It’s quite hard to believe, that there is a silver lining to all this. It’s hard to keep faith when your body keeps telling you different. But, what the heck, for as long as I am made to live why not be an optimist? Optimists have it easy, they’re happy all the time and spread happiness too. Us pessimists, we have to stick together, because we are the ones who save the optimist so much pain. But I’ve begun to see their side of things. While we pessimists go looking for a conspiracy behind every second bush, optimists are able to make it by on the worst days, knowing they will get out of it. We, pessimists, believe we will forever be stuck at rock bottom and never try and get out of it.
I was born a pessimist, a tiny little existentialist. Imagine a toddler thinking that the glass is half-empty. That toddler was me. I was always on guard when the rumors about 2012 began I was the kid keeping the countdown. But, the optimists won that battle too. Imagine the faith required to stop the world from ending. The first optimist I met was my sister, ever looking at the bright side and never looking at rocks as obstacles. If it takes energy to be negative all the time, imagine trying to be positive. It’s impossible. Somewhere I know it was pessimism that helped bring me to my depression. While I thank it for helping me accept it, it didn’t help me fight it.
My sister ever the optimist always believed in the good, not only for herself but for me too. Imagine that, between her problems, her ‘adult’ problems and my ‘kid’ problems she kept the faith for both of us. Why couldn’t I keep the faith for myself? Maybe I read about anarchism too early, maybe Sartre wasn’t a thirteen-year old’s cup of tea. If only I had discussed it with the right people. I let myself believe there was nothing to life and I didn’t have friends to tell me I was wrong. I believed that the people who could calculate and conduct experiments would forever be happy, and would perhaps make the most money. But, I knew a little secret, we breathe for a bit, rush around achieving goals but ultimately I will die, so will they, and we’d be square.
The idea that there was no pot of gold waiting at the end of rainbow excited me. It excited me until it tired me out. There was nothing worth doing, nothing worth working hard for. Most important of all, there was nothing to look forward to. Society tried telling me different, society told me I couldn’t escape it. Society turned into the monster and along with society so did I. There’s something sinister in the way time and life changes people. I grew up forgot my novels, and hit the textbooks big time. I realised I would like to sway the world with my pen, knowing it wouldn’t be easy. I had to learn to be optimistic, and maybe that’s where I failed. I loved my pessimism until good things happened to me.
When the good things came, I wanted more and more until nothing satisfied me. Optimists appreciate life for what it is. They don’t go looking for good things, they are happy either way. That’s just not something I haven’t done and don’t know how to do. The faith that things will get better, keeps them going and maybe there’s magic there. Maybe it will do me more good than medication.
Only the optimistic make it by
With love and light
When it rains they revel the water
When it shines they smile
And the clouds are their friends
Not worrying about who they might meet
They’ll love you for what you do
See the good in you
I’m not one of them
But I lie in awe of them
Like stars that skirt the moon
I wish I was them
But a million lightyears away
I stand in humble fascination
Pointing them out in rhymes
In different times
Drawing on their power
To hope and to keep faith
In this world and everyone
A power so strong
Enlightens these stars
And their hope is where my dreams start.