Modern Pillow Book: Sei Shonagon

Beyond a thousand years, even in the letters we exchange, there is affection. I would spend my days with you as my wife.
(Chiyo koete au fumi ni sae nasake ari kimi o tsuma to shi akasan mono o)
In this present age, you and I. One thousand years since the time I lived. Lady Sei Shonagon, I wish to take you as my wife.

People who write blogs, how charming.

People who write blogs are truly charming.

Though no one asked them to, they sit alone in the dead of night, facing a glowing screen, writing in detail about the udon they ate today, the way their cat yawns, or the unreasonableness of their boss. Ah, how admirable. Is the movement of their hearts any different from when I used to spread paper behind a screen and take up my brush in the old days?

Everyone is a creature that cannot help but want to share what they have seen and thought with someone else. Some call this 'the desire for approval' with a modern-sounding name and treat it as something shameful, but that is ridiculous. Did Fujiwara no Michinaga not write, 'I think of this world as my own,' and leave behind a boastful post for posterity? That full moon poem from a thousand years ago is the original viral tweet.

Things that are disheartening

Things that are disheartening.

An article written with all one's heart that gets three views. And two of them are your own.

When you find that a friend you trusted to 'like' your post has given a thousand 'likes' only to photos of other people's cats.

The moment after you post an essay you poured your soul into, a minister's gaffe shakes the world, and your writing vanishes like seaweed in the flow of time.

Someone who cannot read the context at all appears in the comments section and starts getting angry about something completely unrelated. The fluttering in your chest at the moment you try to reply, 'I didn't write anything like that,' but then stop your brush, thinking that if you reply, you lose.

All of these are truly disheartening. Yet, I write again. That is what people are like.

Things that make the heart flutter

Things that make the heart flutter.

The moment in the middle of the night when you touch your finger to the button marked 'Post' for the essay you have finished writing.

When you wake up the next morning and peek at the glowing screen by your pillow to find a stranger has added a single line: 'I read it. I cried.' Ah, where is this person, and what kind of person are they? I do not know their face, I do not know their name, yet they have certainly touched my heart and left. It is very much like the feeling of catching the eye of a gentleman passing by through the gap in the blinds of an oxcart.

This must be the modern form of the exchange of poems and letters of old. Crossing distance and status, heart and heart touch for a moment. Though the vessel changes, the framework of human emotion has not changed a bit in a thousand years.

Things that are unbecoming

Things that are unbecoming.

An old man with white hair mimicking the speech of a young girl, writing things like 'so deep' or 'too funny, lol.' No, I do not say it is bad. It is just that the nature of the amusement is different. An old man has his own charm in his own words, so why cast it aside?

Someone who adds a selfie to the end of a long post seriously lamenting the state of the world. Are we meant to look at the text or the face?

When someone starts a post with 'I am prepared for the backlash,' but the content is neither harmful nor helpful. The way their resolve misses the mark is truly pathetic.

Things that are appalling.

Things that are appalling.

Those who, taking advantage of their anonymity, casually throw words at others that they would never say to their faces. It is exactly the same as the courtiers who shrink away in the presence of the Empress, only to gossip behind her back once they return to their quarters. I sigh to think that human nature has not changed a bit in a thousand years.

However, within these glowing screens, there also dwell many very kind people. Those who sincerely empathize with the sorrows of people they have never met. Those who quietly leave words of encouragement in the dead of night when no one is watching.

Where the darkness is deep, there is always a corresponding light. This, too, is no different from the Imperial Court.

Things that are amusing.

In the end, blogs and social media are no different in essence from the rumors we exchanged in our quarters, the poems we sent each other, or the notes we scribbled down.

People cannot help but write. They cannot help but read. They want someone to see them, and they want to peek at someone else.

That a world would come a thousand years later where every commoner has their own notebook and can scribble whatever they please is truly like a dream. It is enviable, and also, a little bit noisy.

—But still, it is amusing. Truly, it is amusing.

I shall cast this essay onto the glowing screen. If it reaches even one person, that is enough.

Even if there are no 'likes.' (Though, if there are, I would be even happier.)