A choice is made, and we follow the droplet of water until it reaches the puddle.
The point upon which all of this hinges is: humans are not built to be idols.
Konosuba was oft-categorized as “mean” during its airing, but I saw a fundamentally kind-hearted show at its core.
Where do we see ourselves as we watch anime?
We are always starting down our pasts when we look to our futures. There is no past that vanishes once it becomes a memory—stories last forever until forgotten, and the stories we don’t forget will last forever. Swallow down your memory, reject a past. An end, a beginning.
All you can do is make the choice to move forward.
It’s never explicitly stated, but at the end of Glasslip, at the conclusion to a brief and fitful summer, Kakeru Okikua leaves town to continue accompanying his famous piano mother as she tours the world… just as he has always done. Behind him, things have changed forever in the group of friends. It’s a momentary glimmer, but the effects will live on long after the sparkle has faded.
Glasslip is a reflection on the nature of time. It is about the impermanence of life, about the transience of our temporal existences, about the significance of these fleeting events of the past we call memory.
Could you be an arbiter?
“Where am I? Who am I?”
“You’re an arbiter, made to judge the souls of human beings. The game you will use? One known as life, capable of revealing the greatest darknesses and greatest glories of the human spirit.”
Allow me to suggest that we all possess, in varying degrees, a desire to be an arbiter of the people who surround us. That there is an inhuman, unsympathizing Decim within each of us who seeks to judge—fairly or not—on the basis of our unavoidably limited experiences with other individuals. Yet, fortunately, we all also possess the capacity to emulate Chiyuki and her desire to reach out and understand the humans who are at once laughably simple and impossibly complex.