“When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”
I’m not sure whether that is supposed to mean they run away, but it doesn’t sound very encouraging at all. I make wishes almost every night on stars that don’t even know my name, and I wonder.. well, hell, how many other people are making wishes? Is it silly to want to rely on extraneous exploding balls of gas?
My wish hasn’t been granted yet, but I WILL keep believing. Maybe those stars aren’t as enigmatic as they appear, and maybe there’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow… but it’s nice to be able to have something to hold on to. A baby will suck its thumb, and once mama says nono, it will ingest fairytales instead of dead skin cells… and continue to do so until reality violently, irreparably disrupts the surface of the fantasy. Or maybe the grown up babe will hold on… desperately, tragically, beautifully.