This little thing might be a brother or sister to my previous work. I've (most ambiguously) decided to call it Hopes and Promises. You see little of trust in either.
Some things of what this lady says might be taken lightly. There are things amiss.
But I don't trust that quixiotic knight either. I wonder what crumbling hopes do to his morals.
(Of course our gallant knight would never get the idea to test one of those ropes...)
Do not part with your illusions, said Mark Twain:
"When they are gone, you may still exist, but you have ceased to live."
Still, I've sort of half resolved to do that this year.
Even if it might be a little painful.
Even if it cuts the chains that keep my feet down on this poor little planet.
A closer look. Splattery-splash! I didn't say that being true to yourself doesn't hurt.
On a more philosophical note, what do we mean by "live"? I keep returning to that stupid Nietzschean maxime of "What doesn't kill you", etc. but I do feel it does, slowly. And is it really a bad thing?
