Wide eyed child of wonder.

I think part of my appeal is how obvious it is that I’m young and inexperienced. I am amazed that I don’t walk around with my mouth open all day marveling at the world, being impressed by everything that I see. Sometimes I am just like a child, and sometimes I am just like a hardened criminal. Sometimes I am a combination of the both.
“No” I can hear you say, “you are neither child like nor in any way mature”.
“Touche’” I say “that was a fine joke and I appreciate it”.
“I don’t understand” you respond and we do that thing where we look at each other for a while searching out some hidden meaning in what is really just an off hand remark.
I clear my throat and say “Continue”.
You say “Well, here’s a question instead. You call yourself a pessimist, what sort of pessimist are you?”
“Ah ha,” I reply, “A worthy question that I will attempt to answer”.
I frown and stroke my chin making you mutter ‘wanker’ under your breath. I pretend not to hear.
I am the sort of pessimist that is no longer surprised at the world. I am the sort of pessimist that when awful things happen I wonder, why did they not happen sooner? Here is an example. Recently in our city there was some very brutal murders. An entire family was bludgeoned to death in their house, two teens, two adults. The police are being very tight lipped about the whole thing but from what we can infer, it was random and probably unprovoked.
The fact that four people, including children, we beaten to death in their own home does not surprise me. If anything, I applaud the stunning brutality that this deed entails. I do not find it shocking, I find it more amazing than anything. Ask yourself, how would it be to beat someone to death, now, what about four people, now, make two of them teenagers, still fun?

I admire, but not respect, the complete lack of any moral ground. I admire, but not respect, when people drift so far from the norm that they are lost in their own twisted desires. I admire, but not respect, how insane some people really are. I give a slow methodical clap to those aspects of life that we can never understand because they are just too fucked up.

What sort of pessimist am I? One that is not surprised when the world rolls over an exposes its ugly face, one that expects the worst to happen, in short, the best kind of pessimist, and that is a true one.