I don't normally spend a lot of my time feeling hopeless. It's truly just not in my nature. I'm pretty good at coming to grips with reality and the lack of rhyme or reason involved in one's daily life. But lately I can't help but think about the randomness of things. The idea of "why". "Why" some people are born into loving, nurturing families and others are born into families where there is nothing but craziness and poverty and brutality? Or war? Or...
And what about "grace"? How do some, by the "grace" of whatever you believe in, manage to rise out of those situations to be amazing people, partly because they've played the hand they've been dealt particularly well.
Mostly, though, I've just been trying so hard to remind myself that no matter what I do, or how much I care, or how hard I work, there will always be things I cannot control. I'm not even talking about things that happen to me. Just the normal shit that one witnesses the longer one lives.
And I've been trying to not turn off how much that hurts, or seems unfair, and redirect it to something hopeful.