I feel inspired by a post from VD on the subject hope or the ability to always keep on playing for a possibilities to happen.
Two and half years of dealing with death, loss, depression and Covid 19 making people insane has taught me some things.
Hope. I lived every single day in 2020 with a series of regrets and daymares as I worked my job and tried to not cry and lose my mind to despair.
I had learned in my childhood that pain wouldn’t go away from the loss of my Dad but if I added on time the pain got lighter and I could carry it better.
I lived 2020 with that mindset. I treatee months like days. My consent mindset was I just got add on more days. I’ll get through this shit. I just got to push through.
I lived for the hope that the nightmares and daymares would ease with time. I just had to hope for a day…a day like today even when I think about the shit and not feel the bitch depression trying to fuck with mind and drive me mad.
The day came and went. I still have days when the bitch whispers to me but again, I put some time in and the sting of her attacks just to leave breathless any longer.
Hope. The ability to keep playing when it seems like a losing game. The ability to keep on fighting when it seems like your one missed step from being knocked out. The ability to keep on moving for a possibility that your opponent will make a mistake. The ability to not give up until it really is over. Hope. It’s not foolish to hope because to be hopeless is to be a victim for somebody handle like a toliet or a conversative back bottom hoe.