Tales of a Sad Sack

There are always bright bits. They pop, quick and crackly, eroding the fuzzy emptiness that is my constant companion.

A properly kneaded piece of dough, leading to the smell of bread baking. Ink on paper outlining ideals and dreams. The crisp feel of a new comic book. A kiss from someone who knows your flaws and cherishes them as part of a whole. The corn-chip smell of dog paws. A perfectly cooked piece of bacon. Cat sneezes, fresh mown grass, a particularly spectacular sky.

I believe that if I could notice these bright bits more, cradle them in my hands carefully and examine each moment, they would bleed into one. Then life would be nothing but bright, and the bits would be made of fuzzy emptiness. Imagine the change that would make, to switch crews and lift off in a vibrant positivity.

It seems so impossible.

But I cherish my bright bits. I will learn to hold them, one day.