解放区

People with jobs like ours are in a position where we are frequently watched. But it doesn’t stop there. The results of our appearance will then get quantified into numbers. TV ratings are of course a result of not just a single person so I shouldn’t have to worry too much. Still, there’s a part of me that can’t help but be painfully conscious of my actions.  For example. When there’s a press announcement for an upcoming film or drama, I can’t bring myself to straight up say “I can’t think of anything” even when that is the truth and always feel like I have to do something if only to keep up appearances.

What really made me start to think my actions through carefully was a feature some weekly photo rag oh-so-kindly published about me. Because what hurt wasn’t the fact that people started to talk smack about me, but about the people I know who were unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it was just me, it’d simply be like tripping and falling and going “Whoops!” For that, all I have to do is pick myself up.  But when it happens to someone else through no fault of theirs, it takes a lot to put things back to right.

When I confronted the so-called writer who wrote that feature, they just said to me right off the bat, “But getting stuff written about you is part of what being famous is all about!” Knowing that they can’t be reasoned with, I just told them to put themselves in the shoes of people they write about and left it at that.

Thanks to that, I went through a pretty rough time. Not trying to come off sounding poetic or anything like that but it really felt like a knife to the gut. And for a while after that, I was completely out of sorts.

Despite what I have going on personally, at work, the others would be laughing and singing just like normal.  And I know this may come off as cold but if I thought about it, I’m the same as everyone else. Even if another person is having a tough time, there’s really nothing much I can do for them other than to empathize. When I realized that, I had to ask myself if my worries are really all that different.

It was around then that a friend who lived nearby brought his kid over. It was a 2-year old boy. And somehow or other, I ended up being in charge of entertaining the tot. I had Porsche and Corvette toy car models and was a bit anxious about them at first but from the moment the kid saw them and went “Wow~~!” I was a goner. Next thing I knew, we were playing with them and I was going:

“Zoom! Kerr-rash! Ka-boom! “

“Oh noes, the cars are destroyed!”

“Look, the tires came off!”

I realized as I was having fun with the boy that I didn’t feel bothered by anything at all. It’s a wonder, really. Kids have zero qualms in just straight up telling you to your face if they don‘t like something. They’d just nod and say, “Yeah, I like it!” if they do like something and shake their head and say “No, I hate it!” if they don’t. If you do something they think is interesting, they’d just be amazed and go, “Wow!” They’re aren’t afraid of anything. And seeing their clear and honest reactions makes me unafraid, too. It’s pretty amazing.

When they left, I ended up giving the boy everything we played with, up to and including the blue Porsche convertible that was my favorite.  And I told my buddy, “Anytime you folks want to have a date night, just send this lil’ fella my way. I’ll babysit ‘im for you.”

When we play with kids, it’s mainly because we want to enjoy ourselves. My job for sure involves the enjoyment of others. But I believe that it shouldn’t stop there and that it’s important that in doing my job to entertain others, I need to enjoy what I’m doing myself as well. And I need to become more immersed in doing the things I enjoy. Whatever I'm involved in doing, even if I have to exert effort to persist, I want to keep at it until the end. But I also don’t want to ignore the part of me that simply wants to be honest with what I like and what I don’t. So! Imma do just that when it isn’t about work. There’s plenty of stuff I want to try outside of it anyway.

As adults, we always seem to have to keep reminding ourselves that we aren’t kids anymore but now I’m more thinking what’s so wrong with acting like one sometimes? If I can’t be honest with myself, who else can I be honest with? At the end of the day, I’m just as weak as any human and no matter how much I want to deny that truth, no one knows it better than myself. With all the shit that gets written about me and if that isn’t bad enough, I’ve also recently been coming home to find my mailbox broken into and ransacked, it all adds up to become enough to drive a person into deep depression. And I’ve come to learn that if we were to force ourselves to act strong and unaffected in this low state, it really only makes things worse inside.

When we feel weak and dispirited, it’s foolish to even pretend to remain strong.  Times like that, I just want to let it all out and shout, “I freakin’ hate this!”

Imagine waking up, taking a shower and then opening up the curtains to be greeted by a pod of about 30 dolphins jumping and frolicking in the waves. That was the sort of nature untouched by man that I got to experience when I went to Maui Island in Hawaii for a magazine interview.  The island dwellers there are completely different from anyone else I've met. I guess there’s no better word to describe them than “mellow,” which a lot of them are. The word “mellow” itself means exactly as it sounds. They don't seem to stress themselves out much and tend to simply go with the flow. Just being able to meet people like that makes going to Maui a beyond worthwhile experience.

Surfing at a Maui beach, I would occasionally come across this famous old surfer. He’d make small inane talk like, “Great weather today, huh?” or “Didja see that whale comin’ up back there?” and we’d take pictures after coming out from the sea. The whole exchange would take maybe around 10 minutes, after which we’d part ways with a simple, “See ya ‘round.” That was it. The old timer would then jump into his car and drive off. Watching him as he disappeared from view, I’d think to myself, “I could get used to this.”

Maybe when meetings happen naturally, the parting also feel natural. Like, when we casually part ways, there’s a notion that we could just as casually meet again. Imagine how awkward it‘d be if we made a big deal out of parting ways only to bump into one another almost immediately in the same train or something.

I never felt sad even when I graduated or when I moved out to live on my own. During high school graduation, my head was full of thoughts on what to do next. The concept of parting ways honestly didn’t occur to me until I saw some girls crying about it. And well, it’s cute when girls cry about things like this. Even though we shared the same classroom for a while, it wasn’t like we ever had a single meaningful conversation so I’d go up to some of them and ask them what they’re crying for.

I'm always thinking about what comes next so, if anything, I think of it as something to look forward to when it comes time to part ways. And I think that’s because the changes that happen are all ones I’d have picked anyway.

Truth be told, I neither prefer nor agree with the term “parting,” because I believe that from the moment people meet, even if it’s just the one time and no matter how short the encounter, they are connected one way or another for life. Even when it comes to romantic relationships, even if I were to break up with the other person, I don’t want to think that’s the end of everything between us. If staying friends isn’t an option, then I’d like for there to be something still. Something new that doesn’t need to be defined.

After graduating, when I could no longer use semester to separate time, I started to book end them by the run of a drama series’ run or by the start and the wrap-up of the work that I do. Being able to meet a ton of people, there are of course going to be people with whom I merely pass by. But among all these people, there are some who may only know me as “Kimutaku” at first but see me as “Takuya Kimura” after they’ve gotten to know me.

They’d say, “Hm, you’re a lot easier to talk to then I thought you’d be,” or “You’re just a regular dude!” And we’d become friends. When that happens, it always feels like when I change out of a costume. And even for friends, I prefer not to define them separately by identifying whom I can consider as a true friend and whatnot. Whether they be a close friend or simply an acquaintance, I’m not particular. I believe it’s only natural to want to spend time with people whom we feel we can have a good time with at any particular time without the need to rank them in order of closeness.

I know it’s pretty out of character for me but I recently started using the computer.  Just a short while ago, I had thought it‘d probably be something I’d never become acquainted with. Hide, who just got transferred to play for a team in Italy, was bugging me about keeping in touch via e-mail so in order to dissuade him of the idea, I jokingly said to him, “But I don’t own a computer. Yanno, since my birthday’s right around the corner, how about you gift me one? I’ll e-mail you as much as you want then.” And, well, he did just that. He’s even got it all configured and set up nicely.

Not leaving me with much of a choice, I flew to start fulfilling my part of the bargain and managed to send him my first e-mail somehow. The next day his reply came: “See? You can do it if you try.”  It’s always nice when someone tells us we can do it, or that we did it. This part of me didn’t change at all from when I was a little pre-school going kid.

I then wasted no time in sending e-mails to the friends I made in Maui, all the while feeling like I’ve got to be one of the most blessed people on earth when it comes to meeting people.

