Where do false hopes eventually go? Are they relegated to the basement of your psyche, stashed away like elementary school essays and shoes that are too scuffed and broken even to give away to the Salvation Army? Are they managed and maintained by some other part of your being even if they have been consciously forgotten? And what if you are the kind of person who harbors guilt over your mere existence? Do your false hopes weigh less, if they were to be placed on a scale, than those of someone who believes that she is deserving of her hopes?
Are there people in the world who are immune to magical thinking? I was given a reality-check talk today and I didn't like it. That is, I didn't like being told that my hopes were false, even if I knew that they were. On occasion, I have willed my false hopes into being, breathed life into them even if it has nearly taken the life out of me. You would think that this process is painful, to be avoided, but it's not. It's euphoric, liberating even, to forget yourself over a flight of fancy. I am not a dogmatic person by nature, but I must admit, it feels good to have a dogged, unwavering mission. I recommend it at least a couple of times in life.
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