Burden of Hope
Why do we burden ourselves with wants and "needs"?
Why can't we just let go and move on with our lives and ignore the setbacks that drag at us, and threaten to overwhelm us. I myself so want to be able to do this. To not care about what comes, what will be, to not dream, or hope. I don't like hope you see, because hopelessness has a certain finality, a specific "I don't have to try" end run.
Yet with hope, with hope I can dream,I can dream small, I can imagine great things, but the end result of hope, is that always, I get my heart broken. Always. So why can't I not hope? Why can't I let go of that burden and truly give up? It's agonizing having hope, because there is always the promise that something might change, might get better, might just let me not suffer so.
I try to be positive, try to encourage others, as well as encourage myself. Though it rarely works, because I've so often, hoped, so often daydreamed in passing of what would be, what could be if the world worked just a tiny bit like I wished. If it did, then hope would truly be a blessing. A wonder, something to look forward too. But because the world doesn't work the way I want, the way I wish, the way I desire, and pray and plead, and ask with voice both tiny and tentative, and angry and roaring. Instead, every hope, every potential, shatters like a glass mirror dropped on the floor in a million cutting pieces that reflect, the agony of broken optimism a thousand times over, warped, and sharp edged into my soul.
I still want to hope. I'm a fool. An idiot. But I still want it. Just for once. Just for a moment. I want it to come true, be real. Let me have peace and joy.
Why can't we just let go and move on with our lives and ignore the setbacks that drag at us, and threaten to overwhelm us. I myself so want to be able to do this. To not care about what comes, what will be, to not dream, or hope. I don't like hope you see, because hopelessness has a certain finality, a specific "I don't have to try" end run.
Yet with hope, with hope I can dream,I can dream small, I can imagine great things, but the end result of hope, is that always, I get my heart broken. Always. So why can't I not hope? Why can't I let go of that burden and truly give up? It's agonizing having hope, because there is always the promise that something might change, might get better, might just let me not suffer so.
I try to be positive, try to encourage others, as well as encourage myself. Though it rarely works, because I've so often, hoped, so often daydreamed in passing of what would be, what could be if the world worked just a tiny bit like I wished. If it did, then hope would truly be a blessing. A wonder, something to look forward too. But because the world doesn't work the way I want, the way I wish, the way I desire, and pray and plead, and ask with voice both tiny and tentative, and angry and roaring. Instead, every hope, every potential, shatters like a glass mirror dropped on the floor in a million cutting pieces that reflect, the agony of broken optimism a thousand times over, warped, and sharp edged into my soul.
I still want to hope. I'm a fool. An idiot. But I still want it. Just for once. Just for a moment. I want it to come true, be real. Let me have peace and joy.