This is the most honest I’ve ever been with myself.

I am a 23 year old idealist masked as a cynic. I hide behind my sarcastic exterior in hopes to be pleasantly surprised by the many untrustworthy, mean-spirited, nasty environment around me. I do my best to surround myself with people and things that make me happy, but no matter where I go there are always people and places who’s apparent goal in life is to try and be a succubus on all that strive for happiness. I choose to normally hide my idealism because I’m afraid of being disappointed and hurt. 

I believe that people should have respect for others- respect for their beliefs, for their life, and for their choices- so long as it doesn’t hinder people’s quest for truth, love, or freedom.

I give people the benefit of the doubt. 

I believe the best in people. 

I do my best to forgive.

I care entirely too much about what people think.

I have a good poker face and play the role of a sharp-tongued, spit-fire to save face when I’m hurt. 

I cry easily.

I think that love is the greatest feeling you could hope for. 

I always want to learn because you can’t know it all- you can only think you know it all. 

I believe that you should always tell the truth so you never have to remember what you told different people, but sometimes it’s better to not know the truth. 

I try to trust myself but often don’t listen to my own intuition and I regret it.

I get discouraged when there is something I can’t accomplish. 

I want to prove people wrong when they doubt me, but mostly it forces me to give up trying. 

I need to know that love and passion can coexist for a lifetime. 

I look for beauty.

I can be extremely negative but sometimes it’s just so people can show me the silver lining.

I find that giving is better than getting. 

I strive for happiness.

I realize this is lofty. I realize the world is not perfect and nothing will always fall into place. But wouldn’t it be nice if it did? I would love to wake up to a bountiful economy where poverty, homelessness, hunger, and pain were no longer an issue. Sometimes I don’t sleep at night because I can’t stop thinking about how sad some of my friends are. I get sick to my stomach when I think about innocent animals that are abused and mistreated.

I am not a martyr. I hope that what I say isn’t making me sound like I’m trying to be one. Maybe that’s why I hide behind cynicism. Because at least cynicism can be funny. Sarcasm can be an excellent rock to hide behind and to help protect the carefully armored shell you helped create for 20+ years. I have a delicate shell and I often incidentally help others in shattering it. But I am an idealist. I want the best for all people and I want them to define what “best” means to them. But it’s so hard to be honest about my Utopian principles when the world is so fucked up that by just turning on any media source in the morning can cause outrage and tears and ruin your entire day. Maybe this is why we turn to an anti-anxiety medication or anti-depressant- to help us cope with the terrible things we hear and see and experience. As much as I wish everything was sunshine and puppies and rainbows, I do understand that they are not and never will be. But for this night that I sit and type this and possibly subject myself and my thin little shell to the sledgehammer of reality… I don’t care. 

Tonight, this is my Idealist Manifesto.

Go ahead and call me jaded. Go ahead and burst my unrealistic bubble. Or tell me- what do you secretly believe in? What is your ideal that you keep no matter how many times you get knocked down? What do you hope for? 

And don’t worry. Tomorrow I’ll be back to my sarcastic self.