Fragmented

Hope ruins people. It ruined me. Hope deliberately betrayed my perspective which I tried so hard to create, it’s like standing on the edge of failure clinging desperately only to be pushed by reality, living through each day hoping and praying that everything would change, that it would make sense, that one morning I’d wake up to a better sight of the world, a world which is less painful, less frustrating, less cruel, a world that doesn’t closely resemble misery.

 

But every morning is not a start, it’s not a beginning, not a chance, not a blessing, it is yet another part of an endless cycle of decimation, a continuous struggle for change. Hope means weakness. Hope means defeat. Hope is an evil form of profound devotion. Hope is a lie, a fabricated excuse for deliverance. Hope destroys people. It destroyed me.

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