ab initio, ad infinitum

the idealist.

PART FOUR IN THE PEOPLE SERIES. it's been a while since i did one of this series, and it's a diff vibe, because i just speed wrote this rn, because i have been trying to pin down why some songs have been making me v emotional as of late (i have a bunch to suggest, but glory by maverick sabre is a big one), and it translated loosely to this piece. so my ardent apologies if this makes zero sense, i hope you enjoy it all the same. stay safe during this crazy time folks!  do good, be well. <3

T H E   I D E A L I S T .

She is an idealist. The one with wide eyes that are shadowed by life yet shining with hope.

She is the one with lungs that don't work the way they used to, lungs which have breathed in too many breaths of dusty air. She is the one with achy muscles tired of carrying her weight for so long and scratchy throat from screaming for too long and tired eyes from crying for so long.

She is a mess, broken and battered and tired.

But she hopes.

She sings songs with her scratchy throat and dances with her aching limbs and drinks in the world with her red and tired eyes, because she knows that there is so much to the world.

She knows that the world is a horrible place at times, and that her life may have hurt like hell up until now. She knows that suffering happens and that she has felt it acutely in her bones, a weight she is cursed to bear.

But she also knows that there is more. She knows that there is a white canvas, there is a blank start, waiting for her. She knows that tragedy ends, and an opportunity for something beautiful blooms from it.

She knows that there is more. She knows that tears exist to clear her vision once more. That she will get up and she will fight and she will freaking live. If not for herself, for everyone who she loves who has not been able to, for the past versions of her that didn't make it

She is someone who has seen the end of the road, and has longed for it. But she is also someone who knows that there are twisting paths of life that can take her on many other journeys, each beautiful and worthy of a story. And if she doesn't tell those stories, hell, who is?

She is an idealist, a rare breed in a dying world that feeds on misery and pessimism.

She is a girl who wants more, who knows that there is more, and someone who will fight for it.

She is someone who knows that being strong isn't all there is. Someone who knows that she is not. She is a mess.

And she will rise.

She doesn't need to fix herself, she just needs to hold her shattered pieces in her palms and trudge onwards to see the glimmering dawn, to feel the beams on sunlight on her face. And after being reminded of the smell of fresh air and the promise of beginning, time will help mend her wounds and she will go on.

Because it always goes on.

Maybe it's just her idealism, maybe it's wishful thinking. Maybe she really is just a girl who has her head in the clouds and no grip on reality like how people always told her, maybe so.

But she has no intention on stopping.

She has endured pain, and she has cracked under it. That doesn't diminish her worth. Because in spite of all that, she looks up, walks onward, and she continues. She ascends to the glory that crescendos around her, basking in the golden singing that surrounds her each time she decides to keep on going.

She will keep on going. She doesn't know how to stop.

There is more.

She has to believe it. If she doesn't, there would be no point.

And she can't accept that. Not when there are songs to be sung and waltzes to be danced and sunrises to watch and constellations to gaze at and people to love and stories to tell and doors to be opened – she can't.

The world will only ever be as bright as she sees it, and dear god, she wants technicolor.

Life goes on, the world keeps spinning, even in the wake of tragedy. She has always known this, and there have been times that she has resented this. But now she sees the beauty in it, because if the world keeps on going, there is more, and why should she not be a part of that for as long as she can?

Things get better and things get worse, and life continues to always be a balancing act, but she can't help but see the beauty and glory and wonder in the cycle that all things on this planet abide.

There is more.

More pain, more relief, more ugliness, more beauty, more tears and heartache, and more love and laughter. More clouds with silver lining, more hope, more life, more better days.

And maybe she's an idealist, maybe she's wishful, maybe she's just a girl who has stayed true to herself, but no matter what, she knows that there is always more.

...