This dialogue was running for so long that time already had lost its meaning, the never ending flow of counter arguments were no longer defying my capacity of understanding my own reality. However, somewhere beneath all that rhetorical pomp and glare, I realized that we were finally getting to the finalement this time around.
"
Then she said that as long as I don't give up on myself, hope is a simple detail. She just forgot to mention that the devil is in the detail.
Better is to give in to hopelessness, if that means to be free indeed. Smart devil, they say - abiding with the latter resource to undermine whatever chances of a comeback. Poor devil, I say - not able to realize that even when the hope withers away, faith still kicks in. Just reminded me that the one who is known as 'father of faith' was also the one known for 'hopelessly believing".
So I answered that hope is basically the result of our choices. Choosing truth over illusion, belief over disregard.
And also said that my living grasp would never again be entangled among the frivolity, pragmatic thinking and, on top of that, the entrustment to a sense of fake comfort behind a desk, a label or a tag.
Our fight should never be to defend hope, and more importantly, should never stop if (or when) hope abandons us to apparent nothingness. Because that's the exact point in which we are truly fighting, based on reality. It all comes down to faith.
Faith over hope, faith over sight. Faith over doubt.
"
Along with my muted (and concluded) protest, my soul finally agreed with me (or was I that agreed with her?) and went silent.
And there was peace again, peace I haven't seen or heard of in a long time.
.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário