Real Good Things

For the many mighty,almost indestructible and unwantedly visible flaws we're given to deal with,God makes up for this by handing us one or two good traits that are most commonly discovered during the rocky years known as self-discovery.Easy example:The Hunchback of Notre Dame (excellent movie by the way),cursed with a hideousness comparable only to that of Satan's Evil,is blessed with a good and loving heart,one which is inevitably discovered by some dancing Gypsy who is more than willing to trade her lifetime of sex with horny jocks with a man whose heart simply outshone everything else.Okay,my point drifted somewhere midway through the sentence-miserably capsized in my foolish,capricious need to sentimentalize the bloody sentence into some freaking fantasy-but you get the gist, don't you?Anyways,I'm still waiting for my share of Real Good Things (the emphasis here on waiting)-therapists,counsellors and optimists alike would argue that those things of which i impatiently wait for have already been there for the longest time,only overshadowed by unwillingness to look beyond the bad stuff.Somtimes in a real world,one characterized by corruption,indirect tyranny,selfishness and violence-optimism is a lost religion,one hopelessly followed by meandering dreamers who'd prefer to contemplate the definitions of big,abysmal words like 'Justice' and 'Equality' than realise that beyond their thin,fragile covers of complex theories and understandings lie a dark universe far too complex to be summed by words and arguments alone.Good Things do happen to me-and sometimes those unusual,unlikely coincidences (the intelligent hands of fate mischievously disguised under the bimbotic covers of Lady Luck) when,the tiniest of good things occur and change (a word that is often loosely used without properly acknowledging its weight) things,in a time when life's down times had shrunk my belief in Good Things to an indiscernible baby penis size.But their impact lasts merely for a few hours,at most for a few days,before i'm once again slapped with the harsh realities of life-so where is my Real Good Thing (notice how the word real now actually makes sense)?As i willingly listen to people busily talking about the many preparations,painstakingly done with a sense of meticulousness usually reserved for Royalty,for my sister's wedding,i begin to ask myself where i had gone wrong.On the surface (i say this because there's a big possibility i've been negligent and biased in my observations),my sister (the bride-to-be) has had an exciting life as a teenager and young adult,both her beautiful looks and smart brain taking her to places i can only dream of (two of them being a fortified career and solid relationship)-she would probably lead an eventful life full of Disney-like laughs and smiles (and other heartwarming elements) whereas I belief i'm destined for an eternity of dysfunction characterized by a few divorces,a whole lot of shouting and arguing with different people,multiple failures and other forms of mental torture,the only possible bright light being that all my miseries be bought by some silly director and made a dumb film starring a woeful man named Abdul Ghani,whose stunning and tearjerking performance wins him an Oscar and four supposedly virgin wives.At least my life-long suffering gives someone,if not myself,something worth smiling for.Okay,of course i'm writing all of this with cynicism and ignorance,and i realise that half of what's written here can be the small topics fuelling hourlong arguments or possibly just one short,brutal scoff.Sometimes i let my cynicism breath and expand,i'm curious to see what sort of crap it can conjure when i let my thoughts roam free without being chaperoned by Moral Conscience or Rellevance (the two higher powers that rule a democratic place-they take the rare vacation when one prefers to be ignorant,gets high or drunk,or is possessed by one's Inner Savagery-the motivation behind the murdering children in Lord of The Flies).So i guess the holiday's over for this couple,best stop here before i start murdering people or joining jihad missions (something that my poorly misguided agama teacher said would lead us to Heaven-startling how some self-proclaimed religious people encourage us to steer away from violence,but are surprisingly willing to use it for self benefit).Anyways,my mood now,if personified by music (maybe Mr. Abdul has a great voice,and it'll be a stage musical instead)-would be the melodious voices of Corrine Bailey Rae and Norah Jones-i'm feeling lightheaded and depression-free,and as i take time to bask in this state of childlike bliss i secretly wish that the stars,the moon,and the ominous blue skies stretch the night to a long decade so i can forever lie comfortably in oblivion.