A Shout Out To You Know Who You Are.

Most people I know irritate me because they fall so obviously on one side or the other. The ones who are cynical and unhappy are so because they've been scarred by the lack in their lives; the lack of parental guidance(whatever that means) or the lack of money or both. The ones who look on the brightside, generally, simply haven't seen the dark side. The worse ones, really, are the ones who are cynical and have yet to experience true tragedy. I can't take them seriously, but I'm still afraid for what will happen to them when they find out that their lives so far have been all sunshine and lollipops but all they got out of it were shit pies and raindrops. Is this really all we get? Are the only choices optimism or cynicism? bright eyes or jaded glances?

My year has been a diverse sampling of tidbits torn from the worst events a person can go through in their life. It's as though the universe wants to prove right everyone who ever called me, however indirectly, a fool for being an optimist. They told me that one day the shine of my eyes would dull when I realized how harsh reality could be. They told me I would stop looking at my misfortunes as opportunities to learn and grow and start seeing them for what they were-events to color my world in pessism, paranoia, and the inability to love. Even after everything, though it becomes a little harder to say each time, I still believe they're wrong.

Just because I'm an optimist doesn't mean I'm a fool, or that I'm naive, or that I don't know what's going on around me. I'm all too aware, I just choose to be happy. Is there some kind of sick reason I should be unhappy? Shit happens! The best part of being human is the ability to adapt to situations as they come and not simply fall apart and blame the world for every ailment I have to deal with.

Don't tell me to get over whatever rose colored glasses I'm wearing just because you can only see in black in white. Don't tell me not to stop and smell the roses just because you forgot what flowers are.

Fuck you for telling me I was only happy because I didn't know the horrors of reality.

Fuck you for thinking I couldn't see straight through your facade of maturity.

Fuck you for mistaking cynicism for wisdom.

And, especially, fuck you for thinking I was weak.