Two days have passed away since the news about the friend - but I can't see if my mind has been actually getting recovered from the depressed state. It seems that it can't accept any books as any enjoyment yet, so I just have to face to my depression quietly with some requiems. Yes, I don't have to get hurried about this. I need to walk my way slowly, steadily...
Requiems - Indeed, sadness which comes from any forced separation must be annoying, and it must be really pitiful because I have to force the fact that I am really powerless in front of death. But I can't say that "our life must be a repetition of Hello Goodbye as The Beatles sings, and that's all... Sorry if this sounds too bold, but I remember various great arts I have enjoyed in this life which have come from various fatal, eternal departures. And, I even think of the possibility which might enable me to create my own requiem to the friend, or other friends who have afforded me so many grateful treasures.
Various works which have been made as their requiems - For example, I can remember Philippe Forrest's book "Sarinagara". This tells me that our life must be basically short. But it also tells me that it can have a certain rich, profound taste (although this book seems not to be a bestseller, I recommend you to read if it is available.) The author Philippe Forrest is a French professor who has studied Japanese literature, and he has taught me how the Japanese authors as Souseki Natsume, Issa Kobayashi and Kenzaburo Oe must be amazing people.
Today I worked early, and after that I went back to my group home. I had dinner, and enjoyed an online meeting by the invitation from a Russian friend of mine, Victoria. We watched a movie, and it has taught me various pieces of idea. TBH, I have never read any Tolstoy's works until now - I can't say the reason why. But, the movie taught me that Russia must be really large country which must have great cultural source, so I want to read Tolstoy's masterpiece "Anna Karenina" at first (but as you already know, I can't promise that I will read it completely.)
