But it’s a painful burden-
The wait, the fear, the frustration and even the hope, the sublime hope that things would turn out well.
Such a delicate thing, this expectation, this feeling of attachment and this yearning. It weighs down the soul and yet lifts it so high up, high enough to look down on all the daily events and somehow, somewhere, link it all up to one point of realization , realization of that dream of fulfillment, that dream of being able to smile happily and feel SATISFIED.
Hope is just a dodecahedron of denial, falsity and an escapist tendency assimilated together in the human mind in an attempt to mask and avoid reality, if only for a short while. Yet reality is inevitable, like night itself. Eventually, it will come to pass. And it does come to pass in a rather stark light. And when it comes to light, it brings forth an utter feeling of despair and all those ‘ sublime ‘ hopes just come to a conclusive end. It all ends. It all ends at one point, at one moment of harsh reality when the veil is suddenly lifted and it’s not as beautiful as it was in your mind. Rather, it’s brutal; it’s just an assimilation of false hopes and futile expectations.
That weak flame finally stutters and is extinguished into a trail of thin smoke. Even that smoke is soon dispersed by the winds of time.
And what is left at the end?