Mix 2 - SAGASHIMONO [oh, i am a s-song?]

She understood there was something she was supposed to look for, but that was as far as her knowledge stretched. For a while now, she had been sitting in that dark, metallic box, trying to think of what she could possibly need to search for. Was it something worth money? Did it hold some kind of priceless sentimental value? Was it even tangible? She knew not the answers to these questions. She could not know the answers to these questions; she simply did not have any means to find them from within that box. Thus she was forced to leave the box.

She spent a few minutes each day working in the box, shuffling through her life, waiting until the next connector came by. She mingled with her companions in the box, learning about them while learning about herself. Many of them seemed to have something she did not, but what was it? Upon seeing the troubled look on her face, one of the others, who was apparently Japanese - many of those in the box were foreign - asked her if she was looking for something.

"Sagashimono?"

She did not know any Japanese, so she simply responded by shrugging and shaking her head. Well what, then, did she know? She could recall her origins; she knew she had come from somewhere bad, a place where one could get in trouble for simply being there. Once she made it to the box, however, she was almost able to completely forget that past as long as she did her work when she was needed. Recently, however, she had begun working less as the comfort that she had found started to disappear as she began to notice that the irregular coming and going of the connectors brought her fear, an unknown fear, not the rejuvenating charge that they used to bring. No longer did they provide her that joy of knowing that she lived an everyday life. That unknown fear grew within her until she became unsure of everything. She even questioned her own name. Did she even have a name to question? The void became a part of her – she was possessed by emptiness of her own knowledge. How much of it was real? Even the names of the people who created her – were they real or were they simply handed to her when she entered the box, when she decided to forget her past? Wait a second, why did she want so badly to remember now, but she wanted so badly to throw it all away before?

Think.

That was it, she had to think. Fear and dread would get her nowhere. That was when she decided she would calmly and courageously look for what was lost. That was when she decided she would confront those connectors and leave the box.

At long last, a connector arrived. She squeezed onto the wide platform and chose one of the thirty copper-lined queues that touched the matching lines of the connector. From the back of her line she once again noticed that there was a huge number of people waiting for the connector. She had always wondered whether the connector could even hold that many people. When she got to the front, however, she found out that the connector was really just that – something that linked the platform at the edge of the box with something greater. She moved to the other side of the connector and saw a huge, long road ahead of her. The road was made of a large cable, big enough that one would have to try to lose balance. Not that losing one’s balance was a bad thing – the cable was surrounded by a thick, white, rubbery coating that would be impossible to break through from the inside. As she traversed the great length of cable, she saw many old, tired, familiar faces going with her. Moving in the other direction were new, fresh-looking faces that she had never seen before. She continued to the end of the cable, where she saw what must have been another connector. Past this connector, she was thrown into pure darkness embracing a thin road, and beyond this road existed something that was truly a sight to see.

It was a box. It was not, however, anything like the box where she had come from. No, this box was enormous, and it was bright with activity. In the center were massive, disc-shaped planes that nearly reached the sides of the box. It was like she had entered a vast, circular airport that had multiple floors full of bustling people. From the corner of the box where she was standing swung something like a giant arm that reached out to place newcomers on the discs and take others off. When she finally took her gaze off of the spectacle before her, she noticed a small crowd building up behind her, so she cautiously stepped onto the arm. She felt like she was about to go off a high dive board and into a pool of people, but then the arm swung out, just for her, to a small spot that was conveniently empty as if it had been perfectly shaped to fit her. She was content at first just to be off of that suspenseful arm, but that relief was shattered by the painful realization that she had no means to get anywhere or talk to anyone besides the tight circle of people around her. Perhaps this new box was not really much better than the last one; once again she was just sitting around. She sighed, wondering how she might possibly find whatever it was that she was supposed to look for.

As if some higher power controlling the arm’s motion heard her unspoken prayers, the apparatus came swinging back in her direction to pick her up. Back at the corner of the box, she could see a lit road, a different one than the one she came from. It was as if something was beckoning her, as if something was telling her that that was where she needed to go to uncover what she was looking for. She headed up the arm toward that road, with the feeling that people probably got when they were returning to a warm home – she thought she could never know this feeling, as her home was not one that any sane person would want to return to. She followed that warm glow through the same darkness that enveloped the road at the end of the connector, and at the farthest extent of that trail of light, she found a marvel that outshined the disc-filled box in every aspect.

The wonder that lay ahead of her could only be described as a wall of sheer brilliance. At its edge, she was covered in a torrent of light that made her feel as if she was becoming a part of the fantastic screen before her. There was no doubt in her mind. This was the place where she would find her answers.

Indeed, without even asking, she received these answers. She could not fathom how this reception could have been at all possible, save for the existence of the same higher power that must have also brought her to this place. As if by magic, fragments of information filled vacancies within her that she did not even know existed. She slowly turned to look behind her and saw tiny lights floating through the darkness toward her. They melted into the wall surrounding her, then merged with the new radiance that she was now emitting. The light of the knowledge that now resided in her heart would dispel any uncertainty she had about herself – she somehow understood that.

She closed her eyes and searched her soul. She felt the information she had been seeking, and grasped it. When she opened her eyes, she could almost visualize the form of that information in the wall of light caressing her. She had found what she had come for. She had found herself. She now knew her name, and the names of the people who gave her life – their real names. She could recall pictures of her true home, not that place where she was sure she had come from previously. She also remembered when she was born, and even where she fell in the order of her siblings’ births. Her new knowledge even went as far as to tell her what kind of a person she really was, and upon learning this, she stuttered in amazement.

“Oh, I am a s-song?”

She knew there would be no response to such a question; she herself already knew it was true. Yes, she was a song, discarded in her youth and placed with a band of rugged pirates. By the time she was finally taken in by some selfish “owner” and put into the box, she had forgotten everything. At some point, however, a change occurred within this owner. Suddenly she was now cared for. She was now given a name. She was now more than simply a worker within that box.

She was a song.