-jimbocho-

The best times of my life are still in the the time I spent in middle school. The school I went to was huge and the classes for each grade spanned from A to J. The ground was so spacious, it had a baseball ground, a soccer field and even a couple of courts each for soft tennis and basketball. And I haven't even mentioned the gym and the school buildings yet. To me, it wasn't a place to learn, it was a place where I get to meet people. I mean, I do listen during lessons but I never take down notes.

That school didn't have a single regulation. In the student handbook, there were only the school anthem and road signs printed. Students can wear their pants baggy and their shirt collars unbuttoned and they can even bleach whatever they want. The freedom is almost absolute, though I did get chased down by teaches a couple of times after being caught doing some minor thing or other I shouldn't at the back of the gym building.

Bullying is slightly more rampant than it is now, I think. It's not the kind where lunch money gets extorted and more the sort where a kid would get manhandled into a toilet stall and have water sprayed over their heads. They'd get called all kinds of names like poison mushroom or whatever and be told things like, "Dayum, I came in contact wit'ya and now I can't wear these clothes no more!"

Strangely enough, though, you'd still see the bullies and their vic going home together after school and when they're in the same team in a basketball or soccer or volleyball match, they'd still pass the ball to their vic and basically get along.

The first high school I was in had conventional rules in place. Anyone who had naturally frizzy hair or if their hair was naturally brownish, they'd have to carry documentation that proves it's natural. In the end, though, I only went there for a year. I had a more interesting time in the part-time one I transferred to after. There I met a kid who could sing English songs better than anyone and there's also a kid who can play the guitar so well, everyone would shut up and listen whenever he picks one up.  There wasn't a uniform so everyone groomed their appearance however they wanted and outfitted themselves in fashionable clothes.

As far as studies go, I did all I could to maintain enough credits to graduate. I've even gone as far as do things that would get me side-eyed. Which is to say, I cheated. I'd arrive at school way earlier than everyone else and jot down all the answers to questions I think will appear on the desk with a mechanical pencil. But despite expending so much effort into the task and it was my own desk I vandalized, someone came in during lunch break and from there, the seats got filled up randomly one-by-one. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

There was also once where some of us in class shared answers and got found out because we ended up all making the same mistakes. Called into the teacher's room, I was told to write an apology letter in the form of a haiku so I half-assed it and submitted something that went along the lines of, "This test is stupid. Doing it has no meaning.  Why must we do it?" But instead of getting mad, the teacher said, "Good job!" and then proceeded to enter it into some kind of Tokyo-level competition. It even got published on a digest or journal of sorts...

Even now, I harbor no regrets for not studying harder back in school. I can't even recall most of what I learned there. And even if some people were to have gotten straight As in their report card as kids, I have yet to come across a single person as an adult who'd go, "I was a straight-A student, ya know?" I also don't think I've met anyone whose good results in school directly contributed to where they are now.

If anything, I think it's enough to get a single A even if everything else is a C. Like, SMAP does a number of things but I can't say we are good at everything we do. But for the things I'm good enough at to score an A for, I'd invest everything I've got into it. I think that's what it means when you're doing something as a profession.

Even among friends, if one person is weaker at something, as long as there is someone else stronger at it who is able to make up for the lack, everyone in the group can compensate for one another's shortcomings. People do say that when incomplete puzzle pieces come together to form a whole, many facets that would otherwise remain unseen become visible.

Dont get me wrong. I'm not saying that everything we've learned in school is useless. But once we've become adults, we will come to learn that it isn't as important as they made it seem back in school. Because what's more important when we grow up is how much we are able to back up the things that we say and do, and how capable we are in taking responsibility for them. This is something all adults would already be wise to so I've always found it strange that most of them would still pressure kids to study hard in spite of their wisdom.

You won't ever catch me doing it, no sir. I'll never utter a single peep about it. Though I'm guessing that, in itself, may become a bit of problem at some point.

As a kid, pop used to say stuff like, "It's a promise between us men, aite?" and even to a tyke, that sort of thing strangely holds a lot of weight. It's a long time ago but I can remember the feeling I had even to this day. Pop had me at a pretty young age so he's someone I felt very close to and maybe it's because of that, I kind of also saw him as a rival. I know this sounds cringy but there's a certain kind of passion between him and me.

The promises I made to him usually revolves around not causing trouble to others, which in itself is already a Kimura principal rule. But because I have an unyieldingly competitive sort of character, I'm always working desperately to not break it. If I had to guess, I think my folks knew very well this tendency I had and used it to their advantage. For example, back when I was still in high school and things got a bit hectic due to work, there was this day where he came up to me and said, "At the rate you're going, I'm betting you'll either be held back or flunk out." And predictably enough, that had me all fired up, promising myself that I'm gonna make him eat his words. The work I had to put in was backbreaking but I somehow managed it in the end, though it was probably all part of pop's strategy that I played right into.

A promise just seems like such a human thing to make and it also allows for some wriggle room. Unlike contracts and other things with legal constraints, a promise carries more a connotation of "I said I'll do it but I can't guarantee the outcome." Still, that doesn't mean if someone were to break their promise to me, I'd be able to simply shrug it off. At the end of the day, whether or not a person keeps their promise may be able to tell us the kind of person they are.

I've since stopped trying to one-up pop by making and fulfilling promises to him. I reckon that with people close to us, there's no longer a need for promises. Promises are a way to guarantee the future but even without them, we tend to want to do things for our close friends and family because we care and hope that the feeling is reciprocated in kind. I personally prefer outcomes that come about not through any promises being made, but simply through the course and buildup of natural circumstances.

Family and close friends aside, for me, there is still the reality where I find myself feeling compelled to make promises to various people in various situations in the environment that I usually find myself in.  There are also plenty of situations where rather than promises, trades or exchanges are made instead. And of course, there are also times when I thought something has been set in promise only to be disappointed when it turned out differently in the end with some kind of logical excuse attached as to why. Different people deal with this kind of situation differently so I always tell myself that no matter what, if I find myself in such a situation, I will do my best to hear the other party out without prejudice.

Even so, some experiences are tougher than others and thanks to them, I now feel as tempered as a katana that has been pounded on with a steel hammer, stuck into burning hot fire and splashed with freezing cold water over and over and over. But even taking these experiences into account, I do not want to waste a single one of them. With each one I go through, Imma become stronger until I become the most unbreakable katana there is. And I'll become so strong, I'll even be able to break the unbreakable!

Recently, I found myself making one-sided promises to those watching me, that whatever happens, they will all see my response to it through the results of whatever I do next. I feel that this is one way I can repay the people around me. As a single human being, I will absolutely live my life in a way where I have nothing to be ashamed of. And one way I can achieve that is to invest everything I've got into everything I do, even more than I already have been doing. And anything I feel like I want to try doing, I'm going to go at it all with all there is in me. This isn't limited to just work but also extends to when I'm having fun and to every other aspect of my personal life. Everything that I enjoy and all the choices I've made, I don't want to deny or regret a single one of them, Because if I do, I'd be doing a massive disservice to all those who have been behind me all along lending me their support.

At the end of it all, as a base evaluation criteria, what I absolutely do not want is to do anything that'll make others lose their respect for me. Which means I've got to make sure to not take the easy way out and simply fall into the trappings of commonly made choices, and instead carefully consider on my own what action to take before taking it. Of course, in doing that, there is going to be a bunch of things I'm going need to change about myself and it's not going to be easy making those changes. But I hope that in doing this, by my own strength and nature, I'll be able to subtly inspire or perhaps gradually influence a change in the environment around me.

Right now, high-school girls of a "certain age" are unmistakably controlling current market trends, from CDs to toys right down to food. Some of them even own designer handbags that, until just a while ago, you'd only see adult women with jobs having.  And adults working in companies are, predictably, studying them to devise marketing strategies targeted at them. No doubt there are even some who are earning way more than guys working part-time jobs. And they even seem to have it together much better than those who deign to lecture them on so-called age-appropriate behavior.

