The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams
This is strange because optimism used to be my second home. Like most people, I had hope.
Even when I was unemployed, beyond broke, and incredibly alone, hope was there. It was the fuel that got me out of bed bright and early every morning to work on my writing before work.
Now, Everything's different.
They say with age, comes wisdom. But maybe with some people it's more like: with age comes crippling depression. I say this because the older I get, the more I distrust hope. The more fickle and unreliable it seems. I guess an optimist can only fail so many times before she realizes there's no reason to expect anything other than her failure. And thus begins the distrust of hope.
OMG, this is such a downer. I'm sorry if anyone is reading this - I'm just trying to be honest about my feelings . So, if you don't want to go down this depressing journey with me, you might want to stop reading now and find a more uplifting writer's blog to peruse : )
But anywayz ...I've failed a lot and failed hard- at things that really mattered to me. And now that I'm in my thirties and I've got at least six solid "life failures" under my belt and absolutely no successes- I just kind of don't see the point in expecting anything other than more failures. This translates to a future of bleakness and disappointment.
That said, when well-meaning people try to offer reasons to "hope," it just annoys me. This is because, for someone like me, hope is cruel. It's like enticing a cat to try and catch the red dot of a laser light. Giving false hope to a person who never gets anything right is just flat out mean.
So, when I think about the future- I don't see anything good.
And this concludes today's morbid blog post.