Hope is epoh

Why do we try following the path of hope when we know that all hope actually does is set you up for a big crash? Why do we try reaching out to others when we know that the hope and warmth is going to end up as a spear of ice chilling in our own hearts? And why, oh why do we do it again and again? Because we’re fucking fools, that’s why. Because, against all reason and against all prior experience we convince ourselves that this time it will be different, that she is different and of course, you set yourself up for a dreadful and very painful fall because it’s not and she’s not. And the heart takes more wounds again, until it’s covered with scar tissue and feelings become numb and hope shrivels away like a plant in winter and I wish it would fucking stay away because I don’t need this anymore. I don’t want it anymore. I don’t need hope to be raised only to have it smashed time and time again by someone then the shards jammed into my heart. I’m so bloody tired of it. You can only take this so many times before you feel yourself giving up and drowning in a morass of isolation, despair and crushed dreams. Real life? No wonder I prefer movies and books. Real life is horrible and the people in it always let you down.

And epoh? It’s an ancient Irapaho word meaning ‘pathetic or pitiable loser’. And obviously its hope backwards which is how I feel right now. Hope bubbles up like a hot spring before being crushed beneath the moving glacier of real life, which grinds over everything, relentlessly, sucking meaning and warmth for all before it.

And for all the happy couples basking in post-Valentine’s bliss (when you spend a fortune to try and tell each other the things you should already bloody know to keep card companies happy), a pox on you all, you smug, happy bastards. Like Frankensteins’ unfortunate monster, if I cannot inspire love then I will inspire fear and loathing… Oh wait, at least halfway there already – just have to work on the fear thing… Now excuse me, I have a black cloud to go and sit below. Love, who needs it?

Sorry it’s not a funny witticism of a blog today – I’m tired of being Mr Happy Entertainment Monkey for everyone.