Happy Life
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- Scars…? - Genza scratches his head in confusion, then notices something. - Ah, no, why would they? It doesn't change anything, on the contrary, it's experience that makes us who we are. Sometimes you can't do without it.
He rubbed his cheek, where his own scar was visible.
- One man, whom I greatly respect, told me about some kind of overseas thing, what was it called? Some funny word, it's on the tip of my tongue. Sasabi... or something like Wasabi. It's a principle where a person values something not for its artificial perfection, which is just a facade for those around them, but on the contrary, for its true nature, which may be imperfect in some ways, but at the same time is genuine, and evokes in the soul a special, careful awareness of its fragile beauty in the face of the world's imperfections. Well, for example, like a flower that has grown out of stone and so on. This is a popular philosophical theme on the islands.
Feeling somewhat embarrassed by what he had just said, which was quite uncharacteristic of him, he quickly adds:
- And you know, I recently had the pleasure of talking to an advocate of perfection, who declared the only correct and ideal view of things, one step left or right and you're shot. But I didn't feel any beauty, or sincerity, or even their own human emotions there, only a dry, cold lecture from a textbook, in an attempt to present themselves in the best possible light through wordplay, and without any real action. Heh. I'd choose an honest "Hey, you!" a hundred times out of a hundred.
He rubbed his cheek, where his own scar was visible.
- One man, whom I greatly respect, told me about some kind of overseas thing, what was it called? Some funny word, it's on the tip of my tongue. Sasabi... or something like Wasabi. It's a principle where a person values something not for its artificial perfection, which is just a facade for those around them, but on the contrary, for its true nature, which may be imperfect in some ways, but at the same time is genuine, and evokes in the soul a special, careful awareness of its fragile beauty in the face of the world's imperfections. Well, for example, like a flower that has grown out of stone and so on. This is a popular philosophical theme on the islands.
Feeling somewhat embarrassed by what he had just said, which was quite uncharacteristic of him, he quickly adds:
- And you know, I recently had the pleasure of talking to an advocate of perfection, who declared the only correct and ideal view of things, one step left or right and you're shot. But I didn't feel any beauty, or sincerity, or even their own human emotions there, only a dry, cold lecture from a textbook, in an attempt to present themselves in the best possible light through wordplay, and without any real action. Heh. I'd choose an honest "Hey, you!" a hundred times out of a hundred.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
