My hopeful thinking takes me to a far away place and time in the future, where I'm sitting around my grandchildren in a cozy home that smells of lemon pies and freshly brewed coffee.. Telling them about the monstrous time I've lived in, the cruelty of its sociaty, the brutal family I grew up with and how hideously they'd think of it living in such a good place and growing in such good homes and how they'd appreciate the feeling of peace, safety and love.
But that's just my hopeful thinking, because the universe is telling me that I'm just a man who will live a long lonely life and probably die alone, the universe is telling me that my hopeful thinking is what I think will save me but it's what will end up killing me when I'm 85. The universe lost hope in me, but I refuse to lose it. I see hope. And I still hope. I'm full of it.
And my grandchildren will read this.