These girls also have a specific way of talking and you'd hear things like, "Or, yanno, like..." or, "...feels kinda like, yanno..."  in the sentences that they string, to which adults would simply shrug at.  The difference in speech pattern gives birth to a strong divide between age groups where adults would tend to adopt a condescending attitude towards the younger group. Besides speech, there's also clothing choice and actions that adults may not be able to get. They can analyze it all they want but they won't be able to fully understand it. And the ones who would even bother to attempt are few and far in between. Middle-aged men, especially, may find the task more daunting than trying to get into Tokyo U.

You often hear about escort services on the news which is something society tends to blame on the girls who do it  but in my opinion, the men who think it's okay to pay thousands to wine and dine them and in the end sleep with them are the real problem. There can only be supply when there's demand, and it's really not in anybody's place to stop the flow. Still, if a girl I know is doing it, I doubt I can just pretend to not notice. I don't know what I'd end up saying to her, though.

The gap isn't so big yet from when I was in high school myself but the girls are definitely more stylish now. They can get hella creative with their school uniforms. Like, they'd shorten the length of their skirts and play around with the length and size of their socks. Many also color their hair, turning it into something fashionable where before it's more seen as a sign of delinquency. If anything, it seems to give them a softer look compared to kids with jet black hair who seem more severe now. When I become a dad, and if I have a daughter who wants to do all that, I'd give her my full blessings. I'd encourage her, and even buy her whatever accessories--earrings, loose socks, etc-- anything she wants.

I probably feel a certain kinship towards these fashionable girls still in high school. I get the notion that them playing around with their school uniform is their way of expressing their desire for mental freedom from whatever authority they are under. In our world, we have production companies and record companies, but as a performer, I kind of want to assert my own individuality as well. Which I suppose is why I let my hair grow out and got my ears pierced. Way back when, I even used to wear my jeans so long I'd literally be stepping on the cuffs as I walked. The idea is to feel like  my own person and from there, decide whether or not what I'm doing is cool, or if I were a girl, cute. This has got nothing to with being rebellious initially but if my efforts get denied, thats when the rebellious spirit kicks in.

And that's why you'll see me rooting for these high school girls and their bid to freely express themselves from the shadows. Don't get me wrong, this isn't me singing them praises or showing them my respect or anything like that. It's just seeing them persevere in doing what they think is right for themselves despite disapproval from authority makes it hard to not want to root for them.

To these girls, I say, "Take it as far as you think you possibly can."   And then, I'd also add, "But make sure you've also got a roadmap to navigate with in hand." Turning on the headlights and revving the engine before taking off as fast as you can in a car is well and all but it's also important to know where there are no guard rails, or where there's a dead end or when a U-turn is prohibited.

Adult disapproval may also be kind of like road signs. So I hope you'll all at least try to not miss it if a sign tells you to make a temporary stop. Even if it may merely be the personal opinion of a teacher or a boyfriend or whomever, it's important to at least take their concern under careful consideration, as they only mean well.

Waking up in the morning, the first thing I'd do is look up at the sky. If I happen to have the day off and the weather looks good, I'd feel the beach calling. So I'd go and have myself some fun but call it a day when I feel it's a good time to stop, telling myself there's always next time. This is usually some time slightly after noon.

See, if ignored my senses, what will happen is that I'd feel extremely tired which means I'd be struggling to stay awake during the drive back to the city. This really isn't a condition I like finding myself in. Not only that, this would also affect the rest of my day because I wouldn't feel up to doing anything much with it. This is why I always prefer to stop while I'm ahead. This way, I'd still be able to do other things before the day ends.

For example, if I felt like going out to eat, I'd first take a quick shower and change into a nice tee. If the place only opens in the evening, say, at 6, I'd look around for something to do before I leave. Maybe I'd see that the floor could use some cleaning and figure there's time for it. After I'm done, I'd maybe notice that the vacuum is almost full and needs to be emptied out. So I'd empty the content into a trashcan, roll up the cord and put the vacuum back where it belongs. But as I do all this, I'd realize at the back of mind that I'm running short on time. And you know how irony works because it's only when we don't have much time that we'd find ourselves caught in heavy traffic. So I'd quickly switch tactics to use the back streets instead. If I made it there in time, I'd feel real proud of myself and do a little victory whoop.

Say the place I arrive at is a tonkatsu restaurant. When their food arrive, what most people would do is to squirt sauce all over their tonkatsu and focus on mainly eating just that. But I'd make it a point to eat some of the thinly sliced cabbage as well only to end up finishing everything on my plate. After that, I'd head home, soak in the bath for a bit and go to bed, where I'd quickly fall asleep.

I suppose everything I do is done with the intention of feeling good on the inside. Being an active sort of person, I'd spend time doing things that would keep my body moving. It's in this way that Im able to keep my spirit up. I dunno, it just feels like such a huge waste to me to not properly use the time I've got. Like, if I find myself lounging around just channel surfing with nothing in particular I wanted to watch, I'd get really pissed at myself. Because I could literally be at it for hours in the afternoon between 1 to 4 and by the time I realize it, the time would be gone forever. And I'd berate myself for not doing something else more productive with all that lost time.

I love going to the beach a lot but it feels good being in the city, too. It being convenient is one, but there's also the fact that a lot of people I know are there. Maybe a lot of it has got to do with work. Schedule-wise, a lot of times I'm there is due to work but personally, I don't really see it that way. I see it more as a place where I get to actively do things and stay moving. And, like I said earlier, that's something that always gives me a really good feeling. I mean, once the camera starts rolling, the actors I was having a lot of fun talking to just a minute ago would get into their character and turn into deadly assassins #1 and #2. It never fails to amaze me how I get to see things like that.

On a recent day off, I went for a stroll in the park. And just like that, I got hit by clear memories of the time I learned how to ride a bike there, like some kind of flashback. I think I was still a pre-schooler then. I recognized the slope that seemed so huge and neverending in my memory but seeing it now, I realized it's actually a pretty small slope that's not especially wide either. With the training wheels of my bike removed, pop told to get on it and from the top of that slope, gave me a push. Needless to say, the whole thing ended badly. There was also a path with a rock where I took a picture with him. He looked so grumpy in it, you'd think something crawled up his—

The Tokyo that I remember from back when I was a pre-schooler hasn't changed much, in all honesty. The park, which closes its gates at 5 in the evening, used to give me this forbidding impression that absolutely noone can get inside after closing hours. When I look at it now, though, I realized that the fence surrounding the property is actually so low, just about anyone could easily jump over if they wanted to. There were also times where I drove my car down a literal memory lane based on what memory I had alone only to find that it's actually too narrow for a car to pass through. I find it very neat how we still get to see places we’ve seen before when we were kids once again as grown ups.

When I left, I told myself I’d visit that park again. I'm not sure if this is just my ego talking, but I really want to bring my own kids to this place where I learned how to ride a bike as a kid, and teach them how to ride one themselves someday. And if the weather turns out to be sunny, I’m sure the feeling would be an amazing one.

I went to see a stage performance an actress I worked with before was in. Seeing her on stage, the only thing that came to mind was how cool she seemed to be up there. She had a kind of vibe that was completely different from when we worked together. After the show, I went to her dressing room to say hi, my heart pounding in my chest. It didn't matter that she was someone I knew well enough to joke around with, I was a nervous wreck.

It's nice when a relationship you have with someone allows for that kind of tension. Just goes to show that  the other person has a sort of charm you appreciate.

The first woman I've met is obviously none other than ma. She probably has a large influence on how I view women. Still, I'm not sure if that's the case for women that I end up liking. As far as I know, none of them look anything like her. A guy's gotta grow up, after all.

I've always liked people who seemed cool to me. That hasn't changed since I was little. It makes no difference whether they are male or female, when someone seems cool to me, it isn't about just physical aesthetics. Of course, when it comes type, I do tend to go for women based on various critieria like whether or not we match up height-wise, speech, scent, etc. But above all, what really does it for me is how much they appear to shine when they are deep in the process of doing something. That's why women absorbed in their work is something that I truly admire and seeing them in that state appeals to me so much and so often, it's basically my aesthetic.

