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Hope It’s hopeless: the end of an era, they say, (65 million years more or less) and beyond our control. Its better this way. There’s comfort in hopelessness. Down in some valley, surrounded by the shadows of death— so close, there’s no escape, so hopeless, you find yourself beyond fear. You let go… surrender… expecting death. But, by stepping close, and embracing it, it’s long reach is negated,…