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There are two kinds of hope. The poetic hope and the necessary hope. Poetic hope is not disingenuous in and of itself, but it exists in constant danger of of being bastardized. While there exist many occasions of poetic hope in a beautiful and balanced expression, it can often devolve into a show of masturbatory, nonsensical, uninspired, slogan driven drivel. It can be artful, but it can also be turned into a whore, finding its expression in R. Kelly songs or a guidance counselor’s office posters. Poetic hope is abstract and vague, it is imprinted onto the striving individual and expressed loudly for others to here an admire, it is expressed to motivate oneself. It indeed is a pre-requisite of accomplishment, and can also become an avoidance of reality.

Necessary hope remains unseen and consistent. Necessary hope is just that–necessary, it’s vital. It is never displayed in any pre-meditated fashion. One doesn’t put together a speech to express a necessary hope. Necessary hope is expressed in routine and quiet decisions. One’s decision to unromantically and artlessly persist is an expression of necessary hope. To claim hopelessness while simultaneously continuing to pursue a goal, as unexciting as it may be, is a display, as paradoxical as it may be, of necessary hope. I do not find it too out of place to lose hope, and furthermore, the loss of hope is not as tragic as many claim.  I think many of us do lose hope, but still recollect it poetically as nostalgia, as something to encourage and hold onto while one has it.

To lose hope does not mean that one exists without it, it means exactly what it says, that one has lost hope–one has misplaced it. It is still there, swelling in places that aren’t easily recognized as such because it is altogether necessary.

The act of willfully choosing to exist is a display of hope, but it’s often mocked as compliance. Those who mock necessary hope are lazy and in error. Necessary hope hides its goal, rather it protects its goal. One puts with with an onslaught of bullshit and injustice in order to keep doors open for his or her loved ones. Necessary hope engages and never acknowledges words that refer to failure (those terms are not recognized because they refer to a framework which has become void), not out of blindness with drunk ambition, but because anything else would be would lead to a dismantling of purpose, a denial of the role  one did not chose but has the responsibility to uphold-and that is cowardly, selfish, and naive.

 

on and on and on

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A person’s development is riddled with misguided expressions which occur as a result of ego. There are a number of causes which light fires under many types of people, but the causes are, in so many cases, secondary. Further down that road of development, a new self-defeating desire invades which serves to neutralize distractions in hopes of giving one serenity. Life is an unwinding and we finally put to bed one grand hope to make way for a more humble hope. Our existence, according to the fervor of youth, is a gradual decline which we foolishly hope to reverse; our existence, according to the complacency and embittering of age, is an anti-climatic autumn of beautiful and dormant “once upon a time’s.” It is, on the one hand, something very bothersome and melancholy; and it is on the other hand very peaceful. It’s as if the world is completely altered in the course of a few years. As Regina Spektor sings, “you’re young until you’re not.” Of course, there can be a condescension in claiming old age in comparison to the silly youth, and I do not intend that. What I’m suffering is the awakening to what was always the case, but what I supposed I was above. I am told that we all go through it, but that is not satisfying because, regardless of what I say, I want to make in impact. The more I try to claim about my own state of existence, the more I realize that I am not alone. For many, a solidarity with others could be comforting, for me, it is depressing. I enjoy having things in common with others, but my rabid insecurity demands recognition above and beyond! I wish to recognize community as an ornament, as a claim to my humility (a simultaneously paradoxical claim on my ego). Ahh, it’s truly pathetic, but even so, I can’t become unique. I merely blend in to the room of well dressed people furiously focused on their treadmills.  We’re all the same, some dress themselves better than others, some understand themselves better than others, some understand their role better than others, some know what they want, most don’t.