You are not the ray of sunshine in my life, but the waist-high dandelion monster in my yard.

Posted: July 17, 2010 in Uncategorized

Recently, I’ve been feeling as down as the stormclouds. It rains almost everyday, and the clouds sink to the ground, forever bloated with their burden. It’s sunny too, of course, but with the heat, the sun seems more  like the kind of guy that steps on his daisies instead of nourishing them. I don’t even know why my attitude has taken such a dive in the dumps.

Maybe there’s too much pressure. The more stressed I get, the louder my allergy & asthma symptoms scream, which is how I feel right now. Textbooks that I have to finish before school starts, a packet of worksheets scrawled over with math, books that need to be read that I don’t know the titles and authors of, learning the Bruch concerto and perfecting the first movement for an audition in a month, even finishing a video game storyline. Blogging, writing, and sketching seem to get lost in the mix of things, and I lose my breaths of air.

I always wonder how some of my friends are so optimistic even when their lives are at a negative apex. It drives me insane sometimes: how can they just look past what’s happening now and believe in something that could never happen? But I don’t treat it with contempt: to be truthful, it’s something I admire, something that seems to simple to grasp, yet I can’t. Like crossing one thumb over another when clasping your hands. One thumb feels normal; the other makes you feel out-of-place. Even when there’s nothing left, they still have at least one positive outlook ingrained into their minds, and I wonder how they expect to succeed with nothing to begin with.

Is it desperation? Is there always a way out?

I don’t understand why flowers are often associated with optimism. Perhaps it is their steady will of survival and doing whatever they can to accomplish their goal of having lived life in a beautiful garden or a crack by the sewer. That they will believe in what they know is perfect for them, sheer living.

Personality, of course, alters everyone differently within the group of optimists in this world. I think that those who are optimistic are wise. Pessimists may be the first ones to accept things, but optimists would be the first ones to move on, from my understanding. Of course, this might not be true; I’m just spectulating and sharing my musings based on stereotypes and real-life people.

I don’t think that optimism is accurately represented as a bouquet among a barren field of dried grass. A sparkly token among dust bunnies. Optimism is beautiful in its own definition of looking upwards, that there is always a way out, always a way to live. And live they do. Optimism is the weeds that pop up in unexpected places, from cracks in the sidewalk to lawn sprinkler to being invaders from your neighbor’s unkempt lawn.

Were we all optimistic at one point in our lives? Could we all be plants? In this way, pessimism & optimism are alike. Neither is absorbed fully with oblivion. Both are bound to us. One way may not be how we think naturally or on impulse, but both allow survival.

Stress-wise, I’ve probably been reading too much depressing dystopian fiction. I should stop reading post-apocalyptic novels and start opening my windows and picking dandy lions for my friends, to remind them who they are in my life.


Writing is a definite cure.  After ten minutes of typing up this post, I feel floaty.

  1. Your Garden says:

    You are not the ray of sunshine in my life, but the waist-high dandelion monster in my yard….

    I found your entry interesting do I’ve added a Trackback to it on my weblog :)…

  2. Your Friend James H. says:

    hahaha I love this. really interesting. love the vocab and how you write the poem.

  3. Jingle says:

    three poetry awards,
    plus two general awards,
    thanks for the contribution!

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