I didn’t really intend for tragedy to always return me to Girls’ Last Tour writeups, but here I am again. This has not been an easy summer for me, and Girls’ Last Tour is pretty much where my headspace is – “getting along with the feeling of hopelessness” and all of that. At its core, Girls’ Last Tour is a story about death specifically, and about things ending more generally. The decaying civilization that Chi and Yuu struggle through is a reminder of the impermanence of all things, the kind of reminder that makes it impossible to live without acknowledging your own impermanence. Yuu and Chi cannot console themselves with “our lives will be remembered,” “our actions will contribute to a greater cause,” or anything else that implies a kind of eternity – the crumbled streets they putter through stand as a guard against any such illusions, emphasizing that all things eventually end.

As we make our own way through lives full of restless action and ambitious plans, perpetually reflecting on impermanence isn’t necessarily a helpful exercise – yeah sure, it may all turn to dust eventually, but we still gotta work and eat and take care of each other. But when you are reminded of impermanence, and lose something that cannot be replaced, it helps to have stories like Girls’ Last Tour, which acknowledge that loss while insisting that life is worth living even though life will end. There is so much beauty in this world, and I am forever thankful for the stories that acknowledge both the beauty and the sorrow, and greet the inevitable tragedies of living with honesty and hope. Living is its own meaning, and love is its own reward. Let’s return to the irrepressibly joyous Girls’ Last Tour.

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