Shū Tsukiyama (月山 習) | ɢᴏᴜʀᴍᴇᴛ (
preybeforemeals) wrote2014-12-09 10:23 am
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Entry tags:
- !ic,
- *video,
- @carmen sandiego,
- @chihiro fujisaki,
- @frank archer,
- @kazuichi banjou,
- @labrys,
- @makoto naegi,
- @naki,
- all roads lead to hedonism,
- and so no one should criticize me,
- fourth wall was haaaaard,
- gentleman of wealth and taste,
- he left escapism hell for this,
- his europhilia is showing,
- his goddamn life right now,
- holy shit is that character development,
- ikea is swedish satan,
- no seriously fuck ikea,
- passion!!!,
- slightly less colorblind for now,
- so saith beethoven to my fucking soul,
- surely this bodes well,
- surprisingly well-adjusted today,
- this is gonna go immediately tits-up,
- today we are tranquil for once,
- tsukiyama no,
- vague questions are the best questions,
- wheeee
003. [Video]
[Well, good morning, Johto – it seems like someone is actually up fairly early for once.
The room he's in is a bit on the sparsely-furnished side, though it's large enough to warrant that so far, maybe; it looks like there may have been an attempt at a bookshelf somewhere back along the far wall, though it's a bit difficult to see – either it's being slowly done by the world's most inept carpenter or someone has given up on fighting whatever the Pokéworld equivalent of Ikea is for the time being, but either way, at the very least it's slightly out of focus and not...too distracting.
What is in focus would be the keys of a piano, the natural light from the windows across the room spilling in; the device is set up far enough away that someone can be seen sitting at said keys, his hands resting lightly on them. The usual bright colors in his wardrobe are at least a little toned-down today – he seems to be wearing his trainer class whatnot this morning – and when he moves the bench a bit closer, that's when his face can actually be seen in the shot.
He sets his hands down, repositioning them a few times as though working out what he wants to play for the time being; what he settles on is decidedly happier than what he usually chooses, but he's always been partial to Beethoven's work.
He doesn't smile when he plays, which is perhaps a bit odd given that he's almost always smiling; rather, he looks focused, in that sort of way that people do when they've practiced a piece to an extent where they can find their musically-based zone.
He speaks as he plays eventually, his hands running light over the keys and his volume raised a little so he can be heard.]
It's impressive how much change a year can bring about, isn't it?
[And he does smile a bit when he says it, though it's fleeting in favor of closed eyes and that strangely focused look again.]
I haven't been here nearly that long, and yet I'm finding that I'm in a different place than I was at this time last year, as far as "back home" is concerned. But that's only natural, isn't it – after all, if I'm going to continue to experience this dream from which I don't have much say in waking, I might as well make something of it.
It's time I returned to doing what I've done in the past, I think. Finding my own happiness a piacere, instead of waiting for this place to hand it to me, instead of relying on others to provide...and most importantly, finding something that speaks to me here, something that can ignite my passion just as much as that which I had back there...
[He shakes his head a bit.]
I don't know if such a thing even exists in this world. But in that case, I suppose the...challenge, the driving force, would be seeking it out in the first place, n'est-ce pas?
[His words find a pause then, though his hands do not.]
I wonder where next year will find me...ideally speaking, amore, where do you think it would find you?
The room he's in is a bit on the sparsely-furnished side, though it's large enough to warrant that so far, maybe; it looks like there may have been an attempt at a bookshelf somewhere back along the far wall, though it's a bit difficult to see – either it's being slowly done by the world's most inept carpenter or someone has given up on fighting whatever the Pokéworld equivalent of Ikea is for the time being, but either way, at the very least it's slightly out of focus and not...too distracting.
What is in focus would be the keys of a piano, the natural light from the windows across the room spilling in; the device is set up far enough away that someone can be seen sitting at said keys, his hands resting lightly on them. The usual bright colors in his wardrobe are at least a little toned-down today – he seems to be wearing his trainer class whatnot this morning – and when he moves the bench a bit closer, that's when his face can actually be seen in the shot.
