Strong Minds, Fragile Hearts.

Hope's Disguise.

I know.

I know that my future isn't bright.

It will never be.

But who is stopping me from trying.

I will try till my very last breathe.

Even if it kills me.

Because that is what hope is best at doing, it makes us breathe and at the end it suffocates us.

Hope is a beautiful disaster.

Hidden in things we love.

In times we cherish.

In people we want to live with our whole life.

Hope is like a beautiful star.

It's never there.

But it starts out by becoming a nova, so bright that we think we could fly over the horizons.

Then the nova becomes a star, maybe a little dimmer or a little more brighter.

But in the end it always loses it shines and crumbles into little pieces.

Hope does the same thing, it dies in the end.

Imagine a world fill with Hope.

Now, imagine it isn't.

Imagine where everything goes wrong and you don't have the power to change it.

Where everyone has their back against the wall.

Where everyone is selfish.

Where everyone is own their own.

Where being 'killed for' isn't heroic but a waste of life.

Where everyone protect themselves from the monsters that morph into the faces of people we love.

Because if they don't, they will die.

Then again, I am awfully aware of my future.

It isn't beautiful.

It isn't like a fairytale.

My future isn't carved out on an ancient tombstones or locked up in some treasure boxes in the depth of the Atlantic Ocean.

My future isn't written in palms or in someone's mind telling me it is my destiny.

My future isn't aligned on the stars at night.

My future is no where.

It isn't my hope.

My hope is me, myself. No one else.

I have the power in my hands to make my future.

Even if some lousy fortune-teller says I have to die for a greater cause.

I will put hands on my ears and walk away.

This is my life.

I have a choice.

Either to make it a beautiful light or a terrible disaster.