Hope kept me alive from "summary" of Autobiografía de un esclavo by Juan Francisco Manzano
Hope, that ethereal and intangible feeling, was the only thing that sustained me in the darkest moments of my existence. In the depths of despair and suffering, when all seemed lost and the weight of oppression threatened to crush my spirit, hope was a flickering flame that refused to be extinguished. It whispered to me in the dead of night, promising a better tomorrow, a future where freedom and dignity were not just distant dreams but tangible realities. I clung to hope like a drowning man to a life raft, holding on with all my might even when the waves of adversity threatened to pull me under. It was the light that guided me through the labyrinth of despair, illuminating a path towards liberation that seemed impossible to reach. In the face of unspeakable cruelty and dehumanization, hope was my shield and my sword, empowering me to endure the unendurable and defy the undefiable. When the chains of slavery bound my body and shackled my soul, hope was the key that unlocked the door to my innermost being, freeing me from the confines of my physical existence. It gave me the strength to rise above my circumstances and transcend the limitations imposed upon me by a society that sought to dehumanize and degrade me. With hope as my constant companion, I found the courage to confront my oppressors and challenge the unjust systems that sought to keep me in bondage. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against me, hope never wavered in its steadfast belief in the possibility of a new dawn. It sustained me through the long and arduous journey towards freedom, infusing my spirit with a sense of purpose and determination that carried me through the darkest nights and the bleakest days. Hope was not just a fleeting emotion, but a powerful force that propelled me forward, driving me towards a future where the chains of slavery were nothing but a distant memory.
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