The Black Pink

Past the sun and over the stars, beyond black and the vast, space turns pink and the one planet there thrives with vegetation and intelligent life. Stars are still white, but with a pink backdrop they’re a lot harder to see, so the people don’t wish on stars. They are a level-headed folk who find happiness in the now and the already existing. Their evolution is unmitigated irony and yet their overall simplistic happiness is an abundant resource, fueling the quality of their days rather than hindering it with dreams and plans. Love exists, and it’s always right in front of them. They don’t have to look because everyone is beautiful. Love is easy. Being happy is easy. The sky is equal and with the blue oceans it reflects back a purple tint. And when they send people into space, their planet portraits looks like candy. It’s a calm planet, with calm lives and calm days, and if there is a dispute then there is also a well-behaved discussion with each party getting an equal allotted time to explain their side.

Fuck.

I don’t want to write about reason and pretty fucking planets. The gist is: people fucking suck.

But ‘people’ is too broad a term and I don’t have the energy to take on everybody. If you want to do something nice today, that would be great. If you want to, or are about to, do something that would classify you as a ‘dick/bitch’, stop. Don’t. Instead, do some kind of dance. It will be funnier. The unexplained is always funnier. And read a tombstone. Or plant some flowers where there are no flowers. Buy a homeless soul a meal. Follow a butterfly. Stare at the ocean ‘til it gets dark, then stare at the stars. If you do those things, I don’t think you can be an angry person. And not being angry is the first step to being happy.