There is a Japanese tale about a blind monk who sang and played a japanese banjo. He’d been invited to sing for this large group of people for a while when his boss realized that he was actually singing to a group of ghosts who really liked his concerts. They liked it so much that they decided to take him to the other world. The boss, in an effort to prevent this from happening, wrote spells all over the blind monk’s body, which makes him invisible from the ghosts — except for his ears. Seeing only his ears, the chauffeur ghost says, “alright, I guess I’ll just take these ears back home then.”

I used to feel upset about his boss missing ears. I always thought why forget the ears? But then, it just occured to me that it is just like putting on sunscreen — I, too, forget about my ears.

I, too, love kitkats.