BGM: Prince - Kiss
Yesterday I had enjoyed an online meeting about Haruki Murakami's novel (mainly about his "A Wild Sheep Chase".) Indeed, it was a pleasant time for me but I certainly felt strange so much because I couldn't think that my English could make any sense. At that meeting, I used English to explain my thoughts. There was no time for me to think about how to describe my ones slowly, so I did speak as my inspiration suggested.
Therefore, I ask this - Does my English make sense? Arriving at this point, I always feel really strange emotion. Once when I had started learning English as a student/beginner, I had thought about whether my English was correct. My grammar, my structure of English could be Okay? etc. But now, instead of them, I started relying on the hunch/inspiration in me. Now, I feel that my soul, my heart is speaking my own English even though it can contain a lot of mistakes.
This morning, I thought of my pitiful, terrible days again (indeed, it is already an "usual" event for me.) Once, because I had been treated as a crazy, strange creep too much, I had tried to react like a comedian in any TV programs. The place where I had lived was the one where comedy culture had been popular, therefore I thought that I could survive through that hard period if I became a trickster. Yes, I did various silly things as Osamu Dazai's novel describes - and, I had been always crying in my mind quietly.
After that period (after the days I had to admit my trial to be a comedian was absolutely "crap",) I started hating this world. Yes, I hate everything. The outer world which has afforded me this terrible life, this mad reality - and also this self. Hate, hate, and hate. But then, where that emotion of hating everything had gone away? Now, even though I am still poor, I can feel I started understanding and loving (or at least, trying to love) everything.
This evening, I attended an online meeting. The members showed my their tenderness by referring to my journal. I have been glad for that.