Clang Riparip

“I define hope as a narcotic. It courses through our vei s, igniti.g ideas and feelings and emotions that all work in collaboration to produce a better to.orrow, while leaving today but a distant memory. The essence of its unknown and unseen promise is beautiful and addicting to those who are in need of its satiati g grace.
The dependence on the idea of possibility can become a crutch however; an excuse for ignoring the here and now. It can swiftly morph from a therapeutic escape to an addictive obsession that somewhere over the rainbow lies the answer that will make everything right again.
I am thankful to call myself a true addict to hope's mind altering panacra. Its blissful nirvana can seem both inconceivably irrational yet entirely fathomable to anyone lost in a sea of uncertainty. Just as age brings wisdom, experience brings the understanding that no matter what pot of gold lies at the end of your hopeful rainbow, the relief it casts over tragedy and heartache is the power behind its true magic.
To the hope that resides in the depths of my being, thank you.”
― Ivan Rusilko, Entrée

“People are looking at us.”
“Maybe it’s because we’re hot.” I whip my head toward him. “What?” he asks all innocently. “We are”.”
― Nyrae Dawn, Searching for Beautiful

“You’re hot, I’ll give you that, but you kind of ruin it when you open your mouth.”
― Nyrae Dawn, Searching for Beautiful

“I see her now.”
I stop and look at him. “Um, see who?”
“You. The girl I used to know.”
― Nyrae Dawn, Searching for Beautiful