I’m starting to think that the only savior in this world, at least for me, is hope.

It’s hope for something different than what I’ve seen that gets me through. It’s hope for a better day tomorrow, hope for a love worth fighting for, hope for rest and stability after a life of chaos.

But I was thinking today, what if thats where it ends? Hope is the key factor in keeping as alive, like maybe it’s just a survival instinct created through evolution. But in reality, the good never actually comes. We just hope and hope and hope and then we die.

What if hope is actually just a master manipulator, created in our brains to keep us alive but not an actual indicator that there is something more than pain and suffering? It feeds us occasional breadcrumbs to believe that life might change, but it never actually does. It gives us just enough respite from grief to keep us breathing but not enough to actually give us peace.

If hope loses its meaning, life isn’t tolerable anymore.

Idk.

I’m a pessimist by trade.

I’m a realist.

I’ll keep trying to hold on to hope… but I feel that the veil is about to be lifted.

Idk what happens then.

Then again, my daughters brought me flowers tonight to lift my spirits. “We knew you liked the ones with the most green in them”.

Hope is one tricky motherfucker.