I get called out as a pessimist a lot because I like sad songs, movies and I’m attracted to stories that are tragic. (To be honest, I don’t quite trust people who aren’t.) I’m the kind of person who gets on a plane imagining it crashing. (Who doesn’t, though?) Pessimism as a defense mechanism, I suppose–like knowing will keep you from from the carnage. (Even if it doesn’t.) And anyway, there are a lot of fascinating things about the what could go wrong and about the what did go wrong and about the things that hurt.
One of my biggest struggles recently is that I couldn’t reconcile my love for Jason Mraz with Jason Mraz’s new album because even if Jason’s songs have always made me want to look on the brighter side of life, I don’t think they’ve ever been so overt about it. As someone who writes stories and who willingly reads things things that people made up, it’s very difficult for me to accept something that’s told to me up front.
As one of Mr. A-Z’s older songs pointed out, sometimes you can only arrive at one thing through something else. This has always been the case with me. So. I couldn’t wrap my head around this album–how could someone who had so discreetly gotten me to believe in not mumbling when I speak and all that in the past suddenly write something I couldn’t accept because it was telling me to do something so matter-of-factly.
The other day, I decided I was done. I re-listened to his first three albums.
Yesterday, I listened to the latest album and decided I didn’t hate it. Today, I tried listening to it with my judgement suspended and I heard the harmonies, the deep drum beat, the western twang of the guitar.
Just now, I’ve decided I don’t really give a shit about whether or not something is pessimistic or optimistic. If I like it, I like it and I like it. Does it really matter if a glass is half-full or half-empty? Isn’t the glass prettier? The water more important? The how more than the what? The glass is half-whatever. It’s beautiful, though.