About the posts.  My friend Michael told me I should think about entering this.  As I’m writing, I feel like I’m getting rid of a lot of the brightness and the color of my original vision.  Its just becoming dark, very, very dark fantasy.  Its for a competition on homelessness, so what I’m writing is about what it means to lose a home.  Its kind of a vision  of a man losing a planet, or losing sanity, or losing his family.  I want to write another thing later too.  My friend asked me if I ve ever experienced homelessness.  I have known homeless pople.  I like them.  I talk to them.  I play shogi with them.  I have housed them.  But I’ve never been one.  I have felt different at times within this world, like an exile.  I didn’t really know how to make my dream about homelessness.  Its not a very bright subject.   I know who homeless people are in Japan.  They are people without place.  I have met people who prefer being homeless in Australia and Japan.  I’ve never met anyone who likes to feel completely not at home.  That what be the most homeless person.  Homeless people often have communities, networks of friends.  I know this because I’ve seen them.  Not all of them of course, This is difficult.  The winner of this story should capture the sense of hopelessness and lostness of that state of being homeless.  There would be other worthy winners.  Maybe the most worthy winner would be the person who gave the most dignity to the homeless.  Empathy means trying to find someone else’s sadness somewhere within your own story.  You can find their happiness too.  I love being in the park.  I love being under the trees.  If I had enough to eat, felt safe enough and, I guessswasn’t married, I might choose to do that  I’m reading some Woodie Guthrie at the moment.  Dignity is the gift I would like to give.  But I don’t know how without writing Life is Beautiful, which I don’t like as a film. I was thinking yesterday about human uniqueness. Its ridiculous not to love homeless people.  By definition they muasst be amazing.  They can speak can’t they.  They have language.  They have opposable thumbs.  They often work, selling the Big Issue.  They dream.  They can write.  Lee Stringer. Find out who he is.  Vonnegut discovered him.  That man, Vonnegut said, writes like an angel.

I want tow in this because I feel for all of the displaced people in this country.  And I don’t know what to do for them, apart from generate publicity, and make a webpage.  My primary goal is to create cross cultural charity.  Japan will commit to caring about Australians if Australians commit to caring about Japan.  And trying to do something.  I complained about Japan a lot while I was here.  But if I go back to Australia, I don’t want to say anything bad.  Not like the gaijin who get out of here and then suddenly tell the world all everything they really think.  I’m thinking of a couple of documentaries.  There’s no courage in that.  You can’t change anything from a distance.  This is tricky inside my head.  The balance between being apathetic and being positive.  I don’t understand it completely.

So I want to win this competition, but at least I can enter it.  There’s the good bit.  I can write a story I know.  I want it to feel like a yarn.  I will write more than one story.


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