Hope is despair in disguise.

I've always been at loggerheads over the idea of hope.
I've tried to embrace it at times and I've shirked it off my shoulder at other instances.

To believe in the contrary, to let your feelings take over to give you a sense of control over the unknown, to coax yourself with the thought of that shining bright light waiting at the end of the dark tunnel you've been trodding on- Is it really necessary to get you through the hard times?

Come to think of it, hope is despair in disguise.

Our fixation with positivity leads us down the road of misconstruing our own thoughts and sugar coating the bitter truths with one too many spoonful of diabetic hope.

It soon turns into a habit. A disease. A coping mechanism with a faulty foundation.

Hope. Belief. Are they the words that get you through the day?

I'd say, be a realist, take the beating, acknowledge the faults, get up and carry yourself forward.
But please don't hope for the best.
Don't let yourself be disillusioned by its sweetness.

Don't forget the bad times. Don't forget the good times. Take it all in.

Just don't raise your own expectations by believing and rooting for the next thing that comes your way to be a cakewalk through Candyland.

Let's not, for once, hope for the best.
What's the point in getting your spirits down?

Let's just be.

Today, I rekindled the dying flame inside of me.

I was feeling really low since the evening as i began to miss him,cried and blogged a short poem on that.
(Note to self : Catharsis doesn't really help.)
My hormonal fluctuation of the month joined in the party and started playing an evil joke on me by not  letting me come out of the sepia like mode I was in.

My assignments due for tomorrow have ended up being the collateral damage of this hormonal flood situation.

Meg happened to be going through an all time low as well.

Facebook chat soon turned into our venting platform.

She wrote more than i did. Well, cause she did have more worries and reasons to be in a state of  frusadion (frustration-sadness-confusion).

I was just there for her, writing what I felt needed to be written.

She bid me goodbye but soon added(in her own way) that I had made her feel better.

Strangely, i was not feeling down and about any longer.

I guess counselling is sort of like helping a friend.

Helping others is an antidote to help you overcome your own sadness.
That's the way i'm built.
I don't question it anymore.
I feel deeply for those who suffer injustice. I cry when i see sad documentaries or even short films about the sufferings borne by people in this world.
And I keep on racking my brains over projects that could help others in future or in present time.

But, i had stopped believing in change somewhere along the line.
I had started to focus so much on the problems that it had begun to feel like coming up with solutions would still not suffice.

Self belief is a tricky thing.

New day and unfinished assignments, hello-goodbye.