Hope. Like a bar of soap, I bathe in hope. Every day we wear it, but I wear it to cope, bound to me like an un-tiable rope. It’s there to protect me, protect me from my reality, and all the dangers in it I fail to see, that otherwise I could not flee. It’s like an armor subconsciously, so consciously I’m shielded constantly.
Some call it wishful thinking, pffffsh! I call them ignorant, blinking, their narrow minds shrinking, blind from all the rubbing alcohol they’ve been drinking. Because my hope is real, it’s not a fabrication but something I feel, a mentally-physical sensation. Not quite like the climatic end from masturbation but a close relation. It’s more like what you w0uld feel, from eating an x-pill, or smoking some top shelf kill:BBFflame:. Once obtained it’s something no one can steal. It’s an elevation of sensation, similar to the high you get from most drugs of recreation. But instead of helping you forget, all this world’s abominations- It empowers you with the strength needed to face them, the tools to erase them, from GOD’s seven day creation:sphere:. So god willing, you may finally turn your days into a lifelong vacation. Have faith, and you too can come to see this realization!
Artwork of –C- “What hope is to me.”