Sentiment
There are points in my day where I question myself for what I am doing and what is the goal for this action. I’ve done it since I was 14 years old and the motives have changed as has I. Like for instance I write on this blog because for some reason maybe having that out stretched hand on here letting people in my head my actually might help. The only thing is it goes against what I believe in what already seems to be an already contridiction in my personality. I feel like we all do it in some way shape or form, Holding on tp this non existant and ever so fleeting feeling like we’ll be the exception in whatever predicament we get oursselves into.
Hope is a strange thing it’s that gamble in like that keeps us peeping through our own hand so we have the glimpse of witnessing something amazing. The sad part is how ever-so rare those moments are. My generation thrives on every bit of thinking they are special. We aren’t not even me. Doesn’t mean that we can’t be. Yes we are all unique in someways, but we all have a very similar way of thinking. Hope is a dangerous thing to a person, It can cause them to make the worst or best choices on a whim of a moment. I dont know if I want to be part of that life because hope is that double edge sword that can be used against us even while in our possession.