To die in the morning and be born in the evening,
is like a bubble on the water.
Who knows, the people born and dying, from where they come,
to where they go...

Mother: “What’s that? Doesn’t it look like ‘Obun-sama’?”
Me: “This? This is the ‘Hojoki.’
It’s a book written by Kamo no Chomei, who was perhaps a bit more distinguished than myself.”

May 1927, Honjo Ryogoku, Ryunosuke Akutagawa



I’ve been slowly opening this, which I found at the used book sale at Levan’s Ueno store, but
no matter where I open it,
I find myself reading it as a suicide note from someone about to die,
and my heart becomes agitated and ruffled.
Despite telling myself not to drink, I find myself drinking again, which adds to my sense of inadequacy, leaving me feeling like I’m walking through mud.

I’ve been warned that the loading is taking too long and that spam bots are tweeting on their own. This double dose of downer has me feeling quite low. I’m writing this down with the difficult intention of changing my mood.
That’s right, the Nippon Broadcasting selection is due.
And today is also the Dictionary Club caffe
more, more ~ smile rock again.



← Diary-T 201–206