No Weddings, But A Funeral...

I am currently reading a book written by a Japanese War photographer/journalist who suffers from clinical depression and alcoholism, just like me. You may wonder how someone can go about being depressed, not take madication, and live his life proudly drinking and gambling away -- comfortably.

Well. He does. And he does it with the support of his family. His wife is a famous cartoon artist whose recent work was made into a film; the story is both happy, and sad, but nonetheless a heartbreaking one. I have been a fan of his wife who portrays the lower ranks of the working class Japanese in simple style and language. She has two lovely children with the depressed war correspondent who spends less than 2 months in a year with his family. The rest of the time he is taking photos of flying shrapnel, or being stoned in a cheep hotel with no money for his next fix.

But he is one of my favourite Japanese writers.

Sometimes I wish that I could live a life like his: being stoned/drunk and unaware of anyone or anything... just let time pass. I meet people who I do not care about, but will help me kill time for the bottle (or two). I want to wake up at my own time, wonder in a strange land, take a few interesting photos, and go back to chasing the dragon with strangers for the rest of the day. I want to lose my memory to the point where I cannot remember when was the last time that I had a memory, just like the authour of the book that I read. And yet he has more than a lifetime of experiences and observances to last an eternity.

I wish that I could live a life of just emptiness so that I can embrace the whole...

Last week, a friend of mine committed suicide... I used to fancy him, but he went out with my friend. (plus I was going thru a breakup and wanted to take things slowly) I left it at that, but they broke up; nearly 6months after their break up he contacted me, and we went out for a casual lunch. He looked pale, and melancholy, but had a lovely afternoon. We enjoyed the sunset and a brief walk, talking about old times. And that was the last I heard of him.

Till I heard he was dead.

It's strange how you miss a person who you have not heard from in a year.

J, may you rest in peace. If things were different, you and I may have been lovers...