The common saying of "I wanna do her" when seeing someone who appears sexy isn't something that'd cross my mind because when we like somebody, it isn't simply about that. In fact, when we truly admire someone, sex appeal is never a factor. There is zero need for women to do stuff like bring attention to their body line, or display their chest or wear short skirts that would maximize visual impact (like some do when they deliberately do that thing where they cross and recross their legs) to up their appeal. If anything, they appear sexier to me somehow in worn-out Converses and faded denim.

If we move a step forward from the differences in men and women, the next thing we'll come to see is what the person in question has within themselves as an individual. This is why even if my own partner gets so absorbed into their work that they don't have time to give to me, I'm willing to accept that side of them as well.

Something that occurred to me during the shooting of "Oda Nobunaga," was that when Nobunaga was lying down with his head on Nohime's lap and showing vulnerability for the first time as he grieved his father and anguished over the situation he was in, theirs is a relationship that does not need phrases like "I love you" or "beloved." Even without them, Nobunaga was able to seek great comfort on her lap...and I think that is the kind of strong woman I could easily fall for.

And even if the eras we live in and our positions are totally different, as a dude, it's hard not to like Nobunaga as one of the greatest rulebreakers there is. In the end, the only one who was able to recognize the truly great man behind the scruffy and rebellious facade was his wife. If it wasn't for her, he may not have amounted to anything more than what other thought of his as: a moron.

On TV, we often hear the lines, "What do you take me for?  Like what even am I to you? Air?? Is that  it?" Believe it or not, that's a relationship goal for me. Wouldn't it be just great if we can be the air that we breathe to each other?

Men will tend to change their attitude whenever there's women present. Like, if you get a group of guys just hanging out, the moment a girl enters the fold, you'll see a sort of transformation. Of course, even if it's just guys, there are plenty of times where the vibe's a comfy one. But ladies just have this way of drawing out something within us.

Which is why half of me feels lucky to have been born a guy but the other half of me wishes that weren't the case. Sure, there are plenty of things I was able to experience precisely because I was born male but there's a part of me that wouldn't have minded at all if I were born female instead. But even as I say that, I know that in reality, my brain has probably been hardwired with male settings because whenever I'm wandering the streets of Shibuya, it's the ladies I find my eyes keep following.

All in all, women are a real tough act to follow and they deserve all the respect. They are beings full of mysteries and surprises, able to invoke all kinds of feelings within. Truly, theirs is an existence that keeps on giving.

The drama "Good Luck!!" as far as I'm concerned, isn't a just story about one character's growth. The way I see it, it's much more than that, as it highlights how not just the cabin crew but also the ground staff do their utmost to ensure the safety of passengers. So I ended up choosing to play my role based on that.

A pilot's job, to put it simply, is to safely get passengers to their destination. But in doing so, it requires a vast amount of confidence and full readiness in being able to keep passengers safe should the aircraft be exposed to danger. It's only due to this that passengers feel assured enough to leave their lives in the hands of the pilot. It's got me thinking that, even when I go back to being just me, I should maintain this readiness to face any danger that might just be lurking around the corner.

"Hey, I saw that drama of yours. It was pretty interesting," a fellow band member may sometimes say to me whenever a show I happen to be in is airing. Even after so many years, hearing it said like that never fails to make me feel crazy embarrassed, because we all know one another inside out, including what our strengths and flaws are. So when one of them compliments me, the feeling that I get can't simply be described as "happy." It's a little more complicated than that. Never sure how to react, there's always a part of me that wants to play it cool and nonchalantly shrug it off, saying, "Oh that? S'all right, I guess. S'nothing special."

But the truth is, it's really the reaction of the people close to me that I pay most attention to whenever I do something. Viewership ratings are, of course, a source of motivation but what really gets me going is when people like my family or fellow members or the staff who worked on the show with me show approval by saying something nice about it to me.

This is one of the major things that drive me to keep doing the things I want to do. Whatever footprints I leave behind me is nobody's responsibility but my own. Even so, they aren't wholly mine alone. They also belong to everybody I've worked with and anyone else who's ever been a teammate. And for the sake of these people as well, I don't ever want to get carried away or make careless mistakes that result in some kind of major injury. Having said that, I don't want to be half-assed with what I do and end up not leaving a single trace either, when I look back on it years later.

Of course, there are going to be times where I'll make mistakes that require the scene be retaken. Whenever that happens, I'd berate myself for it, on top of feeling a mess of other negative emotions. But I know that doesn't really help so I need to learn to become the kind of person who is able to quickly get past it and smoothly recover. Adversity is something that brings out the fight in me. Obviously, whether the result turns out to be good or bad isn't something I'm able to tell until I actually attempt to do it. Even so, I want to develop the mental and physical fortitude that'll allow me to take on any and all sorts of challenges.

The people close to me really are an endless source of power to me. It's like all the people I think I'm protecting really are the ones protecting me instead.  Which, in turn, makes me want to become a beacon of power to them.  Don't get me wrong, though. I won't be doing it out of a sense of obligation to these people who are important to me enough to want to shield. It also has nothing to do with age and position. It's more a natural thing. As in, I'm doing it simply because I want to. I know I'm making these people sound extremely special with the way I put it and they are but there really isn't anything out of the ordinary with how I interact or communicate with them. It's not as though we have some kind of special word or look that we send to one another. What there is, though, is a sense of deeper, almost tangible camaraderie that is unspoken.

Back when I used to do kendo, I was the sort who'd focus more on offense rather than defense. Same goes for any other sport I play, like soccer. I always prefer to be on the offensive, so I'd just go in for the kill and see what the other player chooses to do. Defense is ultimately a result and, fundamentally, isn't something that will happen without the delivery of an offense in the first place. Because if we do not have a fixed angle of offense, all that's left is to either just take whatever hits come or run away. 

There are many things I treasure but I don't want to just remain passively guarding them either. I feel it's important to take everything into account and keep holding on to the desire to keep on the offensive.

Pretty often, I get letters from fans seeking advice. After reading them, it isn't difficult to see why they'd want to talk to someone about whatever issue it is they're having. But even if I were to put on my thinking cap and thought hard about how I could help, honestly, I could think of nothing. But somewhere within me, I felt that maybe that's okay. Because I didn't think the people who wrote in were really expecting me to do something about their issues anyway, and the real reason they wrote was to be able to come to a solution on their own. When someone wants to talk about whatever issues they are having with someone else, I think that most of the time, they are doing it in the hopes of getting the response they wanted all along. So what they are basically doing is seeking validation for whatever opinion or solution they've already come to.

Even for me, I realize that whenever I discuss personal issues with another person, the other person is usually someone who is already on the same page as I am to begin with. But when it comes to the matter of love, it's a little different. If I wanted somebody to understand what my feelings are, I'd seek out other guys among friends or those I'm acquainted with through work who are like me. But if it's the feelings of the other person in the relationship I'm trying to understand, I'd seek out ladies who are close to this other person and ask them instead.

When friends come to me wanting to talk about their issues, I'd try to give suggestions that come from my own perspective as much as possible. If the friend in need has reached rock bottom, I'd sink down there with them as I listened. If I didn't, there'd be no way I'd be able to empathize.

I've been having a hard time dealing with this major issue I've got for a few years now.  I guess it's gotten to a point where I was subconsiously sending SOS signals because friends who noticed would take me to the beach to surf or ask me out for a drink, and before I knew it, I was all right.  And when I realized I was out of the long, dark tunnel I was in, that's when it truly hit me how fortunate a guy I was. Not just in terms of having friends and people around me who care, but also in terms of non-tangible things like luck.

Looking back, there are many things that  I had a tough time going through but am also glad to have gone through. I'm not sure whether or not that makes me stronger as a person but I'm at least aware of what the pain I went through felt like.

