Hope?

I have always been a person who, no matter what, never lost my hope, faith, or belief in the world. I always believed that humans are inherently good; that they will always somehow choose the right thing to do. It may take a long time, but they will see their own greed and fallacies that are pushing us into darker and darker times. Every time someone would question my faith or challenge my hope, I would still hold onto the belief that no, humanity hasn't died yet, that people can see beyond their divisions and beyond the categories they've put themselves in. Yet each time, I would be proven wrong. The people who doubted would say, "I told you so". Even then, even in those darkest moments, I would believe. 

But lately that faith has shaken up. Each time an individual destroys another human for something so abstract, something inside of me dies. The love and faith inside of me feel as if they're being buried under a mountain of hopelessness. I try to find ways to lift up that mountain, but that hill of despair and death keeps getting heavier.

Every day, I read a character out of someone's imagination, trying to do the right thing, making mistakes, but correcting them, trying to look beyond themselves, and the identity their community has chosen for them. I refuse to believe that humans can imagine such traits without them ever existing in the real world. I refuse to believe that peace is a fantasy. 

Yet with every passing hour, harmony seems like something that only exists in fairy tales. It feels as if peace is a distant, untouchable lullaby that is taught to children but is considered naive and idealistic even by those who preach it.

"If you have but the faith of a mustard seed, you shall move mountains." 
I am not sure if I want to believe this any longer. Yet I have hope, for me, for us all. Because to live a life without hope is to not live at all. I hope I never forget this.

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