Kumeta's statements of regret, for KnK volume 26
The final installment. The big statement of regret. Maybe the most real of them all (?). With these words, Kumeta's process of changing from mostly "lol, penis" into "DESPAIR!!!1" ended. Without this process, there would be no Zetsubou Sensei. Please read, and cry. I know I did.
This person was decapitated because of unpopularity
(uchikiri is cancellation, but can literally mean "chopping off")
BIG STATEMENT OF REGRET.
Preamble
For the first time in six years, I went outside on a Wednesday.
My name wasn't in the "Shounen Sunday" magazines
in the convenience stores.
I could finally go outside and feel at ease.
There was no longer any risk that
someone would make the mistake of seeing my rubbish.
The Sunday magazines, which no longer had my rubbish in them,
were glittering and gleaming radiantly
in the summer sun, as if they couldn't lose.
That I had been in that glittering place myself,
now came to seem like an illusion.
Now, Sunday and I don't have to be
tortured by each other anymore.
This first time in six years that I went out on a Wednesday,
the department stores in town were closed.
When I went back home I put on the TV,
and a commercial for "Shounen Sunday" came floating by.
Oh, so this was the rumored 300 million yen campaign.
This commercial with Ueto Aya,
ironically, started at the same time as I left.
300 million yen.... If I only had one hundred of that,
I could have been on the commercial stage for Sunday...
No, I don't have to say things like that anymore...
Summer is especially hot this year.
The last day of July, 2004
Ueto Aya is an actress, singer etc.
When I look back at these six years of serialisation, in a few words, they have been days of mistakes, regrets and despair.
There hasn't been a single day without regrets, out of the 365 days of one year. Just one hour after waking up, early in the morning, I was already regretting things.
After two hours, I was wandering into deep despair.
No, maybe I was already regretting the fact that I yet again had woken up to this reality.
Because it wouldn't matter if I never woke up again, for all eternity. That's what I thought, every night, as I lay down on the floor.
I wanted to die.
But, right now, I'm living. Even when it came to wanting to die, I was a complete loser.
People who want to die but don't are not only losers, but nuisances to the world.
Why did I live this long, up until now, in the middle of all that despair?
Why did I create terrible experiences and welcome
the worst possible results, while living in dishonor?
Maybe, the act in itself of drawing this manga of mine, which I loathed,
was like sandplay therapy for me; like a Baum test.
When you think about it that way, I was forced out of the hospital (cancellation),
although I was getting worse rather than getting better, exactly like the main characters of the story.
Without even having found out which hospital I had been admitted to, I was released.
Before I became a nuisance to the world, I had to do something about myself.
But the more I thought about doing something about myself, the more it came to nothing.
When I acted happy to keep the people around me from worrying, they worried even more about me.
My soul wanders, but is blocked in every direction - when I was depressed, when I was happy, when I was laughing, when I was crying, people were worried about me.
I tried to be happy, I tried to say "life is great."
People disappeared all around me.
I can't do this. I've forgotten about it. These were my statements of regret.
Simply because they are statements of regret, they must work as regrets.
And simply because I've labelled this as one big statement of regret, I must seriously regret everything up until now.
I must make 26 statements of regrets, for every single volume.
Volume 1 The volume that you never go back to read once more in this lifetime
But back then, I still had hope
Volume 2 The horrible, shaky volume where I didn't know what I wanted to do
But back then, I could sleep properly without using any drugs
Volume 3 The terrible volume where I sold my soul because I wanted to be popular, and thus made dirty jokes and romantic comedy
But back then, I answered the phone properly when the editors called
Volume 4 The vulgar volume you can't stand, with the story developed on my whims only
But back then, my toenails were pink
Volume 5 The volume where it would have been better for me to end it, but even though I am regretting it, I can draw the line here
But back then, I remembered what I had eaten yesterday
Volume 6 The volume that I'm relieved that I for some reason don't own
But back then, I was rarely feeling relieved about things
Volume 7 The volume where I might have misunderstood something, because it's progressing really weirdly, and it's painful and terrible
But back then, my drawing hand still wasn't shaking
Volume 8 The inferior volume, already only filled with jokes created out of necessity
But back then, I still wore the same socks on both my left and right foot
Volume 9 - 24 16 volumes of insignificant blank space
During this time, I could no longer make out the difference between dream and reality
Volume 25 The shameless volume where the cancellation was decided
During this time, I was in a white room often
Volume 26 The volume where I could do nothing else but to die already and apologise; a volume filled with excuses
And then I broke
"Katte ni Kaizou" is completed by the death of mangaka Kumeta Kohji...
The way of manga is found in death
Here's what sandplay therapy is, and the Baum test.
Finally, I have written a story for myself.
Since it's a story I wrote for myself, it's not something that should be shown to other people, but I'm putting it here anyway, just a little.
"The bookstore in heaven (specializing in manga)" ™
I'm a mangaka, and I died yesterday.
I died without selling even once.
I died without having my manga being turned into an anime even once.
Now, I'm climbing the stairway to heaven.
I tasted hell enough in my life,
and it seems like I don't have to go to hell now.
A self-appointed Michael wearing a Minky Momo T-shirt
showed up and talked to me.
"I was a fan of your manga."
Naturally, tears fell down my cheeks
because of the archangel's improbable words.
"Thank you, thank you.
You saved my soul at the very last second."
I took Michael's hand, and I lined up
all the words of gratefulness I had
in my meager vocabulary.
Then Michael continued like this.
"I especially like Strawberry 100%."
When I realized what he said, I bound Michael's arms behind his back,
and we fell from the cloud down onto earth.
Minky Momo is a little known (?) magical girl anime.