The way they present themselves are sometimes different, but as a teenager, I've always been plagued by one issue after another. I suppose that's because I knew too little of the world back then and had yet to be hardened by experience and so, I was this kid who's perpetually confused and unsure of what to do. But the reality is, even as I gain experience as I grow older, new issues would just keep cropping up. I'm guessing this is how it'll always be and there's nothing I can do about it but be ready to face them as they come.

There are also times where we'd feel we've hit a wall. For example, when we develop feelings for someone else and find ourselves coming to a dead end not knowing what to do next. This is likely the time where we'd first realize the existence of the heart. The word "heart" itself isn't something we'd use or come across in our daily lives but the moment we fall in love with another person and become all sappy and romantic, we'd not only suddenly see and hear it everywhere, we'd also find ourselves using it all the time. In a way, its existence is kind of like God's, in that it's something we can neither perceive nor touch. But when we love someone, we can't help but want to get a clearer idea of what their heart feels like which I reckon maybe is why we tend to want to reach out to touch parts of them we consider an extension of it, like their hand or their hair or their body. Personally, I prefer somewhere below the neck rather than above it. And even though I'm calling whatever this thing is "heart," it doesn't actually have to be shaped like it.

You know how we describe people as having a big heart or a small one? I reckon it's true that things like the shape, hypothetical mass and content of an individual’s heart differ from person to person. Because mine somehow feels like a pebble–tiny and hard–which is why I always try to use both my head and body as much as possible to compensate instead.

The heart, I’m sure, is something we keep in a semi-translucent box that we protect with everything we’ve got, so much so that not even the great Arsene Lupin III can just easily make grabby hands at and disappear with like all the precious stones he's stolen.

I'm apparently as healthy as any ox. You know how some people are so healthy they hardly even catch a cold? I think I’m actually one of them. I very rarely ever fall sick.

I wish I could say the same when it comes to injuries, though. I can still clearly remember when, in high school, I suffered a fracture detachment on my ankle playing basketball and it swelled up to about the size of a tennis ball. I couldn’t get my shoe off so they had to snip it off. They were a brand new pair of basketball shoes, too :(

At the doctor’s, I was told that the bone needs to be broken completely for it to cleanly heal. He then proceeded to break it by hand. Placing a tightly wound up cloth between my teeth, he told me to count to three. Preparing myself, I began to count but then I heard a sickening crack before I could even finish counting up to two.

“But you said on three!” was my outburst.

“If I had waited until you finished, you’d have tensed up and I needed you relaxed,” came the calm but humored explanation.

Until today, I’d recall that break whenever I’m rushing down steps. My ankle still remembers the trauma from that day.

Right now, I don’t harbor a single complex about my body. Some men who suffer from hair loss would opt to cover their pates with wigs or toupees, or they may opt to undergo hair transplant procedures. I can’t say I understand the feeling of wanting to do that. If anything, if I’m going to lose my hair as I grow older, I’d rather welcome the experience with open arms. I actually think it‘s a pretty cool thing to happen. I don’t know in what way exactly it’s going to happen but if I have to pick between losing my hair and becoming fat, I’d much rather pick the former.  I just can’t shake the impression of wastefulness that tends to strike me when it comes to being overweight. Or maybe excess is the more accurate term. I’m just not a fan of the concept.

I’m of course aware that individual body makeup differs, and different individuals hold different sets of values but whenever I see someone overweight, I can’t help but think somewhere in the back of my head that they simply aren’t using their bodies the way they could have. Because it is up to the individual whether or not to include exercising their bodies on their list of things to do in their free time. A body is something that the person it belongs to can freely choose for themselves what they want to do with. It‘s simply a matter of whether we want to turn it into a sharp tool that cuts efficiently or simply let it become one that can’t cut through anything at all.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one for consciously building up the body either. For example, if I were to build up muscles for surfing, I may become able to tackle the waves better. But in my head, rather than wanting to get really good at it, all I really want to do is to simply get in there and surf. To me, doing something is less about training up the body so as to do it well but more about simply doing it. I much prefer to have my body get built up naturally through my effort in doing that something. Of course, I don’t skip warm-up stretches before I dive into the water or before I go out on stage to perform but to me, it’s more for show than anything else. I know full well that it has practical reasons like extending your muscles to avoid pulling them but I tend to use it more to hype myself up instead, going, ”Here we go...letsgoletsgoletsgo!” inside my head.

Thinking on it, my body itself may be a strong one but my inner self can get pretty weak. I mean, a part of it is strong but it feels like there’s a yawning gap between the stronger bit and the weaker one. Which is why I always have to make a conscious effort to use this stronger part of myself to haul the weaker one up. And I think my body just sort of physically adjusts itself to what’s happening on the inside on its own.

Just recently, I drove all the way to Kyoto on a private trip. As I was driving past, the bamboo screen on display in front of this shop caught my eye so I decided to make a stop to pay it a visit. The old man manning the place had arms with skin so dry, it looked ready to flake off anytime. He looked every bit the professional craftsman he was with his thick-rimmed black glasses and his way of glancing up and responding with a “’lo there.”  He had on something black that wasn’t quite a tanktop but a sort of running shirt that was all wrinkled up at the chest. He’s a small guy but when he briskly rolled up a screen and swiftly yet neatly gathered up the edges, I could clearly see the veins bulging up from his arms right up to his shoulders, which made me go, “Whoa.”

This was it. This is my ideal when it comes to building up my own body. Not by taking protein supplements and whatnot, but by a natural way of living and the conviction a person has in what they do.

Whether it be professional craftworkers or actors, people who are able to skilfully use their body as a tool always gives me the notion that they are the most enriched kind of people. If I were to able to make use of my body as naturally and as well as these people do, perhaps I’ll be able to get a body that tells a story I can be truly proud of.

I sometimes light up aroma sticks with scents I like at home. In the car, I use a vanilla-scented car fragrance gifted by a fan. And on my shirts, I use the perfume I usually do.  After getting out from the water at the beach or after work, it gives me a sense of comfort when I catch these familiar scents. There are also the times when I visit the family home and when I catch the scent of the interior, I’d question myself if that’s what it's always smelled like.

I also love the smell of gasoline. After pulling up at a stand, the attendant would go, “One full tank comin’ right up!” and the smell that assaults the olfactory senses the moment the attendant hits the lever and the pump starts working gives me an odd sense of happiness. This is probably something I reckon a lot of guys'd be able to relate.

Ever since I was a kid, I've loved the smell of taxis. The scent if it never fails to lull me into pleasant slumber. Other scents I enjoy are that of parmesan cheese sprinkled on pasta, olive, Hawaiian air and brand new tatami, to name a few. Oh, and the smell of babies, too.

The smell of health drinks brings me back. It's yet another scent I really loved as a little kid. I think I was maybe a pre-schooler when I had this stingy habit of hiding the ones in the fridge some place hard to find within so I could hoard them and have them all to myself. Other smells from childhood I have clear memories of are the art materials that were laying around, my pop’s suit when he came home from work, preserved squid from stalls in festivals or snack shoppes and yakisoba made with bottled sauce.

I suppose most would wrinkle their nose at it but I find the smell of kendo uniform calming and relaxing. If I'm not wrong, it's the smell of indigo dye. It’s also incredibly relaxing to smell on towels and jeans. I think this is all probably due to my childhood memories of having done the sport. I didn’t really like the training sessions but it was something I did for a long time, and this smell was something I’d inevitably come into contact with at least twice a week on a regular basis.

Smells that I find hard to stand are that of overpowering perfume, city ditches with running water, the dust collected in places that haven’t been cleaned in a while, etc. Oh, and also the smell of heat patches. Just catching a small whiff of those is enough to make me depressed.

As for smells I don’t have fond memories of, one would be the smell of textbooks. Flipping through it whenever I was handed a new one in class, the smell that would hit my nose would always make me cringe and exclaim out loud, “F*ck, this stinks!”

