Trying to walk with hope, follow it, hoping it'll tell me why it never comes unaccompanied by overwhelming melancholy.
Maybe that's what makes hope fantastical, unreal even, magical. But that's also the sadness about hope - you hold on to it when you've got nothing else.
But if everyday is a ritual of your human imperfections and weaknesses and flaws (or whatever word we use to universally identify something we can't deal with but must live with), what are these bumps of awareness and thoughtfulness for, especially if it's going to lead me to unbearable thoughtlessness?
Standing alone with hope. Not feeling so bad. None of this makes sense. Need realignment, rejuvenation, retuning, or no tuning, would be nice to be malleable to life and the world. Hope is gloomy too.
Maybe that's what makes hope fantastical, unreal even, magical. But that's also the sadness about hope - you hold on to it when you've got nothing else.
But if everyday is a ritual of your human imperfections and weaknesses and flaws (or whatever word we use to universally identify something we can't deal with but must live with), what are these bumps of awareness and thoughtfulness for, especially if it's going to lead me to unbearable thoughtlessness?
Standing alone with hope. Not feeling so bad. None of this makes sense. Need realignment, rejuvenation, retuning, or no tuning, would be nice to be malleable to life and the world. Hope is gloomy too.
