I met him while producing 'Comedy King' some time ago.
He was a manga artist and screenwriter, now an illustrator.
I attended the wedding reception of Takeshi Numata, a friend from those days.
Perhaps I misjudged the time, but I ended up participating in the wedding ceremony itself, which was originally intended only for friends and family.
Alone.
And what was happening there was the quintessential 'the ceremony' of a typical wedding venue.
Stunned, I found this reality utterly baffling.
Why would this still young couple in their thirties so readily accept such a formalized, systematized ceremony? Like circus animals, driven left and right at the whim of a trainer, whipped and controlled...
To me, it all seemed like a comedy.
I was there, squirming like someone unable to reach an itchy spot on their back.
But, but, but, such an infantile allergic reaction...
Even if it was a well-crafted comedy to me, the assembled guests accepted everything that unfolded with unanimous agreement. No one, not even in the slightest, thought or felt it was strange or peculiar.



Ah, yes, the Japanese are a people who do not resist.
They are people who do not object to turning red when dyed in vermilion.
Valuing appearances, they dutifully take out their bothersome sorted trash at the designated time and place, and then the downstream construction companies, following tradition, use up their allocated budgets by the end of the fiscal year, creating traffic jams at this very moment, in this very location? Of course, the callous superiors who pretend not to know any of this, and the diligent people who, while remaining loyal to their will, work hard without complaint, paying their taxes diligently from the money they earned with their sweat and tears, without a word of protest. This is the country of Japan, isn't it?

I cried. I cried along with them. I felt ashamed of myself in the face of the ordinary sensibilities of the kind, righteous, and gentle people of this nation. Ashamed of myself, who only complains and does nothing in the end. This is a gathering place for beautiful people, sharing small happiness together.
Sensibilities like mine are nothing but wicked dregs.
If you're going to object, think carefully first.
From next time.
So let's aim for the alternative!
Let's aim for another kind of kindness, warmth, and beauty.
From next time.

I always say 'from next time',

Is that so?
As I was leaving, the groom himself, and at the reception, the groom's mother,
Were so delighted that this wicked dreg had attended.
It is truly a blessing.

There are as many kinds of happiness as there are people.
Those who laugh at others' misfortune are wrong. Those who laugh at others' happiness,
Will never be happy.
Such thoughts crossed my mind.

Truly, it is a blessing.
To be so pleased just by my attendance,
Even if it makes me feel ashamed,
I should not refuse congratulatory speeches from now on.
People are valued when they are needed.

No matter how systematized a ceremony of happiness may become,
If happiness can be infused into that system,
The tedious systems will eventually disappear.
And all that will remain will be the deep affection of the two people striving for happiness...
The wicked dregs, having thus completed their confession and baptism,
Finally become ordinary, small dregs.
Small dregs. That's fine, isn't it?
We are happy just to be alive.

We can only live in the 'here and now'.
We can only feel happiness in the 'here and now'.
To become happy, it is important to be able to cherish the present moment. (Mitsuo Aida) 'Ningen Da Mon'.

'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' The New Translation of the Bible

'It is a life lived only once.
Therefore, think only of this present moment.
The past cannot be reached, the future is unknown.
Leave what happens after death to religion.'
Tenpo Nakamura

'The best way to ensure future happiness
Is to be as happy as possible today.'
Eliot

'The most important thing is the state of mind in this very moment.' - Jushō Rōnin

That's right, the yellow handkerchief of happiness, anti-nuclear movement,

The yellow handkerchief of happiness, what was that story again?







← Diary-T 231-236