Pessimism 101

An introduction to pessimism through analogies, which will convey to the student how being pessimistic can help them put reality in perspective.

A little bird visited me in the morning. Through the transient webbing of leftover sleep, he told me how dogs got hit by cars, how men committed suicide, and how the world was united in it's bloodshed. I listened patiently, focusing past the glare of light pouring through my screen on the silhouette of a well-spoken sparrow. He explained how men would always try to tell each other to accept each other's differences, but that they would always disagree and someone always had a gun license that they weren't afraid to misuse. An optimistic light always brightened someone's day and sometimes it even stilled a trigger-ready hand, but an angry glare always skewed things and mistakes always broke the brightest smile.

Broken teeth, bleeding gums, wide-smiling lips falling into a tangled mess of error. No one could ever maintain such a brilliant smile.

I tried to retort his message with hope. No matter how ill life became hope always prevailed. A little light continued to glow that could lead to a smile, which could save a life by stilling that man's gun. But the little bird only stared sullenly, an understanding in his bright, round eyes. I was in denial. I knew that the murder-greedy fingers would always kill and that no gentle mind or heart could ever mute that powerful call.

Somebody will always die by someone else's hands. No motivational speaker or whisper from God will ever smite murder altogether until there are no men left to kill.

I was forced to get up by a voice in my head, which mimicked the black-rimmed sparrow from which my room was now vacant. I carried on with my empty life, tempted to leave it completely but resisting the desire to prove the little bird wrong. A car took a wrong turn. A main artery in my leg was torn. Bleeding organs, coughing, spitting. A hit and run. A hit and run. The sparrow was staring out at the futile situation, tucked into a weeping willow with his body cast in shadow from the hanging verdure. Sometimes, proving someone wrong wasn't worth your energy. Good day, little bird... good night. Flight, my spirit, his wings, apart but together in the network of understanding.