At the lowest points it is certainly hard to pinpoint what exactly kept me going.

Was it my cowardice of just giving up and ending it? Was the feeling of all is not lost yet? It is a rather hard query but a fortuitous one if the answer to it is found.

Through the constant monotone drag of life I query myself often whether this is worth anything at all and what's the end goal, but I know the end goals is what we make it ourselves, yet why should I not stop now and begone?

I do not know, yet I strive forwards, no matter how dire the battle is, never forsake it.

Unlike some, I do have others I can lean upon for help yet I tend not to due to my will of independence and solitude, yet I mourn my solitude aptly.

I just suffer through like most of my people did, deal with it and go on, what else is there left to do? Perish earlier or perish when it's time? Who cares?

We go on and go on through the pain and the drag, we muster whatever's left and pull ourselves through the prickly tunnels of life.

And as to hope, I do not hope, I just wish or I just see what the future will hold up anyway, we live today and we wake up in another today.

Overall, I do not know, I just go.