Marrakesh

I'm a relentless optimist and it's a hip point of derision. All too often some drunk dude with cigarette dangling says "oh come on, how can you be so hopeful? How could you be so silly?" It seems I'm the only living girl characterized by a standard state of enchantment. Well sorry dude but I beg to differ from the cynical alley cat. Yes, we've all heard that the economy is parched, the job market blows, the world isn't kind, but are these the only breathing considerations? What about life's unchanging pleasantries?

To escape the alleged realities of my generation, I've turned to a book on gypset culture in which Yves Saint Laurent once said "[I see] a whole generation assembled as if for eternity where the curtain of the past seemed to lift before an extraordinary future."

Finally, someone who sees the futuristic utopia in my head, a dreamer instead of a simple dude. Call me naive but I'd like to jump off the coast, cold water licking my arms, as the curtain rises off the beach.