Hope is giggling upon your hopelessness

Imagine a road looping endlessly, spiraling cause it forgot where it was supposed to end. Each morning I take that same road. Not to anywhere, just around. Trees line the sidewalk like ghosts of what they used to be, their leaves frail, curling in on themselves. They chomp beneath my shoes. The air smells like gasoline and old firewood, burned and forgotten.

I pass houses with windows cracked like spiderwebs, paint peeling in strips like dead skin. A dog barks behind a fence out of habit. I was frightening thinking it was to alert me of someone. Tired of being negated. A car backfires somewhere down the block. Mine groans like it’s had enough, too. The radio sputters static before settling on a song that feels too quixotic Lately, even the music sounds inauthentic.

There is some noise any moment now. A slammed door, a tailpipe pop, another scream. This can finally shatter the part of me that’s still pretending to hold it together. Fists fly in the background. Brothers scream up front. The same old loop, chaotic this time.

Words from others miss the mark, always. They don’t land because they don’t come from any place of meaning, a place that cares. Nature freezes. Trees give up. The sky stops trying. Philosophy feels like a scam. Poetry just makes it worse.

Reality kicks the door in when you’re already down. At some point, caring about what people say, full or half, is pointless. Who is seeking a resolution? So I dream while I’m awake. Same dream every day. A nightmare shaped like an eight with no start or end.

We’re a scalene triangle. No equal sides, symmetry or harmony. Nature laughs again, but my sister is too busy sculpting herself into someone else. She is probably retreating. I’m stuck somewhere between feeling too much and nothing at all.

Meaningless conversations open the door to all this. I’m not searching for love or change. I’m searching for something as simple as the stars to tickle my head, or the wrinkles to show up and tell me I’ve survived something. Waiting to feel something. Then – bang. There goes a Porsche Macan. It was about crash into me in the heat. Sweat drips down my back, and I’m seeing a ’80s action film Predator right now. Fuel hits the pavement, the miasma rising like fear from my skin, pressing against my chest until my eyes sting from everything I’ve been trying not to feel.

I guess you think either believe the world is good, or you believe it’s not. If you manage to stay somewhere in between, after all the neurons have fired, you’ve reached a happier state of clarity.

To endure universally, to just keep going, becomes the only break-even point to everything we fall into. That’s been my life this past year. Fortunately... and unfortunately.

Descriptively write something?

NO TITLE NEEDED

use SENSORY WORDS whenever possible (touch, sight, sound, taste, and smell) to paint a picture of the environment, thing, or thoughts of the author and the author him/herself.

make non-living things living things or the other way around when in need

describe the theme/significant scenes, elements, or objects (must not be more than 3 so that you'd not get deviate from your work) of the prompt by exemplifying it through the help of the prompt you receive (like I wrote in response to a picture)

'Learning is infinite, but actions are modifiable through learning'