Night after night it’s possible to see, indeed it’s impossible not to see. These faces, from which hope and joy and dignity and light have been draining so steadily, and for so long… that now there is nothing left but this assortment of indifferent, damaged, masks. They belong to human beings whom after a lifetime of struggling to become on thing or another, have succeeded only in becoming the rough sketches of their species. Recognizable but empty. The bruised and wretched bodies and souls of the saddest people on earth: the people who no longer care.
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