“Who am I?”
I’ve been asking myself that question for years, and I still don’t have an answer.
I make impulsive purchases. My connection to Jōdo Shinshū Buddhism began simply because I was born into it. Even my current work—creating Dharma talks with AI—started because a teacher told me, “Why not give it a try?” Before I knew it, I was doing it regularly.
So no, I can’t really say I’ve lived with strong intention or agency. I’ve drifted through life like a jellyfish—soft, aimless, floating.
In online games, I’ve expressed many versions of the self I wished I could be. A knight, a priest, a master machinist... I could become anything, again and again. Maybe it was just escapism, chasing illusions. But within those dreams, I think I was searching for the outline of “me.”
In the end, I keep saying “me, me, me.” I crave recognition—like asking someone to paint my portrait. Even as a former monk who encourages introspection, I might just be preaching empty words, spinning hollow theories.
And yet—
Even when drifting, time still moves forward.
And within that time, I continue to leave behind words.
I don’t know if my words have meaning. But as proof that I lived through “jellyfish time,” I’m here again today, gently arranging letters as I float.
日本語版note：クラゲ日記──ふわふわしてても時間は生きてる
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