Positively Yours: The Diaries of a Pessimist

“And let there be light!” he said. Thus I believe the universe was heralded; in the glow of divine flash bulb. Tiny embers must have rolled out of the heavenly bonfire, and strange devices they would seem, bellowing off steam for their very existence; oddly reminiscent of certain noxious humans which were to come several ages thence. Tiny as they were, these devices conceived even tinier contraptions. Innocuous and gullible, a little Earth must have wiggled in the radiance of its mother. Since then life surged; and has never ceased to stop. Life goes along its path, never meaning to stop. Ever so nimble, yet so staunch. It commands its minions in an endless march, moving meticulously with the beat of time. Hitherto, when a new life is born, it chases after the splendor of a butterfly. Alluring and irresistible, the wings of creativity threaten to stray this diminutive mouse from the piper’s entourage. Or does it? Cold and harsh hands tug him along the predestined path, impassive eye...

In the dusty roads of life, The heart searches for a friend. In the lonely walks of love, The soul longs for a companion. The darkness of the skies, Dampen the once high spirits. The dreary clouds, Crush the mind's lingering hope. The light that awaits me, Seems to flicker at the distance. And the tunnel seems to stretch, Without an end. Though my legs lack the strength, My sinews carry on the fight. Though my heart has given up, My blood flows hot.

Drip... A bead drips down my brow. The days aren't getting any colder Tired and wary I lay on the floor. The still moments making me slightly older. Drip....A bead flows down my chin. The nostalgia hits me hard. The sagacious dreams of my youth. Seem pretentious ramblings of a listless bard. Drip...As it wets my neck. The guilt of a thousand tribulations weighs me down The light at the end seems hazy And thorns adorn the image of the anticipated crown. Drip..It rolls down my arms The words come slower now Mutilated in the squalor of my existence They have abandoned me with my thoughts in tow. Drip...I hear a splash The journey has reached its end The bead rolls along the floor Mutilated before I could make amends. I gaze away and clear the smoke And a lonely stupor engulfs me in its thrall I roll around And wait for another bead to fall.

I try and I try to forget The days of my youth But the memories of the innocence Keep slipping my grasp The days spent wondering Of things we could become The nights spent complaining Of girls we couldn't court The months in the heat Roaming aimlessly tween the corridors The moments we huddled In the winter's cold I miss the shoulders That I'd taken for granted I miss the bonds That I believed would never break The green grass The empty class The broken heart The cold hearth They all remind me Of the best days of my life Of the days spent free of strife Of friends and promises Made between brothers

Every time I see those eyes It stops my heart for a little while Their piercing gaze haunts me Even when I look away. I want to kiss those lips Which have taken over my dreams I want to hold her tight And forever keep her close to me. Her angelic smile,  Has robbed me of joy It lingers in my mind And pricks gently at my soul. So seldom does love come calling Into my empty life So seldom do I feel my hear beat For something other than living. Yet again, we play this game Of hide and seek. And as before love chooses to hide In a place that I cannot seek. 

I pick up my pen today. I feel like writing Today my emotions want to flow Like a flood that's long been dammed And won't be stopped anymore. I shall write of life, Of love and the days gone by Or the days yet to come. I shall pen a beautiful verse For the one who visits me in my dreams. My verses shall echo the pain of the earth They shall speak of tyranny They shall exude the sweet smells Of intellectual revolutions, of hope And peace in our lifetimes. Today shall be the day I write Today shall be the day I create The greatest lines to be written As soon as I can learn to dream again, I swear to my pen, I shall write. 

So you might have guessed from the title that I'm socially awkward. I certainly hope so, its so much easier when your reader understands what you're trying to express. Much like having a friend. Which brings me to the topic of the essay (see what I did there?). Throughout the course of our lives, we inevitably create bonds of companionship and comradery which make our lives more livable and worthwhile. And even though the fact that we all make friends is undebatable; there is a pronounced difference in the rate and voracity with which different individuals make these relationships.  There are people that I have come across in life, who seem to connect to people with an ease that would make James Bond doubt his social skills. They seem to know exactly what to say and whom to say it to. And most amazingly, they can make time for most of the connections they make. Don't get me wrong here, I am not saying that this habit or these people ought to be corrected. On the contrar...