Friday, July 12, 2013

Enough to hang one's self with

I'm talking about hope, not the other coir coiled thing. Sometimes we just have too much of it. Of course we need a great deal of it, but there comes a time when we should stop hoping and accept what is, because that hope, the anxiety, the exhilaration for the future, the projected outcome can devastate us. Kind of like eating ice candy in sub-zero temps and hoping you'll finish it. The thing does not melt unless it's in your mouth and your lips are freezing and so is your tongue. You can persevere and finish the damn thing, but at what cost? Blue lips, cold insides , and it only tasted like the local anesthesia the dentist gives you, NUMBNESS. 
Hope is numbing,  and well feeling the real sting can be good sometimes. 


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