what else do we have, if not hope?
like how people involuntarily cast their eyes to the sky when the sun breaks through the gray of the storm. like lamp posts guiding restless souls in the gloom of the night to a somewhere, anywhere. like dreaming, where we allow most of what we could not once our eyes open to the waking of a new day. like the simple belief that everything--absolutely everything--will carry on to be yesterdays and then yesteryears. and no matter how much we insist that that piercing ache, or that feeling of demise is something we're not going to live through, we do live through it. if the world won't stop for bliss, then it sure wouldn't stop for a tragedy. /willtrytoedit
