Yesterday, or a few days ago, or something, I said that I hoped the world would be brighter when I woke up.
Well, like with almost every hope, it’s been false (I still have a chance for my dead-in-a-shallow-grave-by-30 hope, ‘cause there’s a few years left on that clock). Either way, it’s stupid to hope for things to get better. It’s easier, it’s better to just hope that you get stronger from everything, that once the storm has torn off all of your armor, once the wind and the blowing needles of sand wear away everything around you that keeps you safe, unhurt- that once you’ve been battered and broken and shattered and shaken by the horrible, howling tempest- you can put all that armor back on, built up with stronger pieces that won’t break the next time, or the next, or the next. Hope that you can build a suit so strong that not even death can worm its way inside- become perfect. That is what I hope for. Light fades. Strength abides.
One day, I will be perfect.