Do I Make Myself Clear?

I have been crucified and persecuted by Japanese, because I just happened to be born different: I am simply another breed. What makes Japanese indignant the most is that I am not only being different, but I am entirely unique and original. I love my life too much and worship life itself passionately, that makes Japanese furious. One cannot show his love toward life literally in Japan, for it will hurts Japanese feelings to the hell. What Japanese cannot allow the most is that a person enjoys his life indefinitely. Everything what I did was simply malapropos for Japanese, no matter what. For instance, when I started singing from the moment of sparkling passion, they deplored that I sang provokingly high pitch; when I created a funny joke, they deplored that I abused the same joke endlessly; when I teased my friends in a cordial fashion, they deplored that I ridiculed them superfluously; when I argued with Japanese, they deplored that I expressed myself egotistically; when I was in good spirits, they deplored that I showed off my happiness immoderately; when I embrace my life from tremendous joy with tears in my eyes, they deplored that my emotion was magniloquent; when I loved women, they deplored that my love was out of proportion; when I found out my girlfriends’ lack of characters and started acting impersonally, they deplored that my dispassionateness was so inhuman; when I realized that I was not in love with my girlfriends anymore, they deplored that I disdained them pitilessly; and so on and so forth. I was forced to pretend to be someone else, forced to be shrunken, and forced to hide my true personality from public places in Japan. What is wrong with me? I am more human than any Japanese and embraced life itself with all my passion more than any of them. I am forever ready to show my happiness from the moment of sparkling emotion, and I am capable of singing jubilantly from sheer appreciation of just being alive. Why do I have to pretend to be dull and gloomy when I am actually elated and cannot control my happiness with a heart full of zeal? If you want to be a living dead person, it is OK with me. As a matter of fact, I unanimously agree with you and say indifferently, shrugging my shoulders, “Go ahead to be a spiritually dead person without tasting real life, as you wish.” However, you must stop forcing me to be like you, for I am fully alive with a heart full of love and want to enjoy my life to the fullest. I am an emotional person. When I am sad, I weep like a woebegone widow; when I am happy, I sing like Luis Armstrong, dance like a pleased darky, and shout at the top of my lungs from a sheer joy. Do I make myself clear? You poor Japanese bastards!

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