Perhaps I Shouldn’t Ask for Too Much More from My Life?

In the end, I couldn’t rein in my excessive spending on PixAI or the money I was wasting on alcohol, so I reluctantly decided to sell some of my shares.

Since they’re worth more than I originally paid, I suppose it counts as taking profits. (I didn’t buy them through a NISA account, so some of the proceeds will go toward taxes.)

For the moment, I can rest easy because I’ve kept the money for my trip to Germany in a time deposit. Still, I can’t let my guard down when there’s no telling how much fuel prices may rise.

I was born during Japan’s economic bubble, in a country that had remained at peace since the Pacific War.

Even now, as the number of working poor continues to rise in Japan, people like us still maintain a reasonably high standard of living.

I ought to give back as much of that good fortune as I can, but my own weaknesses make it difficult.

Even if I tried to give back through physical labor, my mental endurance is far below that of most people.

(If I were told to clear rubble under the scorching sun in earthquake-stricken Kumamoto, I’d probably give up almost immediately and lash out.)

No matter how little my intelligence may differ from that of someone without a disability, perhaps a developmental disability is still a developmental disability.

There is a well-known experiment called the “marshmallow test.”

It is usually given to four-year-old children:

“If you can leave the marshmallow in front of you untouched for a certain amount of time, you’ll get two marshmallows.

But if you eat it, you’ll get only one.”

It is supposed to test a child’s impulsiveness and self-control.

My mother says that I passed the test when I was four, but could she be remembering it wrong? Maybe I actually failed.

After all, even now I can’t control how much I spend on PixAI and alcohol.

(Though I do try to use my spare time to practice on StudySapuri.)

Sometimes I wonder whether I should stop asking for so much more from my life.

At a recent gathering for people with developmental disabilities, one of the others said he wanted to live a long life. I feel differently:

“If I can live a life that feels true to me—especially one like that of a samurai at the end of the Edo period—I would rather have a life that is short but full.”

That is how I see it. After all, even during the peaceful Edo period, average life expectancy was forty-eight, and more than half of all children died before reaching adulthood.

The times are very different now, of course. Even so, I want to keep thinking about how best to make use of the life I have.

Come to think of it, I haven’t prepared for my trip to Germany either.

I haven’t bought a plug adapter for Germany, and I don’t have enough T-shirts ready.

In the short term, I need to take care of those preparations.

To control my impulses and relieve stress, I have been trying the following:

“Take my time looking closely at the artwork I’ve commissioned from that person.”

I have been giving it a try, but… I can’t really tell whether it’s working.

The Seedance video-generation system has been upgraded to version 2.5, and I’d like to try it—but I’m short of money right now.

Perhaps I should put all of this aside until after my trip to Germany.