Feeling Sorry for My Lot

Autumn is coming. Trees are becoming bare, and so is my heart. Nothing has changed dramatically, except that I have a whole lot of time. In spite of that, money is running out day by day. Either I cannot write anything or cannot concentrate on my study. Something must be bothering my conscience. I should escape from Japan before I am out of my mind, that is crystal clear to me. It has been for two months without a job, but I have not done anything tangible yet; I have been only moping around and feeling sorry for my lot. Three years ago, a year ago, I believed that I was born to be a writer and was so sure of that I would start writing a book when the time was right. But when? I am not sure about it anymore. I have been approaching the end of thirty-three years old, and in two months, I will be thirty- four years old! When I think that I have struggled in vain to write for over eight years and have not produced anything, I become furious. However, when depression assails me, I always make excuses to myself to avoid brooding about my abortive striving, because if I do not, I am certain that I will jump out from a skyscraper with no hesitation.

2 thoughts on “Feeling Sorry for My Lot

  1. Dear Shogo,
    Honesty is a rare quality to have and something most people don’t possess. It’s okay for you to be where you are although this is painful right now. You are an excellent writer and will write many more books that inspire others when the time is right. We all go through these negative phases where much soul searching is done, and then become stronger than ever. Of course it’s not easy, but that’s the artist’s lot in life until, one day, their work is appreciated. Hang in there.

  2. Thanks, Sophie! I am happy to be an artist even though it is hard for me to support myself till being recognized. And I am being in Mexico with my friends right now and have started writing my third book! I will be patiently waiting for the right time to be recognized; meanwhile, I will do what I must do: express myself.

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