I had a conversation with a co-worker the other day during which I felt equal parts pity and dissent: a not uncommon reaction when opinionated idiots take a stand on something.  Although, it really isn’t fair to call him an idiot because that would mean I’m taking an equally opinionated stance, but it’s hard to respect someone’s point of view when you passionately disagree with their entire system of values.  He was explaining how he always assumes the worst from every situation, and while I can see how that sort of mindset has it’s practical uses, I couldn’t help pointing out how depressingly pessimistic it seemed.  My co-worker responded by saying “I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist.”  It wasn’t what he said that bothered me, so much as how, and how he said it was with a smug satisfaction, complimented perfectly by the self-righteous smirk on his face.  He made it sound like it was a worldview to be admired, like the word itself gave it credence, like he was clued in on something to which the rest of us were foolishly ignorant.

However, while he saw himself as a man who had it all figured out, I saw a man who found a way to justify the abandonment of hope.  I saw a man who realized that following his dream was going to be a lot harder as an adult than it had seemed as a child.  I saw someone who had been hurt once or twice along the way.  He probably dusted himself off the first time, and maybe even the second or third, but soon realized the heartaches wouldn’t stop, that they were an unavoidable part of the human condition, and chose to withdraw from the game and play permanent defense, like a paranoid old man sleeping with a shotgun pointed at his door.  He chose to invest his talent and energy into work he despises, and for what?  For constant residence within the financial buffer zone:  an economic state of existence in which you never want for anything, yet are forever consumed by the things you want.

There’s a famous quote, by an unknown author, that reads “Reality is for people who lack imagination.”  It’s a motto that I’ve personally taken to heart, because reality sucks, and I find it astounding why anyone would want to spend their entire existence confined by it’s limitations. Life is difficult, and suffering is inevitable; but accepting that fact as a part of your reality, and tailoring your reality around that fact are two vastly different approaches.

Now, am I being unreasonably cynical and blowing this out of proportion in order to avoid discussing the shortcomings of my own viewpoints?  Probably.  I realize that being realistic has it’s advantages and that my particular brand of optimism has a tendency to border on delusional; however, in this case I don’t think I’m being unrealistic, and I’ll tell you why.  In the second part of our conversation, as I defended my idealism, I mentioned that I am in a constant search for the love of my life, and will not stop until I find her.  My co-worker responded by saying, “I’m sorry but I think all girls are deceitful, lying, sluts.”  And then with a shrug, “that’s just how I feel.”

Well, I guess nothing says bad personal experiences like stereotyping half the planet’s population.  I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I’m some altruistic acolyte for gender equality, but if anyone has ever deserved a solid kick in the testicles, it was that man in that moment.  All girls are lying sluts? Really?  Funny, how that conveniently absolves you of all wrongdoing before the relationship even starts.  You’re perfect, but 3 billion people are inherently flawed.  Sound logic.  Real fucking realistic.