To me, that is exactly why the warmth is important.
We are not the center of this world. The Totality doesn’t-- can’t-- see us, doesn’t-- can’t-- notice us. It’s a wonder, but it’s not here for us. It doesn’t care whether we understand it or not. Why would it? The spirits and gods are metaphors. Nothing’s looking after us. We’re not even real, as separate beings, ourselves.
But our subjective experiences of this world are very “real” to us. We can suffer. We can bring suffering on others, who can bring it on us, too.
You ask me why I limit the limitless. In fact, I don’t-- why would I? It would do no good if I did. The Totality is the Totality. It needs no purpose but itself.
If you’re okay with suffering, then, so be it. But if you bring it to others, and if others object, and respond, you won’t have much reason to complain. The Totality isn’t looking out for you, either.
We’re in this world together.
“Killing your master” symbolically normally means bringing new insight, “killing” the person they were before you met, not leaving. Everyone has more to learn.
I’m a little relieved you didn’t mean that literally, though. That’s something I don’t want to learn I have in common with a lot of people.
For myself, though, I’m guilty. I’m a kinslayer, Ms. Tsukiyo.
I had my reasons. I even know what they were, and there are worse things in this world. In time, my crime, like all crimes, like all human affairs, will be lost in the sea of time like grains of dust in the desert. In an absolute sense, you’re completely correct if you say it doesn’t matter.
The bizarre law of the capsuleer seems to agree: what’s one little murder in a sea of blood? I can’t even remember my home anymore, or what I did there. Justice doesn’t exist in this world.
But it matters to my community. It matters to my family. It matters to me.
I’ll never set foot on Achura again. To live in exile, with no memory of my home, seems the least I can do to apologize to Grandfather.
It isn’t enough. But I’m not quite so riven by guilt as to want to suffer what maybe I should, for I crime I don’t remember committing.