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I have always found hope somewhere between the darkness of the night and the coldness of the dawn. Sometimes its just faith that the sun will rise again, birds will chirp again, trees will bloom again.

Lately hope is more elusive, hiding in the dark clouds, its harder to find solid ground to rest and relax. Almost a self-fulfilling prophecy, the world will suck even if I begin to feel better. Of ‘How can I feel better if the world isn’t?’

Realising that each of us feeling better is part of the world healing. Everytime one person finds hope, an imaginary tree somewhere holding this world together sprouts a new leaf. And everytime someone loses hope the tree loses a leaf. The world is a delicate balance of finding and losing hope, of our continued search for hope. Driven sometimes by our hopelessness and despair and other times by our faith.

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