opponent. It was an
awareness of my own self that I had forgotten, and I was prepared to break
his neck. His neck was just below me, twitching. All the villagers and the
referee came running in a panic, taking my hand and stopping me.
Then, the match was ended. Though they had promised me three fights, it was
stopped only after one.
My opponent was also very agitated and excited. After he got back up, he
was saying "Let's go another round!"
"What are you saying? You almost died!"
I would watch the footage of that time over and over after that.
My eyes were very dangerous. The staff in the office said severely, "We
can't let the fans see that!"
However, I had already clearly confirmed it. This was my true nature.
I thought that that part of me had been buried deep inside me from a long
time before. With this foundation in place, it didn't mean that I was a violent
person, but that more and more, I had to liberate this spiritual side of me.
At that time, not being able to pursue the things that I felt, the things
that I fought for, and also the works that I wanted to produce was no good.
More and more, it was no good if the weak parts of myself and the dangerous
parts of myself couldn't come together.
When I was ten years old, I was a dangerous cluster of things.
However, before I knew it, I had completely suppressed the dangerous parts
of myself.
I was bound up by rules, and it was like I had been imprisoned inside of
a jail cell of myself. Whenever the wild part of myself would appear, I concealed
it, and at that time, I really felt that I had curbed that part of me.
After the match, the village chief came out and said:
"In this far land, in the midst of hostile soil and many spectators,
you put forth strength, took a step forward, and fought this battle. This
strength is now sent out to all the young people who were watching you fight.
Thank you."
That was what he thought.
I said, "What I was meant to do, the way that I was meant to fight,
the way that I was meant to becit was this way."
After I came back from Madagascar, I wondered if I had changed a great deal.
I became sociable. It was strange to be sociable with others. I became more
conscious of the other people around me.
One explanation is that whenever I thought the situation was becoming dangerous,
I would ask myself if I should start become active or not, and I would always
act more actively than I had in the past. Regarding who I used this on, I
would fight anyone, even if they were a friend. However, if that was the case,
I began thinking about that recently.
More than just curbing my lifestyle, I was killing myself by not being able
to put essential parts and dirty parts into the same person. That applies
both to my activities and the things I produced. I became more aggressive
than I had been before.
The people around me also began to change. After I came back from Madagascar,
until then I had by a mysterious twist of fate, been meeting many different
people. Now, around me are people who I call my "family" and are
bound to me through mutual relationships.
I think that this thing called "fate" is something that comes forth
from each individual person, and it carries us along.
My inner self changed, so did my fate change as well?
When the power of thoughts meets the power of action, a result is born. That
is what I think.
[1] マリファナでキマって、飛びまくっていた。
Section 3, Chapter 6
Boku no Family no Tanjou
[The Birth of My Family]
I would die for my family.
The thing I call "family" is not my actual family. It consists
of friends who I have a mutual understanding with.
At present, my family consists of, at most, around 10 to 15 people. They
have various jobs, and there are both men and women. The circumstances of
our meetings were also varied.
It's strange, but until I went to Madagascar, I hadn't met most of them yet.
At any rate, I feel like I have a great group.
Out of these 15 people, most of them can be called "owners." They
are the ones who remain at the top of any family. There are also some that
are involved in politics.
If I include everyone up and down the line, I will end up with quite a lot
of people in the group. It's not a matter of 1+1=2. If everyone in a family
meets everyone else face to face, the numbers will increase all at once. Though
we call this "the rule of family," it's a very mysterious increase.
However, that's not the reason we come together.
The top people who have always been by my side have mostly fought their battles
in loneliness. It's not just that the people under me cannot show the weaker
parts of themselves. It was also that they had a responsibility to stand up
on their own, and no matter how you look at it, being burdened with the lives
of others made them very mature [lit: have an exact understanding].
Since I went solo, I've become self-aware and have gained a viewpoint of
associating with other people who are self-aware. We run towards the front.
There's no excuse, and we can't escape it. If I stop running towards what
lies ahead, then they will also feel like stopping. In the past, I always
thought that.
It's said that fighting through life [lit: tatakau=to fight a battle] alone
is the easiest thing to do.
However, in recent times, I've thought about this very keenly. Certainly,
fighting through life alone may be the easiest thing. Still, those who fight
while believing in something are certainly strong!
In the past, until I joined Malice Mizer, because I was a fighting man, I
didn't care if I fought to the point of collapse. And when I collapsed, I
would only think that at least I'd thought that would happen before it did.
Now, however, I don't do that anymore. Because I don't fight my battles just
alone anymore. Now I have a family. I have people at my back supporting me.
Though there were times that I thought that I was supporting them, truthfully,
I began to feel like I was being supported by them. They are the people who
watch my back. So, if they hold me firmly, I will never fall.
I think, now, that people's hearts have the ability to become just as strong
as if they were wearing a protective amulet.
The top people in my family also feel this way.
While they individually were struggling through in loneliness, being all
together in the consciousness called family gave them the feeling that they
would not be beaten by anyone. There is family and there are rivals, and we
can provoke each other or we could have a good relationship.
The number one reason why I believe in them is that they are not people who
only are concerned with simple and easy things. At stories of positive things,
they smile from the bottoms of their hearts. At stories of bad things, negative
things, they know that it's not definite.
In general, why is it necessary to tell stories of worrisome and painful
things? It's because telling them will ease the pain, right?
If you lick the wounds that you carry, then certainly they will become a
little less painful. However, if you stop licking them, the pain will begin
again.
So even though it hurts, you should stich up your wounds quickly. It will
really hurt while they're sewn up, but after it's over, you'll be on your
way to being healed. In other words, it's a relationship between our hearts.
Talking about things that are painful to each of us and licking each others'
wounds is something that other people besides us can do as well. Whenever
someone is carrying a heavy burden, what's important is how much we can help
that person stitch up those wounds.
Sewing the wounds up will be extremely painful. There isn't any anesthesia,
not in the words that we use. But after it's over, we heal without having
even a trace of the scar left [lit: not knowing where the wound is]. That
is how things are.
For example, the business that one of the people in my family was running
was in trouble. He couldn't really tell anyone else about this. By himself,
not talking to anyone about it, he could have dealt with it.
However, he told us this news. Because he told us in person, we realized
how grave the problem was. So, not working with anyone else, we all individually
wondered how we should help him. No one said "Let's all work together
and help him out." So our help progressed very slowly.
Helping someone isn't just "one way." You have to choose which
is the best way to do it, and it's hard work. In his case, that was necessary.
Of course, can we all continue to succeed all the time? No one knows that.
But when we have to ask ourselves that, we don't just sit there and say "poor
guy." That's just rude. Saying "poor guy" to people who are
fighting hard isn't just showing compassion. It can be said that people get
weak to the point where they don't have any more strength left [lit: cannot
put out power], and they fall. For this reason, I think, we don't lick each
others' wounds, and no matter what is going on, we all must walk forward.
Though there are misunderstandings, we're not a family because we each succeed
on our own. That's not a requirement for a family. The important thing is
that whenever something comes up, we can have a truthful [lit: without getting
lost] mutual understanding with each other, and that we can have fun together.
However, if we don't believe in one another, we can't act.
In my family, whenever someone is hurting, I don't sit by that person and
say to them, "Oh, that's too bad that you're hurting," but rather,
I take the position of saying, "you can do it!" In order to do this,
I should become stronger.
It's good for all of us to live as if we have an amulet protecting us.
When someone was doing something and ran into a problem, when they looked
into their own pocket, they pulled out the amulet...
I think we should all live like that.
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