My long suffering readers, there are few conglomerations of words that raise my hackles and get my dander up like the ghastly phrase, “be realistic.”

Hell, I wasn’t even aware I HAD hackles or dander, much less that they could be raised or gotten up. Apparently I missed a memo.

Anyway, my consternation and chagrin caused by the fact that, while otherwise intelligent human-persons seem quite opinionated about this “realism” that I’m supposed to follow blindly, not one of these fine folks seem to be able to tell me what the hell it actually means.

“Reality” is a not a tangible object, like a tree, a bagel or an Ethel Merman album. Nor is it a standard, objective and external viewpoint that all carbon-based bipeds must follow (despite what modern society would have us believe).

Ladies and gentlebeings, I’m normally loathe to make proclamations about what you should and should not do.

I have no right to dictate your behaviour. (nor does ANYONE ELSE come to that.)

However in this case, I will ask you to indulge me as I make a heartfelt plea:

NEVER LET ANYONE TELL YOU TO “BE REALISTIC.”

“Be realistic” is a dismissive phrase. It’s patronizing and often spoken by folks who haven’t yet summoned the courage to act boldly and revel in their perfectly mad (and madly perfect) self-ness.

Don’t hate on them – they often mean well.

Don’t pity them – they deserve better than that.

Inspire them with your own unrealistic, beautiful boldness.

Encourage them to create their own reality, one that hasn’t been imposed by others.

In then end, realistic people don’t change the world.

It’s changed by those crazy enough, unrealistic enough and bold enough to try.

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