Why I’m Not A Cynic, Yet.

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It is easy to question everything when you’ve been bent, back-stabbed, broken. Lied to, ignored, forgotten. The world is a cruel, harsh, heartless place. You could be suspicious. Why would a stranger say hi? Why is this store offering a discount? WHY are you being nice to me?

Cynicism is healthy; you can’t deny that we’re motivated by our desires.

But once in a while, I see you playing with a homeless child. I see you make the old man in the park smile; I see you secretly slip some cash in his bag that he is too proud to take from you. I see you give up your seat for the tired looking woman: she’s grateful, she hasn’t had a breather all day. I see you compliment that random girl on the street; it made her day.

Now, I see you in everyone I see. I see your cheerful grin directed at me. I see your hands reaching to help me pick up the books I dropped in the corridor. I see you in the journalist that volunteered to go to Syria. I see you in the guileless little boy next door. I see you in the teenager that is crying after reading a book.

I would have been Scrooge if you weren’t my ghosts.

I see you in all the happy moments past. I see you when I dream of the future. I see you everywhere. When I look at the stars and the blue sky. In the sun’s warmth. In the darkness, in the shadows. I see you make me smile. I see you thaw my cold, cold heart. I see you making me believe that the human race is not so bad after all. Finally, I see you in me.

And that’s why I’m not a cynic yet I’m seeing you.

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