I Am a Very Slow Writer

From that day on, my life dramatically changed for the better, and I have felt as though I were reborn again with a dauntless heart: I am a new man in toto. I wake up as fresh as daisy every morning full of enthusiasm. The main thing is that I have a prodigious purpose to accomplish every single day.

I have never been so happy and contented in my life; I have felt that the angels of heaven smiling upon my life all in all. I wake up at nine sharp every morning as fresh as Dionysius and jump up from the bed like a jubilant frog, without a hysterical alarm clock or Gerardo’s loud fart, so to speak, eat a breakfast tranquilly, go to Starbucks near the entrance of Fifth Avenue to have a morning coffee, so I can be relaxed to muse on my daily task, like Don Quixote concocting his knight errand. I go to Mamita Beach to read my favorite books to warm up myself as a Trojan before fighting for his belief, and I contemplate God’s blue horizon as serenely as Apollo. I amble on Fifth Avenue as free as a jubilant beggar in order to find a cheap place to eat lunch, go to the other Starbucks in order to write some pages as grave as Dostoevsky, join Ramon and Patricia to eat a huge dinner as if I were a giant, and contentedly saunter on Fifth Avenue again with them, since the night of Fifth Avenue makes a different impression on me.

It was about 7:00 p.m. on a Friday. When I came back to the apartment with heart a full of happiness after the intensive session at Starbucks, Ramon was changing his clothes in order to sail on Fifth Avenue with full enchantment. As soon as he saw my fulfilled face, he piped up, “Hey bitch, how was your day? How many pages did you knock down today?”

“A good ten pages, my friend. It was an awesome experience. As you know, I am a very slow writer. I usually write only two or three pages a day, but I am content with a little progress, which I’ve made each day. However, suddenly, some divine inspiration came about, and I wrote page after page like a possessed. It’s actually a tremendous feeling to write like that. I am so happy, my friend!”

He was laughing. And he said, “Shogo, I’ve told you many times that Playa Del Carmen is good for you because here are a lot of tourists, so you can speak English. Besides, here are many sexy women, the fresh climate, the warm weather, the incredible blue sky, beautiful beaches, the calm ocean, and so on and so forth. Here you can relax and feel peaceful, which makes you stimulated to write. I’ve always told you: the beginning of writing is the most difficult thing for you, but if you can clear that stage, you’ll knock down a number of books. I am very proud of you, bitch!”

I could not help smiling.

Understood That My Suffering Had Meaning

I decided to go to Starbucks near Ramon’s apartment, where usually only a few people occupy the second floor and where I can be all myself in order to gush down my thoughts on papers. While walking on my way to Starbucks along the golf course, I was so radiant as though I had become the sun itself because my heart was blazing ferociously. I was as light as air and gliding on asphalt like a wind. Suddenly, my eyes caught a beautiful blond mother with ocean blue eyes sitting on a bench, who was changing her child’s diaper; I thought that the mother herself needs to have her underwear changed by a Japanese caress, perhaps? I was shaking my head chidingly, “Not today, not today, sir! You have more important things to do now. Vagina can wait! Now off you go, idiot!”  

As soon as I came to Starbucks, I grabbed Java Chip Frappuccino and glided to the second floor. I completely lost the track of time and did not have any idea how long I had been writing when Ramon called me, “Hey bitch, where are you? It’s now around seven, I am waiting for you at the apartment.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know it’s been so late. I’ll be right back. Wait for me there, okay? I’ll tell you everything that has happened to me today when I am back there. Ramon, you aren’t going to believe me!”

“Hey, calm down, bitch. Do you want me to pick you up there?”

“No, my friend. I’d rather feel like walking after such an incredible experience that I’ve been through, because I’ve been blossoming the entire day.”

“Ha-ha-ha. As you wish, bitch. But come home soon, okay?”

“Like the wind!”

After I hung up the phone, I decided to read what I just had written. When I read it, uncontrollable tears were streaming down my face. It was so natural; I simply couldn’t stop them from streaming down. It showed me that I’ve always written in my head subconsciously, what I have always felt about my life and the world. It was revealed to me that I could express my feelings on papers. This realization was enough for me. I felt like being rewarded for my persistence and understood that my suffering had meaning.

Just Listen to My Heart

I still could not believe that the blazing sun was above me, since it was January. Japan was now freezing, with a bitter wind, perhaps? “It is a marvelous day indeed, so I don’t need to hurry to strike a conversation with this beautiful woman with a white bikini. Take time, Shogo,” I talked to myself under the breath. Ergo, I just nodded and said hello to her. As soon as I opened A Wonder Plays on Muted Strings, I completely forgot about the lovely woman with a white bikini sitting right beside me, for I was so engrossed in Hamsun’s lyrical and passionate language. The marvelous passage made me shiver to the core of my being:

 “It is wrong of a captain to ask God to forgive him – as he forgives God. He is simply dramatizing. A wanderer who does not each day find food and drink, clothes and shoes, house and home provided, according to his needs, feels just the right degree of privation when all these splendors are absent. If one thing does not work out, another will. And if that other fails to work out also, he does not go around forgiving God but takes the responsibility himself. He put his shoulder to the wheel of fortune – that is to say, he bows his back before it. It is a trifle hard on flesh and blood, it grays the hair horribly; but a wanderer thanks God for life, it was fun to live!”

