The Curse of the 22nd Year
Somewhere out there, there’s a cup of coffee waiting for me. But with my luck, it probably has someone else’s name on it.
Pessimist-noun-a person who habitually sees or anticipates the worst or is disposed to be gloomy.
Is this always a bad thing? If you expect the worse, and the worse doesn’t happen, then you get a positive outcome! If you aim high, you’re just setting up for disappointment.
As if yesterday I looked up at the sun and with one breath, blew it out; the world was turning in my favor, but I spoke and now sit in the hollow I harvested. Looking to things bright: the future is still unwritten; and yet wobble further into the dark swirls of my mind to be asphyxiated by the clouds.
Peach, plum, pear.
The sun will rise tomorrow.
Winter will melt to Spring into blazing Summer to Fall back to the frosty chill.
Fact.
I will not stay for long. If I am sure of anything in this life, it is that change is inevitable. Like God’s alluring symphony crescendoing and diminishing. He is not boring. The chorus I hear now is a beautiful melody telling me terrible things. This too shall pass. Like holding my breath underwater. I have to admit, that I kind of like it when I do.
