Why We Did It

I've always believed that asking 'why' is how we dig deeper into anything we love, whether it's anime, books, or games. Take 'Attack on Titan' for example—it’s not just about cool action scenes. The story makes you question humanity, freedom, and sacrifice. That’s why it sticks with people long after they finish watching. Same with 'Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood'. The themes of equivalent exchange and brotherhood aren’t just plot devices; they make you reflect on real-life values.

When I read 'The Song of Achilles', I didn’t just enjoy the romance—I thought about how love and glory clash, and why we root for certain characters. That’s the magic of stories that make you ask 'why'. They don’t just entertain; they linger in your mind, making you see things differently.

The magic sun in the direction of "Sword Art Online" fell upon me most vividly. In those precious years when I was still an avid MMO player, this concept hit home. VRMMORPG is half real world and half artificial. The way that only the humanity of crystallized into digitized form could serve as a pattern for me to realize this kind of society. The relationship between Kirito and Asuna and concept of 'time' in Aincrad interested me so much on the one hand because it was comprehensive, but also gave pause for thought at other times. The story told did pull me out of how fascinated we are by our information age some times.

anime, and games, I’ve come to see the question of why we’re here as something that resonates deeply with the themes explored in fiction. Take 'Neon Genesis Evangelion', for example. It’s not just a mecha anime; it’s a profound exploration of human existence, loneliness, and the search for meaning. The way it delves into the psyche of its characters, especially Shinji, mirrors our own struggles with purpose. The show doesn’t offer easy answers, but it forces you to confront the messy, beautiful complexity of being alive. That’s what makes it so timeless.

Another angle comes from 'The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy', where the answer to the ultimate question of life is famously 42. It’s a humorous take, but beneath the absurdity lies a sharp commentary on how humans obsess over meaning. We crave explanations, but sometimes the universe doesn’t owe us one. The book’s irreverence is a reminder not to take ourselves too seriously. After all, if we’re here to enjoy the ride, then stories like this—full of wit and wonder—are part of what makes the journey worthwhile.

On a more personal note, I’ve always found solace in stories like 'To Your Eternity', where the immortal being Fushi learns about humanity through connection and loss. It’s a poignant reminder that our purpose might not be some grand cosmic design, but the small, everyday moments we share with others. Whether it’s through laughter, tears, or simply being there, these interactions give life its weight. That’s why I keep returning to these narratives—they help me make sense of the chaos, one story at a time.

Reading has always been my escape, my way of living a thousand lives without ever leaving my room. It’s not just about the stories; it’s about the emotions, the lessons, and the connections we forge with characters who feel as real as the people around us. When I dive into a book like 'The Alchemist' by Paulo Coelho, I’m not just reading—I’m on a journey of self-discovery, learning to listen to my heart and follow my dreams.

Books like 'The Midnight Library' by Matt Haig remind me that every choice matters, and even the smallest decisions can alter the course of our lives. Reading expands my empathy, allowing me to step into someone else’s shoes and see the world through their eyes. Whether it’s the raw honesty of 'The Bell Jar' by Sylvia Plath or the whimsical charm of 'Howl’s Moving Castle' by Diana Wynne Jones, each book leaves a mark on my soul, shaping who I am and who I aspire to be.