I woke this morning to my loneliness.
The attempt here, though foolish it may be, is to solve that. Somehow.
The good news, and you should always strive to find the good news, is the time of year. And despite the bitter cold and impending snow- pipes and drums and fiddles and liquor and pretty girls dressed in green still turn out. Stout flows and spills. Kids run and dance and scream. Old men tell tales of what they remember the old men used to do when the old men were young men. And maybe somewhere, two teenage or twenty somethings get a chance at romance. Even if it be nothing more than a glimmer.
But I wrote last week of romance. And if I’m being honest, which in this place, I always am, I don’t feel much like talking about romance. Because maybe I already had a conversation with my drunken reflection about it last night. Because maybe I’m not heartless, but I’m damn close. Because maybe this fool’s game has a dangerous balance for merit.
So, we’ll meander. Not too far, but enough. The theme can include the previous subject, but is certainly not limited to it. As a normally reasonable person, I would tell you it is but another fool’s game. As a man of varied passions, I can confirm it is of the utmost necessity and importance.
And of course, I write of optimism.
See? It’s just vague enough to work.
So, let’s break it down, now. Fresh.
What is it? Without inter-webbing for the definition, we’ll say optimism is the general belief that things in the universe shall improve, either through your own actions and/or the benevolent actions of a universe believed to be either chaotically occurring or divinely sculpted around you. Simple enough, yeah?
So, for the sake of giving a bit more structure, we’ll say that you can be a hopeful optimist, or a passionate optimist. The hopeful, whom we shall refer to as the ‘Suckers’, are those that take a passive role in their belief for the future. Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Cthulhu or any other supernatural being or just the actions of the world around them will guide them, by no effort of their own, to a better life. These are the suckers.
Next, we have those of passionate optimism. The ‘Fools’, we shall call them. Now a Fool is something else entirely. A Fool is usually either rather dumb or insanely narcissistic, as they believe that their efforts, that of a singular human being, can make the vast and global impact of some sort of permanence. They think that they, themselves, can make the world a better place. Link from the Legend of Zelda, Elon Musk and your author all fall into this category. The Fools.
Now outside of that, we have realists and pessimists alike, who say your perceptions can be modified based upon your interpretation and therefore preventing disappointment and blah, blah, blah, blah. We’ll call everyone else the ‘Tools’. Useful for performing a set, singular task and not much else. Though, you can use a race tractors, throw knives as a skill and open a wine bottle with a power drill. But it takes an optimist to get the ball rolling with for such projects.
Now, as it clearly seems that I am siding with one particular side of one particular point of view, I should best explain myself.
I may not have lived long enough to know where exactly it comes from, but I seem to have this undeniable fixation upon the resourcefulness of the will power within human beings. At its most terrifying, it reveals itself to me through dreams of powerlessness, or worse, such a feeling in waking life.
Upon its apex sits the belief so strong, I almost dare to call it knowledge. Try or die. Even after failure. Relentless failures. It will be done because it must be done and if I don’t do it, who then will? Pretty heavy egomaniacal stuff, but my reality nonetheless.
But things will change. Because things do change. And sometimes, the actuality is that you had something to do with it. I’ve had something to do with it. Human effort has sculpted the Earth, both physically and psychologically. Mountains are crumbled and forests leveled by the hand of man. Steel towers, vast bridges, massive lakes and flying apparatus are all, also, from the hand of man. Humans. Women.
It’s that I’m a dude, so I say man. Habit. Sorry. Go fuck yourself.
But us humans, with our vaginas and dangling penises, and other stuff, have changed the planet. We have changed ourselves. And at least not since the dawn of the television, we can’t give much credit to some deity appearing in the sky proclaiming something and claiming responsibility for all the string pulling. For that time, and more, it has been us pulling strings.
So, if on a massive scale, we can sculpt the Earth and nearby solar system- smaller tasks must be accomplishable.
The truth is, I’m not much more than a layman. Blue collar with a big mouth. But that by no way means that I can’t fix what is broken. I can quell my rage and make efforts away from loneliness. Even if it never be fully realized. The loneliness is sort of inescapable though. It’s usually just you in your head.
But I dare say, the layman usually becomes the source of grand change. Woody Guthrie is the only example I’ll give. And he died young and in madness. But his words live in on. We sang one of his tunes in elementary school, I recall. Lucky me, having a good public education.
He was also opinionated on the president’s father, for whatever that’s worth.
But back to the point.
Can I continue to ward off and beat back the tide?
Yes, I said I. I am talking about myself, after all. I’m sorry, did you think I wasn’t. Apologies. My bad. Yeah, I’ve totally been talking about myself this whole time. I suppose you could apply what I’m saying to yourself.
You know what? Let’s just do that. Forget I even brought it up.
Can we beat back the tide? Not just the constant feeling of doom and destruction in this post-postmodern world. But the personal mountains. Can we beat our loneliness? Can we fight this feeling of helplessness? This emptiness?
Are we but Fools with no advantage?
I say not.
If nothing else, it has been self-proven, to myself. I woke with loneliness, almost feeling crippled by it. I now have climbed some sort of symbolic something, and here I be, changed from where I was. Will it last? Who knows? Will things get immeasurably better?
Today, maybe, I’ve got another parade to go to and that can help.
Overall? We’ll see. Parts of my life are working phenomenally and bring me tremendous amounts of joy.
Other parts… *cough* (my dating life sucks or is non-existent or both) *cough*cough*… are not going so swimmingly. But failures must be taken in stride and we must push on… *cough*cough* (I think women are more freaked out about a guy having a kid than romantic comedies lead you to believe) *cough*cough*cough*
Apologies. Probably too many cigarettes yesterday. But they go well with beer, so who can blame me?
But yeah. Let’s try to keep our chins up. Both collectively and individually. What’s the worst that could happen? Failure?
There’s worse things than that in life.
This idea started six years ago. Around this time of year. I won’t tell you where to get the old ones. You just had to be there. But I can tell you, this has gotten better. Proof, right there. That the efforts of humans are not valueless.
That my efforts have produced something. At the very least.