magic bullet

i would give everything i own if i could find a way to no longer experience hope. some would argue that to live without hope is to walk dead among the living. these people inevitably have significant others, close friends with free time, and dogs. realistically, they don't know jack about despair, about unendingly aloneness, about the crushing pain that comes everytime one trusts that perhaps finally things will be different. to whit, the life of the token single.

this is why contentment comes only in the wilderness, where all is quiet aloneness and i do not feel so very very outside of humanity. unfortunately, i have again returned to civilization, to isolation and to the dead weight freefall that comes from trusting someone that i would be enough. again i have returned to find myself self-castigating, 'how is it possible? how is it that again i have been so stupid? it is that thing-that stupid, malicious thing-hope; hope has become my undoing again.'


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reply i got:
"you dope. you're more than enough. i had a crush on you the first time i set eyes on you. but i was chaff. you're seriously an *amazing* person. you deserve all the happiness that life can deliver. now take off Yoshimi and put on some Brazilian Girls -- not for forever, just for today. listen to some Kate Rusby, or Eliza Carthy's "Angels and Cigarettes."

you're much too much for despair."

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so thanks for that, whoever left it.