All You Need Is Kill

by Hiroshi Sakurazaka

If there’s a heaven, it’s a cold place. A dark place. A lonely place.

Good ideas don’t stand a chance against good bureaucracy.

Let me tell you what happens when your lungs are crushed. You drown, not in water, but in air. Gasp as hard as you like, crushed lungs can’t pass the oxygen your body needs to your bloodstream. All around you, your friends are breathing in and out without a second thought while you drown alone in a sea of air.

At the end of the day, every man has to wipe his own ass. There’s no one to make your decisions for you, either.

“You ever hear the expression kiri-oboeru?” “What?” I asked, startled to hear the Japanese. “It’s an old samurai saying that means ‘Strike down your enemy, and learn.’

“Our lives should be written in stone. Paper is too temporary—too easy to rewrite.”

There is what we desire to do, and what we are able to do. When those two things don’t coincide, which path should we pursue to find happiness?

joys, and fears never entered into the equation. Some would live, others would die. It was all up to the impartial god of death called probability.