Survival is a vague and interesting concept that can’t always be easily defined. But the one thing most of us can agree on is that survival in and of itself is not usually enough.

Survival has a base, hollow core to it. It’s the act of existing without any substance to the continuation of your being. One can only suppose that surviving is a means to some other end. That the empty act of survival might someday lead to something of a greater substance.

It’s what they call hope sometimes when they (whoever they are) wax sentimental. Hope. That strange and impulsive instinct that seems to guide most all living things. The concept that it can get better if we can only outlast the current bad. Hope is one of people’s strongest assets and one of life’s greatest evils.

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