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It has been three years since my golden age was over. Irrevocable fate has decided to send me back to the place I have avoided seeing ever since I succeeded in escaping: Japan. I am perpetually melancholy and incurably depressed. Nothing can cheer me up, nothing can make me happy and excited, and nothing can give me any joy and enthusiasm. Even literature had slipped away from me. I have tried to read my favorite authors to cure my emotional devastation and get my life back to where it is supposed to be, but nothing can work on me. I cannot see any hope in the future; I have become an utter failure. I am at the bottom now where I have never fallen down so deeply. I even do not care of what will happen in the future anymore and am totally indifferent to everything.
I always recall my wonderful adventures in the world, especially Canada, where I spent the best years in my life. The truth is that it has become impossible for me to adjust to Japanese society anymore.
I have met all my friends in Canada, Australia, and Mexico. And I miss them so much. I was supposed to finish writing my first book in Vancouver. However, I could not write a single line of my book. Only God knows what was wrong with me at that time. I had buried myself in books almost for ten hours every day to find out a clue how to begin and had tried to imitate my heroes’ writing styles, but everything came to nullity. I was constantly afraid of one thing: going back to Japan to take a job again. The idea of taking a job in Japan terrorized me like an incessant nightmare. Finally, the worst situation happened: financial crisis came upon me, and my visa expired. I had no choice, but with shame, I had to go back to Japan to ask my parents to let me stay at their house for a while.