Scaramouche, Scaramouche

"What's the point in hiding from the fact that we're not infallible beings?"

Thaeron looked back over his shoulder with a faint scowl.

"And who, exactly, set the rule that says we MUST be? Honestly, trying to be perfect is a fools' errand. Trying to live up to every expectation is condemning yourself to the immense desire to go bop your head against a wall. These are not goals that ANYONE can reach. Try to, and all you do is bind yourself more and more to unhappiness. Inevitable unhappiness. The harder we try to be perfect, the less we'll manage it, too. We'll keep on making mistakes - and make more and more as we keep on trying to attain this impossible goal, this shining nebulous dream..."

He snorted.

"We can never always be everything expected of us, you know. No one can. Not even the one who put us here. Not ever. All of us will, at some point in time, sneeze tea out our noses. We will fall up the stairs, lose patience with word puzzles and people, snap at those people, and sometimes be selfish - which isn't always a bad thing, but I digress." A gesture. "Look, we can be just as much blinkered by our hopes and fears as can any human, elf, fae, youma, drow or nu. And you know? The sooner we learn to go 'well, that's just how it is to be a created being - I fouled up this time and I'll make amends and avoid that situation next time' the better."

He was starting to pace a bit now and his voice rose a bit. Not in anger, but - well, when he was passionate about something, it showed.

( iha shaariputra ruupam shuunyataa shuunyataiva ruupam )