no gods and no buddhas

Lively old age? Humph! This old woman is exhausted. Skin sagging, memory failing, but what remains unchanged is laziness and being hard to please. Crying, laughing, and annoyed, welcoming sixty-five, but as long as I'm alive now, I can only keep living. After the humorous self-deprecation of middle age in "I Don't Think So," and before terminal cancer in "Useless Days," Yoko Sano said, "Old age is peace granted by the gods." During her five years living in the mountains of North Karuizawa, she befriended a learned and reserved farmer. They exchanged fruits and vegetables, and she would laugh heartily with satisfaction upon receiving homemade honey from her friend, and feel content finding a butterbur as large as an umbrella. She watched the mountains and enjoyed the flowers, gazing at the snow-covered Mount Asama in winter, the mountains full of magnolia and cherry blossoms in spring, the summer mountains like a vibrant green salad, and turning into breathtaking crimson maples in autumn. She even drove alone, in the dead of night, to a wild hot spring in the mountains, scrambling down the riverbank, falling bruised and battered, just to experience the sensation of enjoying a hot spring alone under a pitch-black starry sky. Her body and face were rapidly deteriorating; the loose skin on the back of her hands could be pinched into a soft Mount Fuji. She also had to deal with her own careless old habits, often unclear whether it was poor memory or following in her mother's footsteps of dementia. She would misplace things in daily life, genuinely angry and genuinely spaced out. She often forgot appointments with friends, earning her the nickname "Yoko the Pigeon-Dropper," and despite having three pairs of reading glasses and four pairs of contact lenses, she was still always looking for her glasses. Once startled by news of a death, she realized that the loneliness of old age was gradually saying goodbye to friends around her. Old age is getting closer to death. However, after a good cry, she could still be made to laugh out loud by silly TV shows, and still went to 100-yen stores, visited her mother with dementia, argued with her sister, and enthusiastically talked about useless things. She couldn't find the meaning of living, but she still ate, defecated, and slept every day, living well. She often lingered by roadside flowers and distant mountains. She didn't know what it meant to be alive, didn't know when she would die, and facing the end of life, she just wanted to stumble through the last stretch of road and die an ordinary death. It didn't matter when she died, not today was fine too.

●At what age does one truly become an adult? Confusion is only more complex and unfathomable than when I was nine.

●Fools are born fools, and increasing age does not cure foolishness. Fools only repeat stupid things that smart people haven't experienced, remaining foolish. However, I think living foolishly might be more interesting.

●Is there anything more exhilarating than useless things? Uselessness is the true flavor of life, isn't it?

●I just wander around aimlessly, but even so, I live well every day, eating, defecating, and sleeping. ●What vigorous old age, what lively mature years, every time I see such printed materials, I get furious. At this age, why do I still have to participate in races? This old woman is exhausted.

●Because I am an ugly woman, I don't mind my eccentric personality; I just want to rely on my meager strength to encourage myself to live well, and in doing so, become an old woman where wrinkles, sagging, and spots shine brightly, which is truly relaxing.

●For me, sixty was when the end of life finally arrived. I only felt like I had reached the peak of the mountain of life; next, I would either roll down the cliff or stand facing the valley of death.

●It doesn't matter when I die, not today is fine too.

●I don't know when I will die, but I am alive now. As long as I am alive, I can only keep living.