I'm sitting in the park, waiting for my windshield to be fixed, and watching the world. Really, watching the city - this place couldn't represent the world if it wanted to. It's a bad part of town and the guy who's walked by the bench where I'm reading at least a dozen times has just stolen someone's shopping cart full of aluminum cans. I watch him, and am confused, but I can't help but wonder how I should react. Part of me wants to laugh, like this is some episode of "Homeless Punk'd," another part of me thinks I'm sick for just thinking there's any humor in this situation, and another part of me doesn't give a damn and turns back to my book. I'm absorbed, and it's sunny, and no matter how many people stagger by me drunk at 4:00, I can't help but revel in the beauty of the day.
A couple walks by me with beer in a paper bag and a pitbull on a leash, fighting and yelling, and I cringe a little. Am I that judgmental, that ashamed of the universe I live in? Part of me wants to chastise myself, But people are good, people are beautiful... But the other part of me says, Fuck it. Live your life and who cares what anyone else does? It's a beautiful day, goddammit.
Someone tell me something beautiful.
A couple walks by me with beer in a paper bag and a pitbull on a leash, fighting and yelling, and I cringe a little. Am I that judgmental, that ashamed of the universe I live in? Part of me wants to chastise myself, But people are good, people are beautiful... But the other part of me says, Fuck it. Live your life and who cares what anyone else does? It's a beautiful day, goddammit.
Someone tell me something beautiful.
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If you seriously ask yourself the question, "life is beautiful" there is only one answer you can give, "yes it is, immesurably so."