My strength and perseverance are characteristics of mine that I can never count on. They falter and oscillate and there are frequent moments of complete despair when I find myself in a dead-end and there’s absolutely none of these beautiful futures ahead. It’s when all my actions to try shaping a successful destiny seem to be in vain, and all my accomplishments are met with… silence.
These are moments when I can’t think of a way my problems and traumas could work out. It might be a sign of short-sightedness, but considering I am still here and alive, I there have always been beacons of hope to keep me hitting the road.
The foolish futurewards projection that these lighthouses produce boosts me to keep trying, though I’m usually going around clueless. It is the ongoing conflict in me about automatic efforts taking me onward. It causes in me the assumption that it’s only through them that I am still alive, so it’s the reason for a certain aversion.
But also frequent signals cause the assumption that makes me be more willing to try giving up, just to see these beacons of hope. It’s a dangerous assumption, of course, as the absence of the beacon makes me profoundly frustrated.