There's this place called Hope about 130 kilometers from where I live. I always see the name in the highway signs when I drive back home from a night out. It would say something like, Hope - 120 kilometers.

Back before I had a car I still saw those signs when I was being driven or when I walked by the highway. It was a strange sign to me and although I knew that the place was probably some crappy little city before heading into the wilderness and passing into Alberta, I still felt like it was some magical place that everyone needs to visit one day.

It's something I never shared with anyone, seeing the signs for Hope and seeing it so far away. It was such a sad thought that never failed to fuck my mood up and it always confused me as to why.

I promised myself that one day I would see it and I would be glad that Hope was nothing but a small city in a small area in this small world. But I never end up reaching it, no matter how much I try to go there.

There's always an excuse; it's too hard to get there, It's too rainy, I don't have enough money. But really there's no reason for me to go there.

Hope is just so far away from me.