I Want to Have a Place I Can Call My Own

I want to have a place I can call my own. It really doesn’t matter wherever it is, as far as I can feel relaxed and find just a few people there who I can talk to. The rent increase of this time more realistically than ever is making me about finding such a place. Last night, I went to CC as my work schedule became a little easier. And I moved on to Y though I’m not sure there’s any compelling reason to do so except a drunkard’s impulsiveness. There, I was talking about just such an idea, asking how much it would cost to buy a small condominium in the Philippines. Vietnam is another possibility while, with the country being socialist, foreigners are restricted to own properties, especially landed ones. I need a Vietnamese wife.

I even saw a dream this early morning wherein I was visiting the Philippines to see some apartments. At one of them, signs at the complex were all written in Japanese, and I was thinking this place would not be for me. And when I was up at a few stories and looking at the small tenant apartment building, I witnessed dark grey smoke started spewing out of one of the two units on the highest floor with pop-pop sound.

This afternoon, I was doing tentative research of properties in the Philippines, Vietnam and Thailand. It seems that some small places are within my financial reach. Then I remembered what almost happened to me a year ago, a Romanian fraud.

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I asked L at Y to buy me a 4D lottery, my very first time. I asked to buy it for me because I didn’t even know how to buy it. I chose 6338. Then tonight L sent me a message that said, “it was 8336.”