I used to believe in nothing.
That life was a cruel joke, the universe a silent void.
Meaningless days, faceless nights.
Just motion. Just survival.
But something changed.
Not all at once—more like a crack in the wall.
A quiet laugh. A hand held a little longer.
A moment that didn’t ask for meaning, yet gave it anyway.
And I remembered that line from Rust Cohle:
“Once there was only dark. If you ask me, the light’s winnin’.”
Maybe it’s not about blind faith.
Maybe it’s about choosing to see the flicker
and letting it grow.
From a nihilist’s bones,
hope began to hum.
Not loud.
Just enough.