The past is made out of facts... I guess the future is just hope.

Everything dies eventually. We all know that. People, cities, whole civilizations. Nothing lasts. So if existence was just binary, dead or alive, here or not here, what would be the fucking point in anything? My mom used to say that's why we have memory. And the opposite of memory - hope. So things that are gone can still matter. So we can build off our pasts and make futures.

...and we'll see what happens when we say Yes while this rigor mortis world screams No.

Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping that when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn't been gnawed to bones by the beasts below. Hoping you pull up anything at all.

Light comes always from the past; the hope remains the attribute of the future.

We've walked that balance between celebrating the past and celebrating the future, what we hope it to be.