maybe live long or maybe die young, or maybe live every day like it's your last day under the sun

I think the darkness triggers things in people. You become different, perhaps more open. Maybe it's because the world is asleep, and therefore it's not really life. It's like whatever you say or do during the night is erased in the morning. It isn't really, but it feels like it. The darkness brings me thoughts. Thoughts that I usually run away from during the daylight. Extensional thoughts that scares the shit out of me. Not the meaning of life and similar questions. But about subjects like people that doesn't really feel like they are alive, but just exists. How human race feel superior to any living species. How we manage to destroy anything we touch. Isn't it funny? How we try to find a cure to so many diseases? Diseases that destroy people. Who is going to find a cure against human race? Yeah-- this is why I don't like the darkness sometimes. Because this could easily have been the mindset of a mass murderer. The difference is that I believe in goodness-- that I have faith in people and human race. And that I don't believe humans intend to destroy. We're just too stupid. Uneducated. It's weird that we spend so much time studying, and yet we cannot learn to appreciate the nature and life in general. If I were to show you a blank paper right now-- imagine it. Imagine I'm sitting beside you wherever you are, and I show you a blank paper. And I ask you: what do you see? What would you answer? Think about it. I should go to sleep, forget about this. Except this piece of writing on the gigantic inter-web will be a reminder in the morning. These thoughts will not be erased. It's funny, because would you think that a person that loves One Direction so dearly would walk around with these kinds of thoughts in their heads? That's how I remind myself that I cannot judge people with a little piece of information. Have you thought about the blank paper now? Did you think nothing? Or did you think "a blank paper"? Or hey, maybe you came to the conclusion "a dead tree". There's no correct answer here, don't fret. I must go now, but I'll leave you with this fantastic poem I read not long ago (source here).

isn’t it ironic
how we kill
flowers
because we
think that
they are
beautiful