Today was a day off. This morning, I talked with a friend online by Discord. I talked about the group home I live in, the election we experienced, the English conversation class I attend, and the job I'm keeping on doing. It was a pleasant time, but I could say nothing about the things I would want to do in my dreams. The dreams I want to make real... I don't have any future visions as clear things. Once I had them as wishing to be a bestseller writer. If it was too big, then I would like to be a great writer... but now, I lost such a great purpose. I might give up, or I might be satisfied with my current state.
As I wrote on Facebook, I have to say that "I' have lost my dreams completely" and that's all. Indeed, I have various things to do more. I want to keep on using job coaches at my workplace. I also want to keep on writing this journal. I want to enjoy the love too. But what should be the dreams? All I want to do from the bottom of my mind are "I want many readers" and "I want various reactions to my writings". But they have been already realized now. That's enough... maybe I know how should be the state 'satisfaction'. As I wrote once, I think that this is good like the characters in Yasujiro Ozu's movies. I remember they say "If we wished, we could be greedy more and more". Probably I am tired of having desires or dreams.
In the afternoon I enjoyed chatting with a Muslim woman who lives in America. She said that I am beautiful. I'm not such a great and clean person, as I always write. I have a certain desire for love... but I don't show the nasty essences in me because it is uncool. That's my style. We talked about literature. I recommended her one of my beloved novels, Paul Auster's "Moon Palace". She recommended Delia Owens's "Where The Crawdads Sing". I googled about it and found that it had been translated into Japanese and praised highly. I should read it as soon as possible.
She told me that Daniel Auster, the son of Paul Auster, had passed away because of an overdose of heroin. He must be still young... So, as an addicted person, I thought about what I could write about this death. I can never make any fiction so I should try to confess my shameful life based on my past and some of the Japanese traditional novels. I thought I found what I should do 'now'. Time won't wait. I write something even if I have not tried or learned enough. That's my nature. I will read Ocean Vuong's or Yiyun Li's novels.