Special thanks to sommeille for checking my Bad English. Kaizou era is now over. Thanks to all of you who have been following me from the blogs until now. We'll hopefully meet again in some SZS era material, and other Kumeta writings.
This person was decapitated because of unpopularity
(uchikiri is cancellation, but can literally mean "chopping off")
BIG STATEMENT OF REGRET.
Preamble
For the first time in six years, I went outside on a Wednesday.
My name wasn't in the "Shounen Sunday" magazines
in the convenience stores.
I could finally go outside and feel at ease.
There was no longer any risk that
someone would make the mistake of seeing my rubbish.
The Sunday magazines, which no longer had my rubbish in them,
were glittering and gleaming radiantly
in the summer sun, as if they couldn't lose.
That I had been in that glittering place myself,
now came to seem like an illusion.
Now, Sunday and I don't have to be
tortured by each other anymore.
This first time in six years that I went out on a Wednesday,
the department stores in town were closed.
When I went back home I put on the TV,
and a commercial for "Shounen Sunday" came floating by.
Oh, so this was the rumored 300 million yen campaign.
This commercial with Ueto Aya,
ironically, started at the same time as I left.
300 million yen.... If I only had one hundred of that,
I could have been on the commercial stage for Sunday...
No, I don't have to say things like that anymore...
Summer is especially hot this year.
The last day of July, 2004
Ueto Aya is an actress, singer etc.
When I look back at these six years of serialisation, in a few words, they have been days of mistakes, regrets and despair.
There hasn't been a single day without regrets, out of the 365 days of one year. Just one hour after waking up, early in the morning, I was already regretting things.
After two hours, I was wandering into deep despair.
No, maybe I was already regretting the fact that I yet again had woken up to this reality.
Because it wouldn't matter if I never woke up again, for all eternity. That's what I thought, every night, as I lay down on the floor.
I wanted to die.
But, right now, I'm living. Even when it came to wanting to die, I was a complete loser.
People who want to die but don't are not only losers, but nuisances to the world.
Why did I live this long, up until now, in the middle of all that despair?
Why did I create terrible experiences and welcome
the worst possible results, while living in dishonor?
Maybe, the act in itself of drawing this manga of mine, which I loathed,
was like sandplay therapy for me; like a Baum test.
When you think about it that way, I was forced out of the hospital (cancellation),
although I was getting worse rather than getting better, exactly like the main characters of the story.
Without even having found out which hospital I had been admitted to, I was released.
Before I became a nuisance to the world, I had to do something about myself.
But the more I thought about doing something about myself, the more it came to nothing.
When I acted happy to keep the people around me from worrying, they worried even more about me.
My soul wanders, but is blocked in every direction - when I was depressed, when I was happy, when I was laughing, when I was crying, people were worried about me.
I tried to be happy, I tried to say "life is great."
People disappeared all around me.
I can't do this. I've forgotten about it. These were my statements of regret.
Simply because they are statements of regret, they must work as regrets.
And simply because I've labelled this as one big statement of regret, I must seriously regret everything up until now.
I must make 26 statements of regrets, for every single volume.
Volume 1 The volume that you never go back to read once more in this lifetime
But back then, I still had hope
Volume 2 The horrible, shaky volume where I didn't know what I wanted to do
But back then, I could sleep properly without using any drugs
Volume 3 The terrible volume where I sold my soul because I wanted to be popular, and thus made dirty jokes and romantic comedy
But back then, I answered the phone properly when the editors called
Volume 4 The vulgar volume you can't stand, with the story developed on my whims only
But back then, my toenails were pink
Volume 5 The volume where it would have been better for me to end it, but even though I am regretting it, I can draw the line here
But back then, I remembered what I had eaten yesterday
Volume 6 The volume that I'm relieved that I for some reason don't own
But back then, I was rarely feeling relieved about things
Volume 7 The volume where I might have misunderstood something, because it's progressing really weirdly, and it's painful and terrible
But back then, my drawing hand still wasn't shaking
Volume 8 The inferior volume, already only filled with jokes created out of necessity
But back then, I still wore the same socks on both my left and right foot
Volume 9 - 24 16 volumes of insignificant blank space
During this time, I could no longer make out the difference between dream and reality
Volume 25 The shameless volume where the cancellation was decided
During this time, I was in a white room often
Volume 26 The volume where I could do nothing else but to die already and apologise; a volume filled with excuses
And then I broke
"Katte ni Kaizou" is completed by the death of mangaka Kumeta Kohji...
The way of manga is found in death
Here's what sandplay therapy is, and the Baum test.
Finally, I have written a story for myself.
Since it's a story I wrote for myself, it's not something that should be shown to other people, but I'm putting it here anyway, just a little.
"The bookstore in heaven (specializing in manga)" ™
I'm a mangaka, and I died yesterday.
I died without selling even once.
I died without having my manga being turned into an anime even once.
Now, I'm climbing the stairway to heaven.
I tasted hell enough in my life,
and it seems like I don't have to go to hell now.
A self-appointed Michael wearing a Minky Momo T-shirt
showed up and talked to me.
"I was a fan of your manga."
Naturally, tears fell down my cheeks
because of the archangel's improbable words.
"Thank you, thank you.
You saved my soul at the very last second."
I took Michael's hand, and I lined up
all the words of gratefulness I had
in my meager vocabulary.
Then Michael continued like this.
"I especially like Strawberry 100%."
When I realized what he said, I bound Michael's arms behind his back,
and we fell from the cloud down onto earth.
Minky Momo is a little known (?) magical girl anime.
Special thanks to sommeille for checking my Bad English. Kaizou era is now over. Thanks to all of you who have been following me from the blogs until now. We'll hopefully meet again in some SZS era material, and other Kumeta writings.