- Michael Forbes
- Quezon City
Why do we hope? What is that mechanism inside us that wishes for the best even though the odds are clearly stacked against us?
In Dylan Thomas's poem, Do not go gentle into that good night, one of the main themes is that it is "normal" for us to fight against our death, although it is imminent. I'm wondering why. Why? why do we helplessly try to maintain our grasp on these things that are, clearly, already slipping through our fingers? Why do we feel the need to fight the losing battle?
Why do people hope?