because sometimes i want to shake you until you stop looking down and see the sun
i know the world has not dealt you the fairest cards, and the universe always has a way of kicking you in the balls when you are already down. time always seems to poke your raw wounds and never seems to heal them like it promises. so you live by practicalities and the laws of pragmatism because another kick in the balls won’t make you stronger.
you do not dare to want because you chose to be ‘realistic’. but you’re not being realistic, you’re just tying the strings to your own straight jacket. you say you want better, but you settle for sleeping with frustration, keeping company with the mundane, and dining with whores in dark caves. yet someone like you should be dining in the company of angels.
you are so used to being contained in boxes labelled situation, circumstance and memories of past ‘failures’, that you’ve become afraid to come out and dine with hope when invited, and have long conversations with optimism when she knocks at the door, wearing flowers in her hair and smelling of daisies and lavender – even though you chose to believe that you have no fear. you seem so afraid to look up and look ahead, because you won’t dare to dream up your future. darling, that’s my diagnosis of you.
so my dear, i’m begging you to make optimism your prozac and give it a try, because misery and dejected hopelessness were not tailored to suit your shape. prove to me that you’re as strong as the weights you bench press imply because optimism in the face of darkness is not for the weak. for goodness sake, live in your mind for a moment and begin dreaming up the blueprints of your reality. build houses on the points of mountains, over-looking the seas. build sky scrapers that are kissed daily by clouds. let go of the semantics and the practicalities, and for once, dammit, dare to dream.