i’d say i have hope

sometimes it’s good to feel helpless when it comes to situations out of your control, because you realize that the world is so much larger outside of your own.

rarely is it right to focus on yourself, little do they know that one can never find satisfaction or happiness for long. and pondering your sorrows rarely lead to nothing more than false ideologies and broken philosophies.

my days have been heavy and long, the night becomes swallowed by quick assumptions and anxieties, before i can get my thoughts straight it’s the next day, before i can recognize the chance of being alright it becomes the hours in which nothing is alright, i call these the raw hours of the night.

i fight for sleep and a sense of security, these dreams i attempt to decipher in a library filled with laughter. strange how i envision myself climbing rocky hills like books stacked on rigid stairs, wherever i place my foot there lies interference keeping me from where i’d like to be.

it must be too much to handle, and too much to bear. and the way you run from what you cannot change, and the way you deny what requires acceptance, it must be too much to take on all at once. i wish i could intervene, choose which problems you need to face, i’d spread them out over a lifetime if i had to. but all i want to do is face them myself, in my mind i think i am invincible until i am put up against my weaknesses and fail. just like i said before, ideally i would carry all of their burdens and then i would hand them over to a god in whom i trust. sounds so simple when i put it that way, seems more close, but everything is far away.

by far away, i mean distant. by distant, i mean not near enough to the point that i can trust and by trust i mean hope. but i’d say i have hope.

i’d say i have hope.