Theory of Hope

There’s something about hope, isn’t there? We always cherish it. We never dispute it. And we always, always follow this twinkling star in the sky. What is it about hope that makes us lies to the ones we hold dear? Why is it such a powerful potion that we cannot seem to live without it? Somehow hope never seemed to exist when we were little? We wished for gifts, we begged for attention, but we never hoped for something. Children don’t know the meaning of hope, yet for adults, the message of hope is enough to gather crowds, to gather millions, to gather votes… how did hope become so preeminent for adults? What happened in between our childish, hopeless selves and adulthood? Is the string of disappointment during our teenage and college years enough to have made us give up on ourselves and start believing in this irrational thing? Do we need to believe, need we to hope for a better future? Did our heart and optimism shatter when we first lost our love of our live? Is the disappointment that you no longer are the brightest or the fastest or the most charming or any other superlative you beckoned upon yourself too much to bear for us? Did we seek irrationality because we couldn’t face rationality? Do we overindulge on hope to escape from the bitterness of reality? Or do we hope because without it, without it we’d be “natural”, bound by the rules of our earthly existence that we must grow old and we will lose the ones that are dear to us and that each day you survive something else perishes. Maybe hope is our ultimate survival mechanism, maybe it is the only way to keep rational thinking people from being rational? And if we establish this principle, well then why not hope, or why not even use the word believe, that we, the human race, has been perfectly designed to live as humans in an inhumane world?