Art, in reality, is hard to measure by reason.

A painting, a song, or a performance — they speak to emotion, not logic.

Yet in today’s world, art is often defined by capital.

A masterpiece might reach millions not for what it says, but for who owns it.

And sometimes, the truest feelings are the ones left unseen.

Compared to the paintings sold at auctions, I think music and film matter more.

They reach people — not collectors.

A song can comfort someone in silence.

A movie can remind someone to believe again.

Art that lives among people feels more real to me.

Lately, I’ve been drawn to UNIQLO’s PEACE FOR ALL T-shirt series.

It’s more than just clothing — it feels like a statement.

Each design comes from a creator who has made a mark in their own field.

All profits go to charity.

Maybe that’s what art should be — something you can wear, share, and still make the world a little better.

It used to be an easy question.

When I was a student, or even just started working, I could say it right away — playing video games.

But now… it’s hard to name one.

Maybe just going out quietly with the one I love,

watching YouTube together,

or simply doing our own things,

side by side,

without saying much,

but feeling each other’s presence.

Maybe that’s my favorite pastime now —

being together, even in silence.

Losing all your possessions?

It sounds like a disaster —

a crushing blow,

just a step below losing your limbs,

being diagnosed with a terminal illness,

watching the one you love most walk away,

or even staring at the end of your own life.

But then I pause.

And I realize:

losing everything isn’t the end.

At any point in life,

as long as there’s a chance to go on,

things can turn around.

They always do.

I used to believe that hard work always pays off.

But over time, I realized life isn’t that simple.

Effort is necessary, but never enough on its own.

Luck, timing, people — they all play their part.

Still, I don’t see hard work as meaningless.

It just shifted, from “guaranteed success”

to “worth giving it a try.”

Somehow, that softer mindset feels more real.

As a support staff from the head office, I sometimes visit branch sites.

From the start, the roles are never the same—

for me, it’s support; for them, it’s someone from outside.

Along with offering resources, there’s always a part of me observing how the branch operates.

On the repair floor, even small interactions, or just passing by, require a switch in how I carry myself.

That difference often makes me feel like I don’t fully belong.

Yet being in this role also gives me a window into challenges I’d never see from headquarters.

At first I thought, no computer?

That’s fine, I still have my phone, my tablet.

But maybe the question means no 3C at all.

Like thirty years ago, or before I was born.

Yet even then, computers already existed, just weaker, slower, smaller in reach.

So maybe it’s better to imagine the early 19th century.

A world with little information, but opportunities hiding everywhere.

And suddenly I ask myself—

a hundred years later, will people look at our world the same way?

Maybe the chances are still here, and it’s only my eyes that have yet to find them.

Work is important.

But like many people, I see it as a way to live, not the goal itself.

At the end of the day, it’s about family—

wanting them to live better,

wanting to share more time together.

I think many of us are the same.

We work hard, not just for titles or numbers,

but for the simple hope

that the ones we love can smile a little more easily.