Parallax

Since I was young, the right side of my face and the left side of my face were vastly different, so people used to talk about it. They said my face looked completely different depending on the angle they viewed it from. A parallax (視差) had occurred.

The fact that what you see changes depending on the direction you look. That had tortured me immensely ever since I was a child. My jaw, shifted to the left, elongated my right jaw line and pulled the muscles on the right side of my face, making my right eye smaller. On the other hand, the left side of my face, which received barely any tension, had loose, soft flesh, and my left eye had no choice but to be larger.

How many people in the entire world have lived wearing dental braces for six years? Four and a half years of orthodontic treatment. Even after all that, it barely managed to push back my underbite; the facial bones had already been warped. Due to these twisted facial bones, my right nasal cavity became extremely narrow, making it difficult to breathe, and to sleep, I always had to lie on my side just so I could breathe through my left nostril.

Although I now live having named my company after Parallax and creating products under the name of Parallax, it occurred to me that to me, parallax is both a tragedy and an identity. By looking at the world from a different angle, I sought a different perspective. And looking through that different perspective must have driven me toward values and a life different from those of others. In that way, the small distortion left traces of a struggle to counteract that very distortion, and those traces of struggling have been proving that I am alive.

I want the company named Parallax to become my identity. Parallax. I cannot view the world in the same way others do. Everything looks crooked to me; what others find cool looks utterly uncool. What is claimed to be normal looks abnormal, and things called abnormal often look normal to me. Someone tells me this perspective of mine is fresh, while another tells me this perspective of mine is strange. A person like me is also a subject of parallax. Depending on the direction they look, they will evaluate me in completely different ways—as a bizarre figure, an ordinary figure, or an extraordinary figure.

I do not wish for the perspectives on me to converge into a single thought. I merely hope that those who observe me see the different facets of who I am. To show those who think highly of me that I also possess qualities that will disappoint them; to show those disappointed in me that I also possess qualities that will look good to them; to show those who feel I am extraordinary the ordinariness I carry; and to show those who think of me as ordinary the extraordinariness I possess.

A great human? An insignificant human? An ordinary human? A remarkable human? No. I am simply a human being. One with many facets.

And that applies not just to me, but to everyone. No human being possesses only a single facet—whether remarkable, great, ordinary, or extraordinary. A single evaluation cannot fully contain that life. It is just that among countless facets, the glowing parts and the dark parts appear differently depending on the angle.

I accept parallax. I wonder if you can do the same. The fact that someone has no choice but to see only your bad side. The fact that someone else can see nothing but your beautiful side.