a lens penetrates into the eyes of an optimist*

You're at a red light. A man in a blue mustang pulls up next to you. You're smoking your last cigarette and snickering at the thought of what happened earlier at work. He's laughing and you look over, curious to see what's so funny. And there it is. How ironic. A ticket, a lousy ticket. And a man. A man who is laughing at his own foolishness. Or maybe not. You begin sweating, anger rising between the wrinkles of your forehead. And for a moment, you think you might explode. The man looks at you and you grow slightly uncomfortable. He laughs some more. You throw up your middle finger and he waves. You curse under your breath and the man simply looks at you. And what does he say? "A man would not be man if not for the splintering cracks degrading the bare skin underneath your fingernails. Scathing and pinching, itching and biting. Anger rises and your fists clench. But for what? Because your wife left you? Because you just got fired? Because you just received a lousy parking ticket? Tell yourself this: 'The bitch wasn't worth it, I'm hopping on another job with better pay, and screw the parking ticket, fifty dollars ain't shit.' You aren't going anywhere with that embedded frown of yours. Sit outside, soak up the sun, and turn up the music, because what happens to you-how bloody your fingertips are, you've still gotta turn the next door knob and walk into the next shitty chapter of your life, so live it up and fuck the rest. Smile just to piss people off, one day you maybe smiling forreal." And so the man drove away, and you sat there in the blazing sun, blistering heat slapping you in the face. And for once in your life you say to yourself, 'screw the rest of the world, I'm gonna shine,' and the frown terrorizing the people you meet begins to fade as the advice the man gave you seeps into your skin. And you swear the wind whispering into your ear has never sounded sweeter.