This rapturous passage enlightened me and made me fall into reverie. Do I need to wait for divine inspiration from above in order to get started? Why don’t I just start writing from what my heart tells me? In all my life, I have always known what I want to say, and I have eagerly carried my own unique music inside me. The problem is that I have always tried to write everything into a single book heretofore – that is why I have not gotten started yet. I do not need to write all my thoughts into a single book; why don’t I just start writing what I feel like expressing today? Hamsun has revealed to me: “If one thing does not work out, another will.” If I write nonsense today, maybe, I can write something good tomorrow. The imperative thing is that I ought to start writing and ought to keep on writing every day faithfully. I do not need to ask God to give me inspiration; I just listen to my heart. If I listen to my heart attentively and write according to what my heart tells me, God will take care of the rest. No matter what happens, I just have to take the responsibility myself.

I could not control the excitement anymore, for I felt like starting to write a book immediately. I suddenly jumped up and thanked the ravishing lady sunbathing right beside me for enlightening me and kissed both her cheeks. She looked at me confoundedly and said involuntarily, “You’re welcome.” She was still staring at me bewilderedly, but I did not say anything. I just bowed deeply and bolted to Fifth Avenue like a firecracker.

Surrender to My Heart

Sometimes we cannot explain how a certain thing occurs in our lives. Usually, it is a most crucial thing, which you have fervently craved your entire life. You cry, scream, gibber, pray, and curse, but it never budges. Out of desperation, you swear that you will abandon your faith in Almighty God and will forever turn your back on Him while making the silliest defiant expression on your face. But it is not enough. In order to show your everlasting agony and disappointment with Him, you start pulling your hair out hysterically, dance sacrilegiously, and spit up to the heavens insolently, but it still does not budge a wee bit. It has become beyond your comprehension; you become dispirited to the point of giving it up – that moment, the thing somehow befalls upon you out of the blue.

It is easier than I thought, because I do not need to force myself; I just have to surrender to my heart. It was eleventh of January; I was ambling on the Fifth Avenue in the sun as fresh as a baby god, singing a French song, “la-la-la-la-la!” I did not understand what made me elated in this morning, but the essential thing was that I was actually high spirited. In this exuberant mood, I went to Mamita Beach to read a book and enjoy looking at the horizon with the sound of the calm sea and the mighty sun. When I came to Mamita Beach, there had been already a bunch of beautiful women getting tanned, and a blazing sunshine was bathing them. The sight of them made my eyes water, and I thanked God ardently for sustaining and for my being alive to witness this phenomenon. When I saw a vacant spot right beside a ravishing woman sunbathing in the sun, I swiftly dove onto the white sand right next to her.

Live Happily Ever After

“I’m starting to understand you better. As I told you, you are an extraordinary person, so, Shogo, please don’t change who you are, okay? Likewise, I am always on my way, according to my heart’s desire. Do you know why I want to have sex every day?”

“Pray tell me, I beg you, Henri. I’m dying to know about your point of view.”

He drained the glass of tequila and confided, “Shogo, you should know I’ve slept with many nationalities in my life because I very much love sex, which everyone knows. Moreover, I’ve slept with thirty-five women past three months. I’ve been to a bed with French, Mexican, Hungarian, Brazilian, Chinese, Canadian, American, Korean, Italian, Czech, African, Australian, Norwegian, Russian, Columbian, German, Argentinean women, and so on and so forth. I guess I’ve slept with most nationalities. There are only a few nationalities left for me to conquer, but Shogo, I’ve never slept with Japanese.”

He was lapsing into his own thought for a few second and exclaiming, “Oh! Shogo, I remember now. I slept with a Japanese girl in Hong Kong. Anyway, Shogo, if I meet a woman, I don’t care about her personality, and I’m not interested in talking either because my only goal is: have sex. For that reason, I always ask a woman directly if she wants to go to a bed with me or not; I don’t want to waste my time for chattering. You know, nowadays many married couples betray each other, and many married couples get divorced. I don’t want to get divorced when I get married; therefore, I give myself a certain time to enjoy having sex with as many women as I can before marrying. Of course, I love sex so much that is the main reason. Right now I don’t want to have any girlfriends and don’t want to have any relationships, but I want to enjoy getting laid as much as possible. I am twenty-seven years old now. I intend to marry when I become thirty years old. After I get married, I won’t have sex with any women except my future wife because I want to be loyal to my wife and vice-versa. I want to be a faithful husband and don’t want to be divorced. Once I get married, I want to live happily ever after. Shogo, you know now about my vision of life. Likewise, if I take a vacation, I don’t care about money either, but I truly care about enjoying the moment to the fullest. When I am in Paris, I’m not like this all the time; I am busy at work every day. However, once I take a vacation, I let myself lose for enjoyment.”

Here Ramon and Patricia were coming back to the apartment. Henri said, “Let’s go upstairs to join them. Maybe, order pizza, no? Oh, Shogo, I want to tell you one more thing. You should come to Paris someday. I know you’ll love it there, and it’s good for you to live in the Parisian atmosphere, which will nourish your soul. Moreover, Jean always asks me what you’re doing here or whether you’ve finished writing your book. He wants to help you to launch your career in Paris. He always says he’ll do all possible to make you recognized as a writer in France. Now I understand why people always believe in you and want to help you. Shogo, please try to write your book as soon as possible and come to Paris, okay?”

His last words are still lingering in my head: Paris. I have always thought that if anywhere in the wide world would give me an opportunity to get started as a writer, it would be France. I have always dreamt about going to Paris, waving my manuscript triumphantly. Maybe, Henri’s vision of life is extreme, but he surely knows what he wants to do in his life and what makes him happy. Every French person, who I have met in my life, knows how to enjoy the precious moments fundamentally, and it seems to me that they are happy just being alive. Enjoying whatever life offers them is in their blood, perhaps? What a delightful race French people are! It is no wonder that Miller ardently praised French culture and amorously enjoyed his period of life in Paris.