I get the notion that our like and dislike of certain smells are actually influenced by individual memories. If a smell is associated with good memories, we’d like it even if most others don't . Vice versa if it’s associated with bad ones. So the more of these associated smells we’ve got stored in our brains, the richer our lives become, is what I like to think.

With memories, we can also relate to the experiences of others. For example, when someone goes, “The smell that comes from futon dried under sunny weather sure be makin' a person feel pleasant, don't it?” Even if there's no futon in sight, I’d still be able to agree wholeheartedly because I know exactly what the other person is describing. Having experienced the smell plenty as a child, it would undoubtedly remind me of the good feelings it brought me back then.

If there’s one thing that can’t be conveyed with what we do, it’s scent. Whether it be drama, variety or magazine shoots, there have been more times than I could count when I got incredibly frustrated by how limited we are able communicate. In my head, I’d be thinking, “Why can’t I convey this smell I’m experiencing to the people who are going to see this?” Sometimes, I'd see descriptions like “the smell of burning asphalt” written as stage directions in the script, which would inevitably leave me utterly stumped as to how exactly I'm supposed to communicate it to the audience.

In Beautiful Life, in that scene where Kyoko was laid in the room on the day of her funeral, the incense sticks that we see were actually not included originally. They eventually ended up in the shot because I requested for there to be some. Yes, the smoke would get into the shot and more than likely obscure parts of the characters’ faces. But by seeing it in the shot, the audience may get a clearer idea of the smell that’s within the room. When the crew gave the signal for the camera to start rolling and the incense were lit, a feeling that's vastly different from before came over me. Because once I caught the familiar scent , feelings that I hadn’t experienced when simply reading the script came rushing forth. I'd expected some measure of change but none nearly that overwhelming.

It may not be possible to visually convey smell per se but as long as the people watching have their own memories associated to this particular one at least, they’d know for themselves what it’s like.

For people in our line of work, simply buying a hamburger takes courage and good timing. It’s very hard to not get mad if something private you didn't think would matter gets published in a way you’d never expect.

"For fuck’s sake, what’s so bloody interesting about the boring ass stuff that I do in private?"

There was even a time I went past the tipping point and started taking out my frustration on everyone and everything around me. Words of kindness and concern sounded like meddling to me and I’d end up snapping at the other person, who only meant well. When I realized the kind of person I had become, it struck me hard and I had to make a conscious effort to rein myself in.  I even gave serious thought to just quitting the business and moving away to some place far away.

And on and on it’d go inside my head.

It was around this time that a friend asked, "Hey, imma go surf tomorrow. You wanna come with?" I was at a point where I couldn’t care less what I do or where I go so I said yes and simply followed. We arrived first at a house near the beach and I was introduced to the person staying there.

"This is Takuya. He's a friend of mine."

"Aite. Well, I've got kids runnin' 'round so if you don’t mind, could you go change o'er there?"

I didn’t think I was going to have to get into the water myself but before I could say anything about it, the other guy said, "This your first time, innit? If you head to the kitchen, you’ll find three long boards propped against the wall. Just grab the one you like."

I didn’t have to prepare anything at all. All the things I’d always though I’d needed. None of it.

All this time, I’d thought that in order to paint a picture, I have to have all the tools ready, from the paint to the brush to water to the palette to the canvas. But here, I was basically being told to grab a crayon and then just draw whatever I like.  This was an all-new world to me. One that I found I could really get used to.

Now, whenever I’m at the beach and see people going into the sea with surfboards, I’d get so excited my heart would feel like it’s ready to burst out of my chest, and I’d think to myself, "Whoooa, they’re gonna go for it!" It doesn’t even matter anymore even when it’s cold. It’s just that awesome. I’m having the time of life yet at the same time, I’m fearing for it. There’s always a sober part of me who’d consider what I’ve got lined up the next day and the consequences if I were to hit my head or get into some other sort of accident. And I did get into all sorts of mishaps. Even as I’m writing this, my right leg is hurting like a bitch no thanks to my wiping out yesterday and my leg collided straight on with the underfins of the board I was using. It shocked the breath out of me and I actually sunk like a stone for a bit.

But the pros far outweigh the cons. It’s fun seeing the faces of those I surf with and also those of people who are around us. The feeling of exhaustion upon coming out from the water is also good. It’s proof that I gave it my all and the food that I consume after tastes especially good. After getting out of the water and away from the beach, we’d walk on asphalt on our bare naked feet. As we walked along, the smell of dinner would come wafting. It’s the kind of smell that reminds me of childhood. My buds and I would say to one another, "Mmm…smells like dinner."

"Yeah…smells awesome!"

The kind of feeling invoked in me is exactly the same as when I was a kid. The white rice tasted so good, I had three bowls of it last night. My buds actually eat healthier than I thought they do. They all seemed to really like braised dishes and miso soup. The pure stuff like banana and milk were also really good. The sour taste of the tangerines became sweet to our salt-laden tongues. Of course, we didn‘t forget to collect all our trash--the banana and tangerine peels-- into a bag to take along with us when we left. I didn't notice anyone tossing their empty can on the ground. Even the sort you’d think have got to be goons of some sort were merely walking their dogs and chatting with middle-aged ladies out for their evening walks in a friendly way. Maybe they were feeling relaxed enough to let their guards down a bit.

For me, the turmoil I felt inside had definitely calmed. Whether it be personal or work-related, nothing could disturb this quiet place I’m now in. In the sea, everyone is in their wet or bathing suit, and everyone gets their hair wet. Whether a person is rich or poor does not factor. And whether or not a person is able to successfully catch a wave is entirely dependent on themselves. The rules are exceedingly simple. Anyone able to ride a wave would suddenly find themselves being a kid again. Noone is above the overwhelming force of nature. These waves that are tossing me around like some kind of rag doll are the same ones that always seem so harmless from the safety of the shore. And I’m reminded how insignificant I really am.

My place is currently pretty plain with nothing much in the way of décor. The walls were so bare at first, it’s almost sad. So I thought I could make something to adorn it with. It’s not going to be anything so high brow as to be considered a piece of artwork, mind.

First, I asked a friend to help me procure a plank made from a century-old tree. When it arrived, I had a tough time transporting it home as it measured around 2 meters in length and 1 meter in width. Both ends ended up sticking out of the windows of my car. When I got it inside, I leaned it against the wall and temporarily placed another long piece of wood across to form something like a Torii. Simply placing a piece of wood straight across seemed boring somehow so I positioned it with a slight slant instead. I've already got a hammer and all the other tools I may need. The nails were the usual sort made of iron that’s shaped like a hook.  After installing them into the wood, I started hanging stuff like the cowboy hat and lasso I got during my short excursion in Colorado and this ceremonial vest for tribesmen I had. Other stuff I hung up were these super worn denim shirt and jeans I’ve had for years. The result actually turned out pretty nice.

What I really wanted to do was to install them straight into the walls but my apartment unit is a rented one and I can already imagine what my old man would say if I were to ruin the walls without permission.

“The hell...? You bloody daft or what?!”

Pop works in interior design so he’s real fussy when it comes to things like building materials and wallpapers. He has zero inhibition when it comes to openly criticizing anything he doesn’t agree with, even if it’s in front of the people who designed it. He both paints and sketches and even as a kid, I always knew that I could never surpass him in that domain. I couldn't even begin to compete.

I’ve always loved the things pop drew. In fact, he taught me all the basics: how to hold the pencil, how to draw steady lines, how to properly smudge when sketching, etc. For example, when lightly drawing over lines multiple times, it‘s always better to hold the higher side of pencil. He’d watch from the side and if I did it wrong, he’d tell me, “No, not like that.” Back then, I didn’t ask any questions and simply followed.

I went to art classes from pre-school up to 3rd grade so as a kid, there was plenty of opportunity for me to draw. But more than wanting to draw, I kept going to those classes because I liked the teacher a lot. He was an old man whose hair had already gone all white. I loved the beagle he drew for me and kept it for a long time. On days we drew still life, if they happen to be fruit, he would peel the skin at the end of class and offer them to us. I remember being particularly overjoyed when they were apples.

