Sometimes I am called an 'optimist.'
I can see how it happens, but it is a misunderstanding.

As they begin to know me,
people see that the moniker is ill-fitting
They are unsure as to what would be more appropriate
Because I do not wear the same guises they have seen before.
They are nervous.

There is no need to be nervous.

If you are on the side of goodness.

If you are on the side of goodness,
you will see the gentleness, the compassion, the caring and thoughtfulness I have been gifted.

Je suis née sous un bonne étoile.

But I am not an optimist.
Optimists see a world I do not.

I am a war-hawk.
I understand too much, and in the world where I live, the third great war has already begun.

I am furious at the fear, the despair, the emptiness, the ignorance and the pain that lead people to cower and manipulate others to create more misery.

My mortal enemies.
I hate them.
And so I fight with all that I am.

I am on the side of compassion, thoughtfulness, understanding, joy, awe, life.

I am infinitely stronger than I look.
And if no one sees it,
Everyone feels it.

Who holds more power?
Forget all of the mechanical shit cowards use. It will fail.
Who, in his very being, holds more power:
The infant who blinks his beautiful seeking eyes?
Or the angry wrinkled man who must spew nonsense to get the attention he craves?

The producers?
Or the consumers?

The givers?
Or the takers?

The creators?
Or the destroyers?
Without creators
Destroyers cannot exist.

No, I am not an optimist.
But there is no need to be afraid, friend.
If you are on my side.