My writing style is very cynical. Oh, I myself am not very cynical in real life. Every horrible thing I say about mankind is followed by a whispered “But I love you all the same” in my mind. But when I write I’ll always mock the more optimistic aspects of life, even if I truly believe in those aspects in reality.
I’ll brutally abuse the concept of friendship without naturally and unconsciously until it’s anguished screams jog me back to my senses.
I’ll ruthlessly attack the idea of objective morality without a thought or regret.
And some days, when I’m especially cruel, I’ll even question the idea of the importance of love.
But there’s one concept that’s too beautiful for me to mock even at my most cynical. I find it too beautiful a thing and concept. My mental knees buckle from the thought of trying to mock it.
That concept is Hope.
Hope, that made Harry Potter stand his ground against the Basilisk and allowed him to save Ginny from Tom Riddle’s soul
Hope, that allowed Ash to fight off Team Rocket the first time they met, even when Pikachu could not help.
Hope, that kept Olimar going when stranded on a strange planet with a broken ship and limited gas.
Hope, that, along with Love, allowed Shinji to break free of his own doubts and embrace life, even when its touch stung.
In an age that seems to worship villains, I stay by the heroes against all odds because they are the ones who stand by Hope. Superman, Batman, Harry Potter, Samuel Vimes, Luke Skywalker, Son Goku, all of my childhood.
Now I see hope in real life. On the newspapers, internet, neighbourhoods and university grounds. I saw it back in Vietnam in the eyes of the poor students in shoddy, run down schools, reading from textbooks so old they were hardly legible. I found it in the eyes of beggars selling books (which I bought) and the children watching cartoons on TV.
The world needs hope to go on. With hope comes support. With support comes planning, action, goals. And with goals comes, perhaps, victory.