Hope is an insect. Flies around you. Can infect you. You can chase it. And not catch it. It promises fulfilment. Delivers disappointment. It keeps you alive. Eventually kills you. Stretches relationships. Promises good sex. Delivers no sex. It hides behind her gown. Beneath her undergarments. Inhabits the lazy mind. Promises heaven. Delivers hell. Hope is an insect.
Oblivion is a bad habit. No pressure. No compulsion. No confusion. Pleasant inertia. Oblivion or money. One of them is more important. Than the other. Need to give up one. For the other. I am unsure. I like oblivion. It is easy. It is a choice. I hate money. I need it. I cannot live without it. It is elusive. And I have to give up my oblivion. For money.