The sky kissed me twice yesterday, good morning and good day. Once, upon waking, with a ray of light or love streaming in through dusty glass. And again, while walking, with a single raindrop like a pinprick on my lower lip. It was a warning, as if to say, “Hurry inside. My tears are for your world. Not for you.”
Raging optimism will always be my one, true vice. Don’t get me wrong. I love sarcastic quips and a good, salty smirk. My eyes were born to throw daggers. Deep down, however, my body runs on the naive confidence of a young girl that knows everything will turn out just fine. Whether I leave this body tomorrow or 80 years from now, I will always believe two things. 1). People, as a whole, are inherently good. We all have a drive to be better individuals for the people around us. 2). The world is beautiful. I am not afraid to die and become part of it again. My body will decompose and return to the cycle of life itself. I will not be alive, but part of me will go on to be used by the most wondrous system. I can’t fathom the secrets of the universe or the meaning of life, but I know everything’s gonna be alright.