“The world is such a beautiful place…and such a sad place."

"Did you just say the world is a beautiful place and a sad place?” Tammy said.


Last night I stepped outside into the dark and unexpectedly burst into tears at the sight of Venus shining bright and unblinkingly in the cold night sky, the third time in two days that such a thing had happened because of the sheer unexpected beauty of something.

Today I learned there are two types of optimism. There is the type that breeds complacency, the type that whispers in your ear to to sit back because “Everything will be fine,” and “Everything will work out eventually.”

And then there is the type that burns a fire in your blood. The type where your hope is born from the knowledge that things can be improved when you work hard. When we work hard. This is the kind that refuses to sit back, to let time pass and watch the chips fall. This is the type that fulfills its own prophecies, because that is how prophecies are meant to be fulfilled.

Months ago I eschewed this first type of optimism and with it any sort of hope for a better world. Luckily today for no reason whatsoever I realized that the second type of optimism exists.

(I believe in God.)

In the mornings when I wake up sometimes my mind is filled with puns or epiphanies and sometimes it is filled with nothing at all.


Tammy: "Do you think the world is more of a sad place or a beautiful place?"

Me, without a doubt: "Beautiful."