(no subject)
I have never regarded myself as pessimistic. I am a realist. I take a hard-nosed stance toward the distinction between daydream and reality. Some realities, no matter how unbearable, will never be what I wish them to be.
But when scenarios play out that I regard as wildly implausible and hopelessly self-indulgent even to contemplate, I have to admit that I've been too strict with myself. Hope is distinct from faith. For a realist, reality is law. And the experiential facts have born out the claim that I have, in fact, been a pessimist, technically.
I do not need to remind myself that dreams do not magically come true just because I wish them to. Even when they come true almost verbatim, this is not evidence that the universe loves me. That's not the cause.
But they can.
Comments
none
Leave a Comment