Pushing the rock up the hill again

I hear frequently these days, ‘you have to know when to quit.’ Perhaps that’s true, but the iron willed stalwart in me doesn’t seem to understand that, and it’s not always for poor reasoning. At least that’s what I tell myself! 

I feel like lately I’m fighting a cynicism that I used to possess as a strong character trait. It’s not a good thing to look at the world as if it’s all bad and everyone is out to get you. I was raised hearing that a lot as I grew up and it took a long time to get out from under that feeling.  The remedy to that view is hope.  However hope can make torture all the worse. You are getting beaten with a proverbial hammer, and you hear a voice say ‘it’s over now’, a short pause, you take a breath, and to your horror the hammering begins again.  It’s hard to keep that hope up sometimes, the hope that things will improve.  The thing I am starting to realize is my will is becoming fused with my hope, but in a sense they are very similar to one another.  I think the stubborn ability not to quit, despite all odds, can either be called Hope or Willpower.  

I feel like I am rambling and I likely am. I’ll find the point I was trying to make here soon, maybe. 

I bought flowers last night, in a state of furious angry emotion, I’m not completely sure why I bought them.  It turns out they were a great purchase as my day unfolded today.  They were given to someone, but it wasn’t the flowers that improved the day I found it, it was simply my presence, which reeks of hope! Part of me shakes my head as I walk up to the proverbial Boulder and begin to push it up the hill that seemingly has no top.  I’m unsure if I will lose grip and it will roll over me as it tumbles back to flatter ground. I have no idea. 

I also still have no idea where this post was going…. 

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