Hope is a dangerous thing.

They say it’s what keeps us going. Without hope, you would lose the drive to move forward. Without hope, you would not be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel simply because you would have lost hope about ever finding your way out of the tunnel.

But flip it to another side of the coin and you’ll see just how dangerous hope can be. If the rainbow ends in the middle of the ocean and you want to reach it from shore, you would keep going towards it, even as you wade deeper in and the waves threaten to pull you under. Because of hope. That silly impossible hope that you will reach the end of the rainbow and find that elusive pot of gold. That silly impossible hope that blinds you to the dangers you have brought upon yourself. And it’s because of that silly impossible hope that you would not realise just how foolish you have been until you are in too deep and become too exhausted to swim back to shore.

Sometimes I tell myself that the pot of gold is nothing but a silly delusion. But the stupid little beacon of hope shines through at the most inopportune moments. And so I find myself wading deeper and deeper into the cold dark bottomless depths of the ocean.

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