i used to waste my time dreaming of being alive...

"I used to know this boy who took notes in a book
But he ripped out all the pages before I got a look
At all the words he scribbled at all the lines he filled
But the ink stains on his fingers told me he was skilled
At capturing a feeling that most of us just miss
The simple pain of living with goodbyes on our lips."
-Anonymous (?)

perpetual optimism is for the propogators. the ones that just want the best. hopefuls, i suppose. totally unwilling to submit to reality. the ones that believe that seeing the blue sky behind the clouds, no matter how thick and dense they appear to be, is the drive behind life.

sure, we pine for that kind of idealism. the unattainable, everlasting sunny day.

but what if the sun is just an illusion?

what if there is no other way to see it - what's here is here, what's gone is gone?

what if the clouds never clear?

then, my dear, we make due.

we make due, we clear time, we catch the rain in our umbrellas and enjoy it for what it is.

at least then, we know what the forecast is, and we wont be blindfolded and blindsided when the sun doesn't come out again.