back.
Hope didn’t die even when selling drugs seemed the only way I could uplift myself. In fact, for a long time the daydreams of becoming the next Scarface or Freeway Ricky Ross seemed to reinvigorate Hope. I didn’t know I’d confused hope with greed like people typically confuse one thing for another. I didn’t realize there was absolutely no way I could be hopeful about anything that included poisoning my brothers and sisters, so successful my subliminal seductions.
There’s so many wonderful inventions and creations today, yet most are used the wrong way. Everyone’s busy figuring what will I create to sell as opposed to how will I matter. And despite social interaction now being a virtual phenomenon, everyone wants the world, not their peers to like them. We show skin to get people to like pictures or flash money or guns or drugs to get people to like pictures. We sell drugs so we can acquire guns and drugs and money so we can show them on social media so people will like our pictures.
I wrote a book named: So Much for Happy. It’s a dystopian tale where only three places exist: Happy, UnHappy and Hope, with Hope being a state of mind with infinite possibilities. In writing the ten books of that series, I’ve realized that Hope’s not dead—it’s yet to be created. So I challenge you all to help me—to create your Hopes with me then merge our Hopes together. Make your children create their Hopes with you. Block the Wi-Fi connection if need be. Help them if they become stuck or frustrated. I guarantee you’ll love what we come up with.