Swing, Swing.

"If you're gonna sit here and hope that it gets done without actually doing it." "You're wasting your time."

I'm not gonna sit here and wait. Neither am I gonna actually do it. I am hoping and hope sometimes sweeps me off my feet with its empty promises. And as I fly in mid-air, the hopes within itself can only hold me up that high. I quickly fall to the ground only to find that all hope is gone.

I was blog hopping earlier (yes. my not-even-half-written-essay is crying out for me even as I blog now about how I neglected it for reading random blogs) Well, if I did not read those random blogs, I would not have been blogging right now. And I would not have been asking/answering this question that many of you might have come across before. Would you rather find lots and lots of money or true love before you die? Key word being, 'find'. 'search'. It is indefinite. The probability of you finding lots of money somehow seems like it weighs more than finding your true love.

Finding true love is like walking through a forest where every tree mirrors each other and you end up running around in circles.

Finding true love is like a caught fish, gasping for air.

Finding. Searching. Indefinite. And then there is hope.