Positive

The certainty of possibility that the developmental experts would have our children believe in during youth disturbs me. Power of positive thinking: possess it, and accomplish all you will set out to do… I’ve tested positive. And, now, the prognosis does not appear to look very good. “Better get your house in order.” Go figure: The chaos designed or lit upon used to comfort and/or suggest repose. Nothing like a good mess to make you appear laid back – evidence of a careless mind at ease… “Nothing can stop it now.” Time marches on, and I’ve a cliché to beat away, a fight on my hands. Damned pacifist. Lazy bones. Victim. Come on in: make yourself at home; share a coffee or some chopped liver, morsel of my people, the Jews, who’d have you eat despite your desires not to chew on it – that’s just their way to get pushy with a guest. "Don’t get out of line, now." But what if you had nothing to lose? Would you build a bomb? Blow your house to smithereens just to witness the burning, smoldering, ash? (Some idealist I’ve turned out to be.) "Are you positive?" It’s asked innocently enough. But, still, one can never be sure.