optimism

i like the damp of gray days, and how it brings dull edges.
the light never shines too bright, so i have no fear of it shining on me.
i schlup around in the small rivers that gather along the curb and smirk at the dead leaves that collect on the toe of my shoe.
i feel like i've been let in on a secret,
that the planet and universe can have ugly days too.
i smell the wet cement and the aroma of refreshed grime, and want to dress myself in it, like armor.
i want to wear everyone else's misery, ruined shoes, forgotten umbrellas, and too thin coat as an advertisement,
to remind everyone that life sucks.
in little moments, as you feel the water seep into your shoe, or in large ones, as you skid across three lanes of traffic, and in both instances, you lament the loss of your innocence and arrogance.
it's all so humbling when we realize we're human.

then the earth dries up, and the blinding light returns.
how can i smirk at this? where are the puddles to stomp in?
where are the dumb people who surge forward in life, on rainy days, only to fail miserably?
where is my scale of justice?
the sun ironically,
washes all of that away...

then i find that the scales have been leveled,
and shit,
i have to carry my own weight without the security of everyone else's bad day.

so then where i can i find my comfort?

i've found that the sun doesn't burn so much, but rather it warms.
i've found that i can look up, without tripping over things (thanks ani).

i've found the beauty of my beloved's hand wrapped around mine.
i've found the joy in making my sister laugh so hard, without abandon.
i've found the beauty of making others feel at ease, because i understand...
i've rediscovered that writing is cathartic,
whether by pen or key.
i've rediscovered that thing that i felt being 5 years old...

being giddy at putting on my "ballet" after church,
listening to the classical music play, as i wished mightily for gracefulness in my undershirt and tights.

being excited by the unknown, like on christmas morning,
and realizing that miracles do happen,
as i opened up my cabbage patch doll...

being excited that i've lived this long,
despite all my idiocy and stubborness,
and that happiness still lies beyond...

being excited to honestly, to really know,
that i have a chance.

i may not be a ballerina/firefighter/doctor,
but i'm still here,
and i can still dream.
and even if it is somewhat deferred,
it doesn't have to leave me.

optimism: n. 1: a doctrine that this world is the best possible world. 2: an inclination to put the most favorable construction upon actions and events or to anticipate the best possible outcome.

let that sink in for a minute...

i can comprehend what those words mean,
but more importantly, i've made a choice to live by them.
the alternative,
is well,
somewhat in the gray,
and i've found that the sun feels so much better.
besides, i hate ruining a good pair of shoes...