Snowflakes on my tongue.

There was this little boy, new to the understanding of “winter”.  The harsh winds, having to be so protected from the “elements,” being so shut in; these practices were funny and unusual to him. He was use to running in the street, up to strangers, laughing with new friends; the reverse of the season brought him great discomfort. After a now all too familiar practice of shielding himself from “winter”, this young boy stepped outside and saw a glimpses of his own nature. Foreign to him but exciting, he ran in the street, up to strangers and laughed with new friends as everyone was enjoying nature.  Like it was meant to be, this young boy turned his head to the sky, nature hit his nose and he wiggled it around like Samantha  in “Bewitched”. Instinct took over as he opened his mouth and let snowflakes dance on his tastebuds. He tasted hope. This was one of my greatest memories and for the longest time I thought it was nothing more than a dream.

I believe a lot of us are remembering hope as if it was a dream. We couldn’t have been hopeful in our lives as the reality of war, poverty and hustling to get by is now the staple in our minds. What I wouldn’t give to return to the days that hope and excitement were all I knew.  Remember when all you saw was possibilities as we aged.  We would be able to drive, see R-rated movies, love, and sit at the adult table. Sometimes that kids table looks more inviting to me than having to discuss politics or recent deaths of old friends and classmates.

So to believe again is naive.  To be an idealist is foolish and insane. There are no more Mother Teresas, Martin Luther King Jrs, Gandis, or Abraham Lincolns to set the slaves free. Yes we are all slaves now to adulthood and “reality”. To be hopeful, to actually think you can make a difference; what a load of shit. Those people were special and divined at birth to bring hope and change to the world.  I’m just a man, and not even the best man. What can I do?

Goddamned I wont believe that. If I’m insane and labeled idealist, an optimist, or just plan stupid for believing hope still exist, to believe I can make a difference; WE can make a difference as we all thought before “reality” told us it’s not our job, that only the ‘chosen ones’ had that right and ability, than dammit call me whatever the hell you want.

The hope isn’t gone from the world just the belief that small efforts can make huge gains. Stay hopeful, teach hope, live hope and replace the reality we have been forced to live in with the hope we know is our right. I ask that you share this with everyone you know. The movement of hope is ours to drive and nurture. Let us all water the seeds.

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2 thoughts on “Snowflakes on my tongue.

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  1. I know exactly that feeling you talk about – the loss of that hopefulness and excitement for the world you feel as a kid. I feel like I’m trying to win that back. Sometimes you feel you’ve lost it completely somewhere along the way–it just takes a change in attitude.

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