Happy (Written September 10, 2013)

I’ve come to a conclusion:
There are times to be happy.
Ignore the bad stuff, close your eyes,
And for once just let it be.

Just watch the light in front of you,
Forget the dark that’s all around,
Just keep your sight focused ahead
Locked on to what you’ve found.

Concentrate on what is good,
For now, forget the bad,
Save it for when you can do something
Rather than just get mad.

So, I’ve decided, at least for today,
I’ll let the bad stuff be,
I’ll look ahead to better things,
For once, just be happy.


Ok, just gonna go ahead and clarify right off the bat: I am in no way an advocate of turning a blind eye. That is not what that poem was saying. There is a two part inspiration for this poem.

Part One:
I hate math. Really, I do. I especially hate it when my math teacher calls me in for extracurricular class when the week of school gets cancelled for safety reasons. I don’t do extra classes in subjects I hate. Call me up any time for an extra literature class. I’ll jump for that. Or heck, Spanish. I like language, I’ll do that. But math? No way in heck. So I said no. Apparently I misunderstood. They were not, in fact, optional. *shrug* Whatever, they didn’t get parental consent anyway. Point is, the homework isn’t optional either. All I’ve done by missing those classes is missed out on the part where the teacher explains. *shrug again* My mom is a math teacher too, so what do I care? I’ll answer that for you: I still have several hours of homework to do. And, to be frank, math and I just don’t get along. I am not stupid, but I swear somebody, somewhere, has got a voodoo doll of me that they poke the head of every time I try to solve a problem. Really, I am painfully slow. I get it, eventually, but it is a project. So, what would normally be a few hours of homework is now several hours. So, I am annoyed. Especially because I just discovered that, in fact, I didn’t need to take this class in the first place, because I already have all the math credits I need. But, well, if you know me, you know that I hate backing down from a challenge, especially if I know that I could theoretically make use of it later. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me mad.

How does this lead to a happy poem, you ask? Good question!

Well, the thing is, I finished up a portion of the work and decided it could go to heck. I had another day. Who cares if it took me two and a half hours for two lessons. Who cares if I have five more? I had another day, so, they could go burn for all I care. So, instead of doing my homework, I listened to the Green Album. Then I listened to Händel’s Messiah. (Parts of it, anyway. They were in German which was silly. The man who commissioned Händel to write the Messiah was British, so the original was in English. Silly people.) And then I took a nap. I woke up and ate dinner and drank soda (a real treat for me because I have basically sworn the stuff off since I got acid reflux disease). Then I grabbed a book and sat down to read. It made me happy. Somehow or another, I really haven’t been reading much lately. So sitting down for a few hours and reading was really awesome. I just had to ignore the impending doom. Which is easy to do when you settle into a good book.

Which brings me to Part Two of my inspiration:

What book was I reading do you ask? Storm Front by Jim Butcher. Did I like it? Yes I did. I liked most of it an awful lot. There were three or four different parts that made me disgusted, even furious, but I kept reading because it was really well written, and the plot was intriguing. It helped that the main character was, in most ways, an upright and honest guy. But, seriously, I really did not appreciate the way women in general were portrayed. With the exception of one of them, they all got their way by throwing around their looks (in a very bad sort of way). I don’t appreciate that at all. Neither as a woman myself, nor simply as a lover of literature. I find that to be lazy writing, aside from just being disgusting. However, aside from those three or four scenes…

It was really good. The main character was really sort of awesome. He wasn’t all powerful, but he could get what he needed to do done. He was a gentleman, but he was still a human. He was a good guy. A real good guy. He knew which side was the right one, but he was always struggling against the wrong side. He had his secret past that he was dragging around. He was smart. All in all, he was a very absorbing character. The mystery was an easy one to wonder about too. Plus, it was fun to watch the main character work through it all. It all connected in the end, and it was really hard to put the book down before you got to that point.

So, see where the poem came from? You can’t let depressing/annoying/friggen maddening things like math detract from happy things like good music and good reading. Nor, if you want to enjoy the reading, can you get caught up by the author’s explicitness. On the other hand, you can’t ignore that explicitness any more than you can ignore the math. You can put aside the evils of math and explicitness long enough for you to enjoy the good beside them, but sooner or later they have to be dealt with. The only difference in the two cases is that math will help you one day, and the explicit writing never will. It just detracts from the story. You ignore the math till later. You ignore the explicitness forever. Just remember it long enough to tell other people that it is bad.

(So far as the book goes, by the way, I would say this: so far as story and lead characters go, the book was really good. On the other hand, most of the supporting characters were weak and used for the explicit crap (forgive my language) just about exclusively. The only thing I will say so far as recommending or cautioning against the reading of this book is that I would most definitely only read it when older and, hopefully, mature enough to see the crap (forgive my language) as being what it is.)



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