Friday, January 11, 2019


Ultimately, nothing productive comes of futility. Nothing. Remorse seems to be all it brings.

Every time you try, it seems you're just tilting at windmills. Quixotic and ineffectual, you keep on jousting at non-existent giants, trying to save someone who barely knows of your existence. Useless effort seems to have no end.

It will end, though, with the end of the poor, pitiful hero. There seems to be no other way to complete the story. Except that there is. Divine it.