Cycle I: Coming on Strong
The Hidden Voice
Record ~ Kawaii · 08 (v1.00)
THE HOUSE OF ZAN — Zan
♡ Wednesday Campanella — Butterfly
OPENING: 一つの枠に収まらなきゃダメ？
I have a question!
Actually, I have several.
They keep multiplying.
I started with one perfectly reasonable question, and now there are so many that I’m beginning to wonder whether somebody has been feeding them after midnight.
Stop that!
We have enough questions already!
૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
Unfortunately, they aren’t listening.
Questions can be terribly inconsiderate.
Especially the ones that begin with what.
What happened?
What happens next?
What if I’d done something differently?
What if somebody thinks something terrible about me?
What if they’re right?
…
Excuse me?
Who invited that last one?
I was having a perfectly nice day.
And now I’m apparently supposed to investigate everything I’ve ever said, everything I might say, and whether any of it means I’m secretly a different person from the one I thought I was.
How exhausting!
Perhaps I should make a list.
I’m quite good at lists.
They make everything look so organized.
Even when the things on them are absolutely ridiculous.
Let’s see.
What was.
What is.
The past and right now.
Those should be easy to tell apart.
Except there’s a problem.
What happened before isn’t necessarily what matters now.
Suppose I announce that I absolutely despise something.
I’m very convincing.
I have reasons!
A whole speech’s worth!
I might even deliver it.
Then, sometime later, I try it again.
And I like it.
…
Oh, no.
This is a disaster.
Not because I’ve discovered something enjoyable.
That’s wonderful!
But because now I have to explain myself to everybody who remembers my magnificent speech.
Didn’t you say you hated that?
Yes.
But now you like it?
Apparently.
So you were wrong?
…
Could we please discuss something else?
(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)
I’d rather not revisit my entire history of questionable declarations.
Some of them were made under extremely difficult circumstances.
Like being younger.
Or hungry.
Or absolutely convinced I knew everything.
Very difficult circumstances!
But if I disliked something before and enjoy it now, does that mean I was pretending?
Not necessarily.
I may have changed, or the circumstances may be different. I might also understand it better than I did then.
That doesn’t automatically make the person I used to be a liar.
I can remember what I thought then without being required to think it forever.
Which seems perfectly reasonable.
Until somebody insists that the old version of me is the real one.
Outdated information!
Please update your records!
I’ve made several improvements since then.
I’ve also developed a few new problems.
But we don’t need to discuss those.
Not yet.
Because there’s another pair of questions causing trouble.
What happens before.
What happens after.
Oh, these are particularly annoying.
They sound like they should fit together nicely.
First something happens.
Then something else happens.
Simple!
Except sometimes the thing that happens before is entirely inside your head.
Imagine you’ve chosen a joke, arranged the words carefully, and decided everybody will appreciate your extraordinary wit.
Naturally.
Then you say it.
And somebody looks at you.
Not smiling.
Not laughing.
Just looking.
…
Oh.
That’s interesting.
What does that expression mean?
Did they understand the joke?
Was it terrible?
Do they think I’m ridiculous?
Should I explain?
Would explaining make everything worse?
WHY IS EVERYBODY SO QUIET?!
(((；ﾟДﾟ)))
…
Perhaps they’re simply thinking.
People are allowed to think.
Although I wish they’d provide some indication of what they’re thinking when I’m beginning to panic about an expression I might have imagined.
A little sign would be helpful.
Processing.
Please remain calm.
Your joke has not yet been evaluated.
Wonderful!
I’d appreciate that.
But there’s something peculiar about what happened.
Before I spoke, I knew exactly how the conversation was going to unfold.
At least, I thought I did.
Afterward, I wasn’t even certain what had happened.
The joke took ten seconds.
The investigation could occupy an entire afternoon.
Congratulations!
You’ve successfully turned one ordinary interaction into a full-length production.
Featuring:
A misunderstanding!
Several imaginary reactions!
And a surprise appearance by every embarrassing memory you’ve ever had!
Tickets are unavailable.
Unfortunately, the performance is already taking place inside your head.
And apparently there are no refunds.
How rude.
But I wonder how much of that performance has anything to do with reality.
Because I might be reacting to answers somebody never gave.
I could even be having an argument with somebody who doesn’t know we’re arguing.
By the time I finish that argument, I may have forgotten to find out what actually happened.
Now, before I get completely distracted, there’s another pair.
What might be.
What will be.
Oh, I like the first one!
What might be sounds exciting.
It’s full of possibilities.
I could discover a new interest or meet somebody I’d like to know better.
I could even have an idea so peculiar that I’d surprise myself.
Entirely possible!
Please don’t look so skeptical.
But what will be sounds much more serious.
Almost as though I’m supposed to know the ending before I’ve reached it.
And I don’t.
Which is unfortunate.
Because I’d really like to know whether some of my decisions are going to work out.
Not all of them.
I enjoy a little mystery.
But perhaps somebody could provide a preview of the important ones.
Just a few helpful details.
This decision will be excellent.
That one will be embarrassing.
And whatever you’re planning for Thursday?
Absolutely not.
Perfect!
I’d be unstoppable.
Although I suppose there’s a problem with that, too.
If I knew every outcome, would I still make the same choices?
Or would I become so busy avoiding anything embarrassing that I stopped trying things I couldn’t predict?
Hmm.
I don’t particularly like that possibility.
Because there are things I want to experience precisely because I don’t know what they’ll be like.
A new place.
An unfamiliar idea.
Somebody whose company might turn out to be wonderful.
Or terrible.
Or simply different from what I expected.
I’d like to try it. I’d also like to know beforehand whether I’ll regret it.
I can look forward to tomorrow without knowing whether it will go the way I hope.
