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I know I can be negative usually, as my friend always tells me because she’s the bright soul type with puppy dogs and rainbow skittle dreams and “life is so beautiful” oozing out her cutesy mouth. I guess I was like that for a time and then around 9 or 10 the dark side set in, I had lost some innocence somehow. You wouldn’t tell by looking at me. People always say I’m innocent or I look like an angel, which is weird and often comes from guys. But the Negative Nelly thing was worse before and so was the anger, years of corrupted focus to subdue that bitterness and raise the chips off the shoulders.

I feel people are so negative and angry because of different things happening in their life that compounds and gains interest and they feed it with that hateball, that cynicism and distrust. Then there are others who become that way through disappointment and loss of hope, hope in people, the world, humanity. You try to see silver lines in the veins of our mines but the awareness and bias makes you see off kilter, more red waves than blue. I figure I’m a little from column A a little from column B. It seems to take work to balance out the hardness and not hang with pessimism, the leather wearing rebel offering cigarettes and don’t mess with me vibes. It’s easier being cold and logical, there is less effort against the ego, less courage of the heart.

Warm people are great but I can’t pretend to be one of those all the time. A switch happened and you don’t just forget that side of you and harmonize what with the baggage of experience and lessons etched into you. I like to be around those people for a time and share the merriment, leech some of their brightness for my grayscale landscape. But I need the realists and a realist is balanced perspective, don’t skew one way, filthy neutrality. I envy my friend for her… simplicity of spirit I guess and the wholesomeness of it all but I cannot be her or any of the positivity people that are popping up in society with each generation. Maybe they think more about non-essential matters and are not political or philosophical, or maybe they have a better handle on the travails of the world and don’t let misplaced shadows darken their days. Whatever the case that’s their jam. Getting older is being comfortable with yourself and not castigating your flaws and foibles so I’ll live with the cynicism; cyanide and perturbation.

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