People often think hope works the same for everyone.
But it doesn’t.
There’s a clear difference between a person who lost hope and a person who never hoped at all.
When someone loses hope
A person who loses hope is not empty.
They once looked forward to something.
They once believed in a better moment.
They know how hope feels because they lived it before.
That memory stays.
It becomes a small spark inside, even if life feels heavy.
It can come back with patience, rest, and the right time.
When someone never hoped
This is a different story.
Some people grow up with comfort, stability, or a life that never pushed them to reach for anything bigger.
They did not learn how to wait for something.
They did not learn how to want something deeply.
Their life is not meaningless, but it can feel flat.
So when life finally shakes them, they struggle more.
They don’t have a “hope reflex.”
They don’t know what to hold on to because they never had to hold on before.
Hope is not magic.
It is a skill built through real experience.
• If you lost hope, you can still find your way back because you know what hope feels like.
• If you never hoped, you can still learn—but you start from zero.
Both paths are human.
Both can move forward.
Hope does not disappear.
It waits for the moment when someone chooses to reach again—
and maybe even chooses to Hold.
The story doesn’t end here. Hold is just one voice in a larger echo. The rest of the album, Indelible Imprint of Reverberation, carries the same journey—tracks that fade, linger, rise, and wait. Soon on Bandcamp.
⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ
