Hope, and hopelessness, persist despite the facts.
Aimless drifting also fulfills an intention.
The horse stares at its captor, barely remembering the free kicks of youth.
My mother's mild-eyed sadness looks at me from the eyes of those I love.
Amazing that the human race has taken enough time out from thinking about food or sex to create the arts and sciences.
Even alone we go on justifying ourselves.