The vibrant energy of Taiwan's job recruitment posters is striking.
Perhaps there's still a pure sentiment towards labor.
Every shop is kind. They don't yet know the spiritual poverty of Japanese workers who can only recite lines from a manual.

If there is to be a change for Japan's young workers, in their twenties to early thirties, who have been molded since childhood into robots with a mentality that equates work solely with efficiency, it might only come from immersing themselves with Taiwanese workers. That work itself can generate joy for humans. Because things don't always go as planned, work is forced to be creative.

To live in Taiwan.

There's no time left for hesitation if I'm to encounter a different self. My life has been lived haphazardly, but if I consider 'The End' to be about ten years away, then Taiwan, Paris, Indonesia, Vietnam, the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela, Chiang Mai, Kyoto…

From here on, I have no choice but to be systematic.
Seriously? I, who fart aimlessly, am the stubborn fool in a fool's paradise.

Like a romantic film, like a romantic novel, as if curating the soundtrack for them each day,
To live and dwell in Taiwan, to shoot films,
I want to live fully until I can accept that this is enough. Of course, this is on a personal scale,
because I still haven't created what I truly want to create.



Art instantly steals my time up to that moment
and must show me a world I have yet to experience.
Before the nude painting displayed at the hotel front desk, my everyday life crumbles. And then I hear Charles Aznavour's 'La Bohème'.
This is nowhere, yet somewhere.



Embracing objects.
A hotel adorned with tasteless art.
The extraordinary I seek is here. Or so I thought, but,
It's because I can hear a melody that truly stirs the heart… it makes me feel that way.



The intensely astringent Taiwanese tea is wonderful.
It seeps into my decaying body like 'I'm Not Afraid' – supple and smooth.

I've long known that I cannot end my life with a happy ending.
Rather than postponing the answer indefinitely and paying unnecessary interest, it's better to resolutely and sincerely accept the truth and embrace a prescription for adorning one's life with celebration.



Fools, fire your blank shots.
Farting is fine. Snoring is fine. Whistling is fine.
Shout! As loudly as you can.
Ah, the love where the footsteps of a small person sound like a giant's.
The dam in my eyes is breaking.
I'm In The Mood For Love
To be foolish, to be silly, to fall in love, to cherish,
I'm In The Mood For Love
Being alive is a mixture of tears and laughter.
Milk spurting from the piano, 'Mother, come back, please'.
The impossible is the art of living, Maestro!
Let's play until we die, my love ♥



← Diary-T 243–248