I’m not a stupid person. I’m not naive. I know the state of things. I know the ugliest parts and I’ve been to hell and back. The world is in disarray and there is so much ugliness. And fucking covid… But still…. I choose to see the beauty in the world.
I know, I KNOW, this probably sounds like the rantings of a delusional single parent. And maybe that’s what I am — Someone desperately grasping at the idea that there’s hope — that things will get better. Maybe that’s just what I need to tell myself for the sake of raising Peanut.
Hope is an interesting concept. When I was younger and people would use the word hope, I would always respond with, “hope is the root of heartache.” From an early age I had hoped for too many things — Simple little things I saw the rest of the world take for granted. And with each hope came the inevitable heartbreak. And with each heartbreak you would think there would be inevitable hate in my heart. But with each heartbreak, I held on tighter to hope.
There is this great song by BT called “the only constant is change,” where he says, “Still a hopelessly hopeful wounded child seeking wonderful.” It was like he was describing me (and a lot of others, I’m sure). Humor me and listen to it, Reader. It’s one of the few songs I can feel.
I have no idea what the future holds. Good, bad, ugly. But… I choose to see the beauty.