Having no reason at all. Being inspired. Being in love. Falling over. Splashing in puddles. Exploring. Being naked. Creating. Learning. Mischief making.
When I see you all stacked up in those trucks and know that you're going to slaughter, I like to tell myself that you are all murderers and rapists that were reincarnated as sheep. Somehow that justifies the cruelty. But nothing ever could really.