He sets his hands down, repositioning them a few times as though working out what he wants to play for the time being; what he settles on is decidedly happier than what he usually chooses, but he's always been partial to Beethoven's work.
He doesn't smile when he plays, which is perhaps a bit odd given that he's almost always smiling; rather, he looks focused, in that sort of way that people do when they've practiced a piece to an extent where they can find their musically-based zone.
He speaks as he plays eventually, his hands running light over the keys and his volume raised a little so he can be heard.]
It's impressive how much change a year can bring about, isn't it?
[And he does smile a bit when he says it, though it's fleeting in favor of closed eyes and that strangely focused look again.]
I haven't been here nearly that long, and yet I'm finding that I'm in a different place than I was at this time last year, as far as "back home" is concerned. But that's only natural, isn't it – after all, if I'm going to continue to experience this dream from which I don't have much say in waking, I might as well make something of it.
It's time I returned to doing what I've done in the past, I think. Finding my own happiness a piacere, instead of waiting for this place to hand it to me, instead of relying on others to provide...and most importantly, finding something that speaks to me here, something that can ignite my passion just as much as that which I had back there...
[He shakes his head a bit.]
I don't know if such a thing even exists in this world. But in that case, I suppose the...challenge, the driving force, would be seeking it out in the first place, n'est-ce pas?
[His words find a pause then, though his hands do not.]
I wonder where next year will find me...ideally speaking, amore, where do you think it would find you?
text;
the soldier from the mountainsthat guy from Tohjo Falls, the Bad Cop™ to her Good Cop, the Italian-speaking fashion disaster who'd punched a guy so hard he died and then turned his attention to the next one.And he's playing the piano and talking about passion. It's sort of surreal.
She's not one to put her face up on the Network, which is fortunate in terms of not being immediately recognized as that person he'd seen at Tohjo, himself; the drawback is, he might not want to stop playing for the sake of texting someone, and with no sound she won't be able to hear the music anyway.
Hnnngh.]
"Happiness is not something ready-made. It comes from your own actions." — the Dalai Lama.
It sounds as though you're already on the right track to happiness, yourself.
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So! Hello there.]
I've known for quite some time how to find happiness for myself, actually. I'm not concerned about finding it again, either - it's just been a while since I've actively sought it out, and this world has changed the ways in which I can really do that.
The thing I'm still unable to find is probably closer to satisfaction than happiness. Anyone can find happiness if they try to do so...satisfaction tends to be another story.
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Happiness, on the other hand, is something best found in fleeting things. It's not something we're meant to have for a long period of time, and assuming that we will is just setting ourselves up for disappointment. That isn't to say I think life is inherently depressing! It shouldn't be that, either. But I think it's better to accept that we'll find happiness in temporary things, because all things are temporary by their very nature - nothing is eternal, so why try to find our happiness in something that doesn't exist?
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So happiness might come from many sources, but satisfaction is generally only attained through one — finding the thing that makes your life complete, or leaves you content with it overall.
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Why do you ask?
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But that might just be a difference in preference, in terms of our ways of seeing the world.
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Which would bring me to quoting the Socratic paradox - ipse se nihil scire id unum sciat - but doing that would in itself be an act of arrogance, wouldn't it?
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And then tell them so?
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When it comes to arrogance, though, it's hard to deny that course of action ranks higher than most other entries on the list.
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What about you, however - would you say you've found whatever can grant you that sort of satisfaction I was talking about?
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As my life goes, though, I think I've hit what I would've considered my "satisfaction" twice now, and both times I ended up expanding my worldview in search of a new one to pursue.
So maybe I never really met your definition of satisfaction at all — or maybe I'm just not very good at sitting still once I think I have it.
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I'd be fine if it's not, I think.
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Do you have to surrender the old thing when moving forward to pursue the new?
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I should hope not, though, since I'm not really one to like surrendering anything.
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They're all things I don't think I'd feel complete without, and also things that, in some sense, can never be taken away from me. I suppose I just wasn't able to limit myself to just one.
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The reason I say it's not something that can be taken away from me isn't referring so much to the position itself; it's the accomplishment that brought with it my satisfaction.
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I think the closest I've come to finding it myself was something that I know for a fact I can't have.