Warrior Spirit...

I think it was Nick Cave (the Bad Seeds one), who said something about Hope being a "warrior spirit." It resonates with me. Hoping against Hope. Sometimes I find myself hanging onto Hope as a life-raft. Even I am surprised how I can conjure up a lightening-flash of Hope in the lowest & darkest of times. Maybe it's just an impulse, finding Hope for no good reason? Lately Hope comes with a little smile of incomprehension. It is sort of a bold "fuck you" to the tenor of the times. The idea of giving up Hope is just Hopeless, distasteful, anti-Life. Hope is just a tiny glimmer of an intention; a speck of light, a strange, little, zingy feeling shooting through my veins. Can't explain it. I think it's just embedded in me, it's there with me, I suspect it will be with me as long as I can draw a breath, blink an eye. So yeah, the shit is coming down hard, things look quite dark & bleak. The evil-doers and assholes are ascendent, but I just can't stop that funny little warrior spirit bubbling up, animating my being. You know it's a gnarly, nasty, recalcitrant, rebellious, fuck-you, Bartelby the Scrivener: "I would prefer not to," thing. Maybe it's tough-minded, hard-wired discipline? An always rooting for the Underdog position. Losing is part of it. The losses come fast, hard and relentlessly, like a ravenous shark. Disagreeing with my fellow Humans? That's cool. Being out-numbered, pushed around by the bully? Made to eat dirt?  Oh, well. The not giving in, the resistance to that shite, makes one stronger. "Fuck, everything didn't go my way." Ha. That's life, buddy. That's when you turn to the rebels like Joe Strummer, "The Future is Unwritten." That's when Hope really comes into play. Hope; spiky, gnarly, weezing, cursing, crusty, beat-up, you know, I think it's true, Hope dies last, the dark is always contending with the light, it's a battle moment to moment. Damn the torpedoes.