The Last Optimistic Person on the Planet.
Let's see how that works out. Flying along, and BANG, into a brick wall. Until that day, just fly, that's the plan.
Everyone here is afraid. Afraid of being positive, optimistic. Afraid to dream of a better day. I mean, they talk, but it's all worry, doubt, uncertainty, sarcasm, cynicism, indifference. The fear is big. Fear that everything is going to shit, and there's no way out of it. Fear of the loud fat man sucking all the oxygen out of the room. They think that ugly fat man has some secret mojo, a super-power, that no one can counter. The loud ugly fat man is on everyone's mind.
And there are those teeming hordes, the proud deplorables, mindless, thoughtless followers hooked up to Fox news. They are loud & belligerent. They shout and threaten. They hate real good. It's all about "no" with those folks. They are in survival mode. At war with the present. They clamor for a past where white folk ruled the roost.
The rest of us have lost the thread. What happened? Some of us have lost the power to dream, to imagine another world, a better time.
Then there is The Last Optimistic Person on the Planet. They often quote Lombardi: "Run to Daylight." and "When the going gets tough, the tough get going."
Flying along...