I’m generally one who believes in the inherent goodness of mankind. Really. Maybe I’m just naive or misguided or, hell, maybe I’m right, but I usually believe people are, once you get down to it, pretty darn good.
And then humanity has to go and shatter my little pipe dream.
We got suicide bombers, we got men kidnapping, raping and killing five year old girls, we have grown men throwing kittens on a grill, we have people really really really pissing me off at the overall stupidity and cruelity to life and morals.
Why do people feel the need to be so evil? Why do people feel the need to do such horrible acts when it’s so easy to be good, to simply live life as a good thing and treat others with kindness and respect, the same way you’d want them to treat you.
And all of this starts to bum me out. People being bad. People I know, people I don’t know, all of it gets to me. It’s just one of those things I’ve dealt with my whole life, I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders and I feel like I can fix everything if only given the chance. It’s part of what makes me want to get into politics, it’s part of what makes me mediate every damn tiff my family might have, it’s part of what makes me get up in the morning when I really would just like to roll over and sleep in, it’s part of what makes me keep going when the world tries to tell me it’s not worth it, it’s useless, there’s nothing I can do, I’m only one tiny man with so many huge dreams.
Have you ever cried over the world’s suffering?
(I just posted this over at complex postcards and thought, hell, why not post it here as well. Generally I will not double post like this, but something makes me want to do it now.)