Hope springs eternal. It is really annoying. Even when things are at their worst, there is always that little voice saying
it could get better.
I live my life dealing with life. It is easier when you have
accepted it will not improve. Hope is a nuisance that gets in the way,
compounding the problem with its dreams of tomorrow.
During my short time here, I have seen the world deteriorate
rapidly. What once was merry has turned into misery. Yet, hope keeps popping in
like an unwanted guest.
I would love to see the world improve, but that is a
fantasy. I write such things, but try not to live them. Yet that pesky little
hope persists, like a ringing in the ear.
Most people do not care, but there are those that do. And
now, I realize where hope comes from: this small group of troublemakers who
will not just let it die. If they would just let things be, the curtain would
mercifully fall.
Yet, to deny their contribution would not be reality. They
make a difference in their own little way. And so, I am convinced the audacity
of hope will continue, like a recording that continually skips, promising
better days to come.
I empathize entirely! Yes, it is better to suffer the cold peace of finality than the vexing lukewarm of vain hope. Sadly, my heart is fired up to make things better and shall not be denied. Against my own will, I am the fool who never loses hope. In my madness I share my trash believing it a treasure. I am sorry, my friend. In sharing my hope I share my grief. I am sorry. As a man I repent of my hope... but as myself, I cannot. Forgive me.
ReplyDeletePersist if you must. Perhaps, something will come of it...
DeleteI am struggling to keep my head up in a noxious quagmire. I see others in the muck and I strive to keep them up to. The most disgusting thing is the nature of the quagmire itself: it is the shapeless, aimless nonsense of rotting lives.
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