17 mars 2022
cecil
When does uncertainty tip over from novel exhilation to emptiness, to the final stage of hope before you quit holding onto it altogether, instead seeking escape from any precariousness or fear that comes in hand with the unknown. No hope is free of childish, incessant questioning; many would rather face a cold acceptance of what is. Sometimes hope cant be lost even if you wish for its departure, and find youself slowly confined to this self-made limbo of recounted doubts, unable to process any pain, but with no aspiration to carry on as it once was. There is no way to leave this place, yet there was never free will in finding it. Inescapable and cyclical thought.