These days, when I draw, I like to use a box of 18-color crayons. Red depletes the fastest. I’m not a fan of oil paint because it tends to cover up the pencil lines. The feeling of tension is less that way so it doesn't excite me as much.

Come to think of it, there was a time when I kept feeling this intense need to draw. There was this night I couldn't fall asleep and stayed up until dawn just drawing a bunch of eyes. As I kept at it, mind empty, each one I drew came closer and closer to being something that I liked. It was only after I stopped that I noticed that my hands were almost completely black and the crows were already crowing outside. My eyelids felt heavy but I felt refreshed and light.

I think I somehow get it when people say that they like to make things because thinking about what it is that I like, I realize that it’s the same for me. Even for work, I find that I really enjoy the process of it. Even the kanji for tsukuru, I prefer using “造る” over the more commonly used “作る" because it gives off a stronger sense of something unfolding.

Right now, whatever I’m doing always somehow has something to do with work. As much as I enjoy it though, I really do wish I had the opportunity to do something that’s completely unrelated to it. To do that, I would need to completely remove myself from where I am now and go to some place I’ve been wanting to go...say, for example, Bali. When the chance arises, two things I will definitely bring with me would be a camera and a box of crayons.

One day, I’d like to hold an exhibition where I can put the things that I drew, photos that I took and objects I made on display. If people visiting see something they like and wish to purchase it, they can. The proceeds can then be sent to welfare associations who are working on rebuilding towns ruined by disasters. When I get a chance to do that, it'd probably be nerve-wracking but I’m sure there’d also be a lot of invaluable experience to be gained from it.

As a kid, I wasn't able to read musical notes but I loved music. I even used to play the trumpet for the brass band I was a part of back in elementary school. My lips were always swollen from blowing into the mouthpiece but I never complained about it. When there was a song test, I was always very serious about it. As a result, my scores for music class were usually decent.

Back then, I really loved anime and cartoon theme songs. I did not own a cassette player so when I was trying to record the theme song for “The Wonderful Adventures of Nils,” I had to basically wait for the cartoon to come on and then hold a tape recorder to the TV speaker. But ma had to choose that time to turn on the vacuum cleaner so during the chorus you can hear it squealing “Goooooooooo~~!” in the background.

The record player we had was the type that was shaped like a ladybird. When cassette players were all the rage, I wanted one really badly. It became worse when the Walkman™ became popular. It looked so cool, I could stare longingly at it all day. In the end, I didn‘t own a cassette player until I was well into my second year of middle school. People probably had already moved on to the next big thing by then.

What really pissed me off was the notion of CDs. A friend brought one to school and handed it over to me saying, “Here, I’ll let you borrow it.” I told him thanks and brought it home. I wasn't about to tell him I didn’t own a CD player. I returned it to him the next day without listening to it. I pretended like hell that I did, though.

“This was pretty good. I especially like the 3rd track—that ballad.”

“Huh? But the 3rd track is a fast song. “

...it was an awkward moment.

I started playing the guitar in high school. The girl I liked back then loaned me her Skid Row CD, telling me how much she enjoyed it. I really liked the track titled, “I Remember You,” and wanted badly to be able to play it myself and get this girl to listen to it. Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t going out or anything like that. It was entirely one-sided on my part.

So I practiced like my life depended on it and the day finally came for when I thought it’s time I play it to her over the phone. At first, I played her the CD. Then I gradually lowered the volume and continued the song on my guitar. When I stopped, she was surprised and asked me why the music stopped. It was then that I told her it was actually me playing the last bit, which came as a surprise to her. The fact that she couldn’t tell the difference made me happy.

That was my very first cover, and the reason I started playing the guitar. I don’t play covers over the phone as often as I used to anymore but I do still play them with friends when we come across songs we wanted to learn and practice playing together.

These days, I only want to listen to stuff I think is really good, like music that sound like the people playing it truly enjoy or the kind that the musicians behind them really feel. I also listen to a lot of Japanese music whose lyrics strike a chord in me.

I think the way I see things, or rather the way I feel them, is pretty close to those who make music. You’d think it'd be closer to actors but there’s a subtle difference. When talking to musicians especially, I always get this feeling as though  we are coming from the same place.

But acting and music may not be so different after all.  They’re both things that come from within. Where music has rhythm, in acting, there are intervals. With music, there are lyrics while in acting, there are lines. As for instruments, we’ve got the actors themselves...

I’ve always thought it’d be interesting if, during a SMAP concert tour, each member of SMAP would take turns holding solo concerts. When it comes my turn, my stage would be the sort where anything goes. I’d dance if I felt like dancing and if I wanted people to listen, I’d tell them to lend me their ears. And I’ve been giving serious thought to not putting any seats in the stands. Everyone would be required to stand and drinks will be provided, just like they are for us, as everyone needs to replenish water into their bodies. And if anyone feels like they wanted to dance on stage, they are more than welcome to come up and we’ll dance our hearts out together. And you know how the kind of MC that we do now is basically one-sided? I kind of also want to chat with the audience on a field that’s more level. I guess what I’m saying is I want to get closer to the audience. I really want to hold a concert like that someday.

Whenever I see something I think is pretty or cool, I’d want to take a picture of it. It could be anything, a bike, a car, a girl.  If I see someone and think they’ve got a great shape, the next thing I’d want to do would inevitably be to take a picture. It doesn’t matter whether I’m slap bang in the middle of Tokyo or somewhere I’m completely unfamiliar with. When I have a camera in hand, my walking speed would most likely be a lot slower than usual as I’d be hunting for subjects to take pictures of.

When we went to London recently, I took with me the Polaroid camera I bought some time back. Seeing me with it, Tsuyoshi took a keen interest and asked to take pictures with it as well. It was then I realized I haven’t had a single shot of myself taken the whole time I’ve been there so I asked him to take one of me as well. Because I was dressed all in black that day, we decided to take a slightly underexposed picture of me standing in front of this warehouse that was painted entirely in black. We thought it’d be interesting to make it seem like just my head down to the V-line of my chest that was exposed by my shirt was floating in the air. So after deciding on a position and focus, I handed the camera over to Tsuyoshi. Flipping over the developed picture that slid out, Tsuyoshi exclaimed as he laughed, “Whoa, that turned out pretty good, innit?”

From there, Tsuyoshi only became more and more enamored with the camera so I figured I’d get him the same one, seeing as his birthday was right around the corner. Upon getting back to Japan, I went around and all over places like Shibuya and Shinjuku looking for it but turns out, that particular model is no longer being produced nor is it available in the market. Hearing that it can still be found in New York, I asked someone I know who is there for help. The hunt is still ongoing as we speak.

If asked when I first took up the hobby, I’d have to say...probably some time back during when I was in high school. I became interested after I joined the industry and having pictures of myself taken became a regular occurrence. It’s also after I took up acting that I developed a more keen interest in watching stage performances and movies.

I still have the pictures I took back then and whenever I look at them, I cringe at how bad they are. Little by little, I’ve learned more proper techniques since but it wasn‘t through being taught by someone or anything like that. From taking polaroids, you’ll learn that if proper steps weren’t taken, the pictures you flip over would simply either turn out black or white. Whether or not you did it right, the answer becomes apparent after a minute or so. I can only really learn by feeling my way around like this.

Since I started taking photos myself, I may have become better able to understand what it’s like for a professional photographer.  It’s more or less like with acting, where in order to create a good scene, it’s not just my own lines I need to know but also what the people you are sharing the scene with may be feeling as well. And when I’m able to grasp exactly what the cameraman is going for, it really gets me going and I get really into it.

The pictures that parents take of their children are the ones that are taken at the closest proximity and also the ones that take the longest time. I think this is one of the most precious things parents can do for their kids. After all, these pictures are all the children have to go on as memories of the time before they were able to develop their own.