If it doesn’t, I’ll have to deal with it then.
Not before.
I’ve already spent enough time being disappointed by imaginary Thursdays.
But there’s something that bothers me more than not knowing the future.
It’s believing I know something that I don’t.
Which brings me to the final pair.
What is known.
What is assumed.
Oh.
These two are troublemakers.
They look so similar when you’re not paying attention.
Suppose somebody meets me for the first time.
I get enthusiastic about an idea.
I have those!
Lots of them.
And somebody decides I’m a confident person.
Correct!
But somebody else hears the same conversation and decides I’m showing off.
…
Excuse me?
That wasn’t on the list of approved interpretations.
Could we revise it?
Perhaps they think I’m too loud.
Too opinionated.
Too eager.
Meanwhile, another person might decide I’m charming.
Or entertaining.
Or the most fascinating person they’ve met all afternoon.
Now I’m curious about that last person.
I’d like to know what they enjoyed.
But here’s the problem.
I haven’t changed between those opinions.
I’m still the person who said whatever I said.
Yet somehow, I’m now several different things depending on who’s describing me.
But perhaps those opinions aren’t all describing the same thing.
One person may have noticed my enthusiasm.
Another may have disliked how I expressed it.
And somebody else may have enjoyed the whole conversation.
They might all have experienced something different.
That doesn’t mean they all know who I am.
Although I should probably remember that when I’m making judgments about somebody else.
Because I’m perfectly capable of making assumptions, too.
I can meet somebody who doesn’t say very much and decide they’re shy.
Maybe they are.
Or maybe they’re tired.
Perhaps they aren’t interested in the conversation.
Or perhaps they’re thinking about something entirely different.
I don’t know.
But I could easily decide I do.
And then treat them as though my guess were a fact.
…
Oh.
That’s a little embarrassing.
I was enjoying being the person everybody else was misunderstanding.
Now it appears I might be part of the problem.
I don’t particularly appreciate that development.
Still, there’s a difference between noticing something and knowing what it means.
I can notice that somebody isn’t talking.
I can’t know why without more information.
I can notice that somebody didn’t enjoy my joke.
I can’t automatically know what they think of me because of it.
And I can notice that somebody has formed an opinion about me without treating that opinion as a complete description of who I am.
That’s useful.
Especially because I can be rather quick to judge myself.
If I make a mistake, perhaps I’m foolish.
If I change my mind, perhaps I’m inconsistent.
If somebody dislikes me, perhaps I’m unpleasant.
If something doesn’t happen the way I hoped, perhaps I was ridiculous for expecting it.
Wait!
Who made these rules?
I’d like to see them.
Preferably before I’m expected to follow them.
Because that’s an awful lot of judgment to attach to a few moments.
And some of those moments haven’t even happened yet!
Imagine being disappointed in yourself over something you’re only worried you might do.
You’ve managed to get ahead of the future and criticize yourself before it arrives.
My imagination could be doing something I actually enjoy.
Like designing a particularly elaborate hat.
Something with stars!
And little moving planets!
…
Actually, that sounds wonderful.
I’d wear it immediately.
(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
Although somebody would probably have an opinion.
Too much.
Too strange.
Too childish.
Not appropriate.
Whatever!
¯(ツ)/¯
Oh.
There it is.
That word.
I’ve been looking for it.
Whatever.
I can use it when I’m tired of explaining myself or arguing about somebody’s opinion.
Whatever!
Very satisfying.
I might still care. I just don’t want to talk about it.
I can also use it to avoid finding out whether I’m wrong.
Whatever!
There.
Problem solved.
…
Except it isn’t.
If somebody tells me I’ve misunderstood them, whatever doesn’t make my assumption correct.
If I make a mistake, whatever doesn’t fix it.
And if I genuinely want to know why something happened, pretending not to care won’t give me the answer.
Still, I think the word has its uses.
Some opinions deserve consideration.
Some misunderstandings deserve explanations.
And some judgments don’t deserve another minute of my afternoon.
Especially when nobody actually knows what they’re talking about.
Including me!
Yes, yes.
I heard myself.
No need to look so pleased.
After all that, I’m still left with one question.
What am I now?
…
Oh.
That’s a good question.
A rather difficult one, actually.
Because I could tell you what I know about myself.
What I like.
What I want.
What I’ve experienced.
I could even tell you what I think I might become.
But I’m not sure those answers would explain everything.
Some things have changed.
Some things haven’t.
Some things I understand better than I did before.
And some things I’m probably still completely wrong about.
How embarrassing.
I’d prefer not to discover the last category all at once.
Perhaps a gradual announcement would be kinder.
But here’s what bothers me.
What if I give you an answer now and change my mind tomorrow?
Will tomorrow’s answer make today’s answer wrong?
Or will I simply have something else to tell you?
I don’t know.
And I rather suspect the answer depends on what we’re talking about.
Which is inconvenient.
I was hoping for a description I wouldn’t have to revise.
But I don’t want to be held to one after I’ve changed my mind.
I suppose I could say whatever and stop thinking about it.
But I don’t actually want to.
Not yet.
I want to know what I am now.
Even if I’ll have something different to tell you tomorrow.
Unfortunately, I don’t seem to have a complete answer.
I have a few possibilities.
Several opinions.
An increasingly suspicious list.
And a magnificent idea for a hat.
The one with the planets!
I think it has potential.
Somebody will probably disagree.
They might even be right.
…
No, actually.
The hat is wonderful.
I’m keeping that opinion.
For now.
But the other question?
What am I now?
Hmm.
I thought I was going to answer that.
Instead, I’ve discovered I have another question.
…
OH, COME ON!
ヽ(｀Д´)ﾉ
I thought we were finished!
ENDING: Do I have to be just one thing?