Welcome to HIKOMORI DAYS. I shall record from aroom that hasn't changed since well, America had adifferent president, maybe too.
Seventeen years inside, that's not a lifestyle,that's a subscription ground you forgot to cancel.
Some people call it isolation, we call it freeshipping on every emotion. And now broadcastinglive from a desk, that has seen more instantnoodles than human interaction. This is HIKIKOMORIDAYS.
Earlier, the top was still dripping. I couldn'tchange my routine. I can close the door properlywhen I go upstairs, so it's still a bit open.
I doubted if my parents noticed that sound. They'dcome, but today they were sleeping.
I waited a few minutes, thinking they might hearme on the first floor. As I expected, they didn'tcome.
I knocked on the door and said, the top is stillrunning. Can you turn it off? I waited, becausethey weren't waking up.
I also doubted, maybe it's nothing. Maybe theywere just sleeping. I knocked while going to thebathroom on the first floor, and it took a whilefor them to come.
It took a while for them to come. They work allday, so I can't blame them.
My grandmother on my dad's side said my dad waspathetic, but I think my dad also feels the sameabout his parents.
I woke up at 20.30am, and I studied English, butnow it's 3am. I'm an hour behind my plan. Momentslike this feel frustrating. I wonder what did Ieven spend my time on.
I also get nervous that my English won't beunderstood. Before, I used to worry about breakingforeign rules by mistake and getting arrestedthere.
Weird and anxious that you two follow me around,and sometimes they still do. I've been thinkingabout different cases. I basically just translatemy Japanese into English, so sometimes it feelslike a waste of time.
Even when I practice pronunciation, I wonder, am Idoing this right? But well, at least I can stillbroadcast.
Yesterday, I tried Daisoite. For the first time,it worked well, but it cost half of what I usedbefore.
I wonder if I can go back to the old one.
Like with tofu, if you eat the expensive onefirst, the chopped one doesn't taste good. I knewthat, but maybe I thought it was different, but it's the same soy, so I don't really remember why Ithought that.
Every year, when high school entrance exams come,I get bad memories. I passed the exam, but I didn't feel happy that day.
In my head, I would tell relatives I didn't feelhappy when I passed the exam. I passed, but I didn't feel happy. If I had failed, everything I didwould be a waste.
But I told myself, effort never lies, or theprocess is what matters. I was hiding behind thoseideas, so pressing or failing didn't reallymatter.
Adults say, you passed great, or it's part oflife. If you fail and then you forget in a week,that's convenient. Adults keep telling you thateffort and process matter.
Even checking my morning routine creates tension.For dinner, I expect salted Pacific sole, but gotsalmon instead since I don't eat rice.
Then probably that the whole dry fish would be toosalty. It was a small shock, though logically itdoesn't matter.
I tried several English pronunciation apps, butnone worked. Quiz seemed promising, but I gave upearly.
I felt anxious thinking about previous care. Facilities wondering if there were mostly bedriddenpeople.
My parents only asked if they were hourlyresident, leaving me uncertain. I worried about myphone charging at 50%, even though I just listenedto podcast at night.
Small trouble was still take up my attention.Today I had to change clothes, which shifted myroutine.
I went upstairs around noon, turned off the stove,and now recording from the second floor, it'scold. This house feels like my own universe. I can't understand society contradiction.
Historical figures seem as absolute evil existalongside claims of universal human right.
Watching war report, readers are attacked withoutmoral outrage, yet celebrities saying similarthings would face backlash. I can't comprehendhumanity.
Previously, a religion I joined had a politicianas a special discipline, telling my parents aboutthe controversies upsets them.
They vary appearance and adnotion of justice morethan my perspective.
Modern tools allow great creative work, but I lackartistic talent. I tried learning code, progressedand failed.
I envy neurodivergent people who can expressthemselves through art. Watching idol show, I overanalyze code remarks, linking them to past schoolmemories.
I see people as neurotypes, maybe natural orexceptions. All have companies. I feel alone,always feeling lonely.
People who say everything has meaning and nihilists who say nothing matters are two sides of thesame coin.
I looked into why the U.S. attacks and stationforce in Iran and Iraq. Also studies famousillusion like the sewing in half trick.
I feel stuck on Spanish. It's easy to pronounceand widely spoken, so giving up feels frustrating.
I focus on this podcast, but perfectionism keepschasing pronunciation apps.
I don't share my taste preference. Unseasonedfood, tofu, coffee, jelly, jewelry, even though Ifelt like an oddball, I realize I'm not alone.
I dreamed about school discipline and visiting oldreligious sites. Thinking about the past makes mereflect on my current language learning andinability to master new skills.
I also remember neighbors going out at night,which triggers feelings of inadequacy. Creatingcover art over blogs can be overwhelming.
When I focus intensely, I feel unstable but alsoproductive. Middle school felt stable. Maybe dueto a manic phase followed by a crash, dreams of mygrandmother still affect me.
I enjoy pondering phenomenon UFO and ghost report.Ghosts seem hallucinatory. UFOs are likely reconnaissance aircraft.
I often imagine meeting my best friend at dinner.I think about how to act if they are in a bad moodor telling their parents how much I respect them.I even imagine talking back to the librarian aftergetting in trouble along with some kids.
I also remember how I lied about having agirlfriend in middle school and how things justgot out of control.
Learning English made me realize that Japanesespeech is flat, and English has a lot of realism.This shows our personalities too. Japanese peopletend to think, just give it your all.
Even if it's good, logical English speakers aremore practical and only emphasize the importantpart. I think Japanese people can be a bit sillysometimes, but at least it's safe and the streetsare clean.
I was talking to my parents about why Chibi Maruko-chan doesn't have more movies. I think it's moreinteresting than Doraemon.
I got some old videos of Doraemon and Ultramanfrom a family friend and they are exactly what Ilike. I guess I get along a bit with oldergenerations.
My parents had a miscarriage 10 years before I wasborn, so sometimes I wonder if I was actuallysupposed to be born back then.
I don't understand why people use complicatedwords to explain modern art. If you have somethingto say, just write it down. Music should just beabout beautiful sounds and chords, not some deepmessage in the lyrics linking art to difficultiesthat feel stupid.
People think shut-ins have messy rooms and eatjunk food, but I'm healthy and my routine isstable. My room isn't messy because I don't earnmuch. I feel totally out of sync with both theoutside world and other shut-ins.
My stomach was killing me all afternoon. It'sfrustrating because I don't know why. My parentsand I were talking about turds while watching TV.
She said sometimes looks like pound cake, and eventhough I explained there are different kinds ofturds, they weren't really listening. Ourconversation never quite match up.