My own folks took a lot of pictures of me as a kid. I really do think the pictures of children as newborns are some of the most precious things they can have. I won’t say it’s exactly like those relationship charts you see for characters in dramas but it can get kind of close as you get a better feel of the personal relationships that existed when the picture was taken. You can see them very clearly from who’s in the picture with you and the expression you had on your own face as an infant. For example, if the baby version of you happened to be beaming in the picture, it feels almost like the memories of what you felt back then are somehow also being brought back.

Right now, pictures taken by children from their own perspective are also very interesting to me. Like, imagine giving a camera to a kid who’s around 4 or 5. That’s usually when they’re old enough to speak and tell right from wrong. After handing over the camera, we then tell them to take whatever pictures they want for the entire day. It will pretty much become a picture diary of their day. And when, as parents, we ask them to show us the pictures they’ve taken, we’d be able to see exactly what they saw and perhaps even tell where they saw it. And if you happen to see yourself in some of them, imagine how awesome it’d feel.

When thinking about things that are curious, what I find strangest is the fact that I’m doing what I do at my age.  It’s not just my job but people also seem to want to know things like what I do outside of it, what my thoughts are and even my personal relationships. It just feels really strange to me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to know that people care enough to be curious. But much as I’m grateful for the interest people have in me, it's hard to ignore the fact that there are types that are welcome and types that aren‘t.

Just recently, a friend of mine threw a BBQ party at this beach in Shonan. I did some snorkeling with friends and later helped slice up some fish for the barbecue pit. I was standing right next to this ultra thick iron plate they were using to grill meat. It was sizzling away so it was hot as hell.  I was sweating like a pig but damn, did it feel good. That day at the beach was one of the best I’ve ever had. On that day, there wasn’t a single instance where I felt I had to make things up, or a single moment that I regretted. All I did that day was laugh and chat and think about a bunch of things.

You see, there's always a part of me who can't help but care about what others think of my actions and their reaction towards them, and because of that, there are times where I end up doing things simply for the sake of keeping appearances. On that day, though, things like that didn't cross my mind at all. The day was such a good one, I wasn't sure if I just dreamed it all up.

At the end of the party, we let off some fireworks. As my friend casually lit the fuse of the big main event one (the kind that we send shooting into the sky) with the cigarette he was lazily taking drags from, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Cheers for a rad summer!” and everyone watched as it shot up to the heavens and burst into a wide array of patterns. The line was cheesy af, sure, but not a single one of the 20-odd people there that night thought so. If anything, we were all thinking what a good thing to say it was and how refreshing it was to hear it.

When the day (August 30) ended, so did my summer this year. It was something I clearly felt.

You know how we tend to feel a little blue when something good comes to an end? lt probably isn't limited to summer. But it’s during this time that we start psyching ourselves to renew our effort in work or study. So even though we may feel a bit sad, we also feel a kind of drive to push forward. It was around this time when a fan who was hanging around a film location handed me a magazine. To kill time while soaking in the bathtub, I flipped through it and stopped when I came across an article with the title, “6 Ways of Living We Can Learn From Native Americans .” It’s full of text but I figured, “Why not?” and started reading.

It offers guileless advice like, ”It's not the result that counts, but the process," "The reason we have worries is because we are too caught up in ourselves," “How to live a life where you can simply say “No”,” etc. It’s all very simply put, but so matter-of-fact that it makes you think.  All the things mentioned are what I’ve always wished I could be like but could never really pull off.

I have no intention of walling myself off from others but I’m living apart from my folks and there are some things you just can’t discuss with friends. So right now, I don’t really have anyone around me who would tell me things I need to hear. And it felt like this article was doing just that.  Whenever I think of this article and its content, it makes me feel like I can just casually do the things I want.

This is embarrassing to admit for someone my age but it’s thanks to this magazine article that I finally felt like I wanted to take up reading more. For starters, I’m definitely going to get my hands on the books featured as recommended reads in the magazine.  It’s real strange because books and me don’t really mix. Unless you count porn mags, I haven’t really touched anything resembling a book of my own volition in years.

All these things that are strange to me. The awesome time spent at the beach. The amazing timing of having stumbled across that magazine article about Native American philosophy. And then there’s this buddy of mine who finally returned from overseas. Maybe I've paid my dues with this recent awful experience I had but I’ve only been experiencing mostly good things after.  I dunno but everything just seems to be rolling smoothly forward since. I guess it could simply be my subconscious that's driving me forward. But whether it be that or luck, I’m just gonna count myself lucky. Because I was fortunate enough to come across various strange but lucky things.

If I hadn’t chosen to walk the path I did, what would I have become? I ask myself this sometimes. I reckon that even if I’m not doing this work I am now, I likely still wouldn’t have gone university. I’d probably have found a job right after graduating high school. Maybe it’d have something to do with creating clothes or it might have been something related to animal care. It‘s hard to narrow it down to just one since I have a wide array of interests. Even back as a kid, I’d always thought of wanting to quickly enter the workforce.

Why, then, have I been able to keep doing this work that I’m doing? I ask myself this a lot, too. If I had to pick one, I’d say being able come across people and things that leave an extremely deep impression is the most likely reason. Back when I was still in high school, it was the stage play Modoken. After I’ve graduated, it was the drama Asunaro Hakusho. These two had a huge impact on me. Of course, this is only something that dawned on me when looking back. When I was actually doing them, I had absolutely no idea that they would have as big an impact on my life as they did. It‘s the same even now. When I’m in the middle of a production, all I would think about is how I could contribute in making it something good, even if it’s only a little bit, nothing more and nothing less.

Back during the days of Asunaro Hakusho, I was really just a regular young dude. On set, I was the serious, glass-toting, Toride-kun but the moment my work is done for the day and I can leave the set, I’d be off to have fun with friends. In fact, I was probably more invested in that than I was with work.

Even after Asunaro, there were a ton of experiences and encounters in new jobs. I’d discover new feelings when acting and find a lot to be fascinated about when seeing how others come together to create something.  I’d get elated with every new stimulation and before I knew it, I’m where I am now. So, even if this may come as a bit of a surprise to some, the whole reason I am able to invest myself into the work I do and am able to say with confidence that I want to keep doing it for as long as I can isn‘t something that came from within myself, but from both the things and people I see around me. Thinking back on it now, it’s undeniable that these are what kept me going.

I’m not even aware of when it happened, but I’ve stopped thinking about my initial dreams of creating clothes and taking care of animals. They may not be what I ended up doing for a living, but I have absolutely no regrets about how things turned out. No one made me choose this path. I chose to keep walking it myself.

I’d be lying if I said there weren’t other things that I wanted to do but never got to. But I’m speaking the truth when I say that I do not harbor any if only kind of feelings about it. Because if I really wanted to, I could still do them. It’s all about how badly I want to do them and how long I’m able to keep that feeling burning inside. I really do think this time in which we spend wanting to do something is absolutely necessary. Because if a person can‘t do what they want due to circumstances like injury or the time simply not being right, it is during this time that they don’t give up on the desire and calmly put it on the back burner to be made into reality another day. It's only when this desire is kept alive within, that it can actually happen someday.

I don’t want to apply the feeling of “if” to the future either. “If this happens in the future...” is just not the line of thinking I prefer to have. It makes me feel that the person thinking it actually doesn't believe it would happen. I believe it’s more important to focus on what’s real and look towards the future, both near and far, to see what can be seen from where we are actually standing. This is actually easier said than done, however, and if you get sucked into a vortex, you’ll end up not being able to visualize anything at all. If we’re only talking about vision in the physical sense, though, I’m so confident about mine I’m certain it’s almost 4.0.

Once we’ve ascertained where we are and move decisively from there, we’ll cease thinking about the future in terms of “if” and only think of it in terms of “when.” The fear can be overwhelming, yes, but even so, I just want to keep moving forward. Because the alternative is to keep going around in passive circles, and I fear that even more. Even if there may not be a need to push myself too far, I feel doing that suits me more than the opposite.