Today I am inspired by one of my favorite animes, Inuyasha. The girl with the black hair is named Rin, and the silver haired demon next to her is Sesshomaru. Something about this picture represents a warm innocence and lighting that I really really like, and the nostalgia hits me hard since Inuyasha was a show I watched when I was young, and all throughout my middle and high school years. Rin was my favorite character, a young human girl who knows monsters from humans – and it isn’t particularly in the looks. The nature of monsters and humans is a theme long explored since Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. None other than Rin understands this best as she grew up living in a world of monsters – in fact, these “humans” who abused her, left her to die. It was the salvation of Sesshomaru’s Tenseiga who revived her, a truly fearsome demon with one of the best character development of all anime. The notion that sometimes, humans are the true demons in this world.
On a side note, I’ve been super emotional listening to Kikyo’s Death OSTs. Another amazing character who is deserving of all the praise for her strength and tragedy. The death scene always, always makes me cry – Kaede’s tears, Inuyasha’s kiss, and Kikyo’s warmth as her soul ascends into the cosmos.
One day I will rewatch Inuyasha, at the very least Final Act series. What a fountain of sheer nostalgia. ❤
Letting go is a form of catharsis I have a hard time with. It’s contradictory: it’s freeing, and then hollow at the same time. The sorrow of losing sometimes is heavier on some days, but I put trust and faith into my steps and walk towards tomorrow.
It teaches me to cherish something or someone while they are still there. To know that nothing lasts forever, or at least most things, and that the beauty of the human heart is ever so fleeting. It is like listening to a song filled with emotions: its riveting, broken chords woven into a comprehensible and beautiful melody. The little moments that build the full composition that is art. To be appreciated whether by note or holistically. The piece doesn’t last long, and a part of me may wonder if it is worth searching for the name of the song, and its soul. Instead, some are left to be only enjoyed in that moment, and while I desperately want to know, the greater part of me lays still, alone on my bed, with my back turned against it. As thoughts pervade my mind and heart, my better judgement roots me there, and all I can do is appreciate it. Able and unable to move.
So I let go, of all convictions that would otherwise motivate me to seek it out, and I simply enjoy the time I have left. The final broken chord represents the dissipating emotions, and there I lay in a forgetful shroud that blankets me and consumes these memories. I don’t remember many of these songs, and while they don’t resound so clearly and beautifully anymore, the pain of forgetting is always softened by time, ironically. The Eraser of Memories itself.