Dreamy Eyes and Wet Smiles

Like a street-dwelling orphan trying to ignore the groans of a belly gnawed raw with hunger as he gazes upon a restaurant’s feasting patrons, I find myself gazing at the ready optimism of the ever bubbly optimists. With eyes keen I have watched their dreamy eyes and wet smiles pulling them to certain victory while I’m filled with paralysing despair at the calamity that leers at every corner and failures past that dodge my footsteps. Ironic, is it not, how though we stand next to each other, they bask in sunlight almost as bright as their smiles while I cower from angry clouds.
I have turned to happy songs and hidden myself in stories and ribaldry yet I cannot shake the chill that crawls ever so steadily up my spine for when the songs are silent, the last pages turned and voices too hoarse for laughter, I know the brief respite is over, the clouds must roll on back and I must return to my cowering. Yet I turn to look longingly at the victorious optimists around me, their smiles seem naive yet their achievements are undeniable. The dark melancholy swirling within me is as palpable as the seamless calm of my exterior; I stand on my feet even though I am prostrate, defeated by angry clouds that only I can see.
The most miserable people, I am told, make the best comedians. What does that say about comedians? Are they just laughing to hide eyes that cannot cry or their chuckles are really cries of pain dissolved in mirth? Does it have more to say about the dysfunction in our society, that we are tickled by misery and entertained by deepest sorrow? Forgive my digression.
What to do? What to do? My heart is filled with longing, longing for the the better tomorrow I believe in to spill over into my feelings, dispel the clouds and drain the melancholy. Tired from the disappointment of the too brief bursts of sunshine, I long for the steady flame of enthusiasm, I too wish for dreamy eyes and wet smiles pulling me to certain victory. Memory reaches out to words scribbled on a screen and etched in the back of my mind: hope is the deliberate decision to seek out the good while acknowledging the bad.
The sad and the bad will loom large in my mind, if not always then for a long time – this is my burden. Nonetheless, I must choose to look for the good and work towards it. Though others seem do this with the least of effort, I must accept that I am not one of them – I must pull against inclination with all I have, so help me God! With painful steps must my journey be completed. Oh for a companion to help me carry the load but with or without, carry it I must. Even if tears may flow, my steps I bend toward the summit without faltering, for tears do not muscle dissolve. I too will be victorious for God is my help, He makes it not effortless but possible.
“Deep in my heart, I do believe, we shall overcome some day!”…. With tearful eyes and victorious smiles.

photo credit: Paulo Etxeberria Leporantz via photopin (license)


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I bleed ink

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