Hope

Hope. 

I'm not quite sure of the meaning. "To believe something to be true", is what I would guess, though I believe that to be faith. Hope, I hear, has saved many lives, of many different people. If life was hopeless, would that mean we're doomed? Or would it simply translate to life being overlooked as a gift, given to us by some long forgotten deity? 

What is the amazing healing power people say hope has? I've yet to be 'saved' by anything even remotely relating to hope. Strands of suicidal thoughts continue to waft through my brain, while webs of depression continue to clot my thinking, clouding all of my judgement. Should I wait to see if hope will save me, with salvation waiting firmly by its side? Or should I rely solely on me; the cause of my depression? 

Depression, as I see it, is much like tar; dark, sticky, vile, and once you step in, it takes more than wishful thinking to get back out. Time has past on those feelings of dark, raw angst which fell into common step with anger and silence, forever present in my waking mind. 

Now, though, those feelings have solidified into a thin, dark, brittle substance that I dangerously walk on often. I can't help the need to step upon it; the sheen of it whispers to me the truth of the world. I know what people truly think, what they truly want to do and act upon. I know the lies they tell and the deeds they do. Humans. What wicked things we are. Murmurs keep saying things in my ear, things I'm not sure what to label. 

Truth? 

Opinion? 

Cold, unedited fact? 

I know what should be done, but I cannot bring myself to such a thing, though I have fantasized on more than one occasion. All of this could easily cease to be an issue on my already troubled brain. However, I fear the opportunity for such is gone, this is who I've become. 

There's something about human destruction that I find simply beautiful. Having such a strong, graceful creature bend and break under simple emotional torture is just a gorgeous picture to see. I could say that I don't want to be like this, that I want to be happy. I could say that I don't want to be put through such torture, but I can't. Because, we all want to be happy, don't we?

Author's Note

Opinions on anything? The help is all very much appreciated.

Reviews

[Wolfwind]

After taking some time to ponder this one, I've finally come to a conclusion that if one were to allow the human physical form to be an analogy to our own emotio-psychological existence in the universe. There would be moments where taking the body apart and applying different forces to it, would help us learn about our own inner workings. Cadavers could only answer so much, living souls would answer so much more.
Yet, while that's good and all, it's highly impractical for most individuals, thus life simply is a flow that we dance around, until at some point we become satisfied with out position, or dissatisfied. Hope become simply a additional title attached to something down the road that hasn't happened, that we'd like to. If we make it, then hope goes away and we keep walking, if we don't make it, it goes away and we call it regret or it morphs into low self-worth.
I saw that life is pathway, it's got speed bumps, mountains, pitfalls and many other things coming and going that will cause difficulty or help us out. But ultimately it's our own awareness of the universe we walk through that allows us to make the best time along the journey. For if we are aware, we learn, we gain factual or spiritual wisdom, which allows us to make better time to where we're going... and the endgame, is left up to chance, for that's the spice of life.

Nice Ink!
Aaron

[Wolfwind]

This piece brings forth many things into the mind. Far more than I have the time to put to pen at this precise moment. I shall return soon to offer my opinions.

Aaron