The world is mad...

2:30am. I'm *punchdrunk* on lack of sleep and can't seem to draw any conclusions from the thoughts flying through my brain but I keep thinking about London and the latest round of bombings on our planet.

• I have always been thankful that I grew up in the States ... for the opportunities and the education and such. But more and more often I'm consciously thankful that I don't live in a country where there is war on the streets everyday. Well. I know we have deadly gang activity on our streets but somehow that doesn't seem like war to me. Isn't that odd? And actually quite wrong of me too. It's just as deadly and traumatizing to a community of people.
• Also thinking about WWI and WWII and the perception that the battles in those wars were carried out with a sense of honor. Perhaps there is honor in what is going on today too. Perhaps it is just an honor and a style I can't comprehend with my background. To me it seems like a senseless random madness striking the hearts of our communities. For what gain?
• Is killing any more conscionable if carried out with a sense of morals and honor? Does that answer to that question matter?
• In some ways I wish I could understand how a person could find a good enough reason to destroy so many people and to cause such pain in those who survive. In other ways I just don't want to know. I don't want to know that I likely have the capacity to think or hate like that.
• Living in fear is a terrible thing.
• It crosses my mind that I would rather not be on a public transit system in Europe nowadays but I refuse to bow to the fear of dying before I'm ready to go. I will travel regardless of the insanity in the world.
• There has been a rash of crime along my street recently. I find myself afraid of the dark and of living alone. And I find myself judging people and cars based on stereotypes (young kids driving black SUVs with tinted windows must be into drugs) rather than on any real evidence of criminal activity. It irritates me that even for one moment my own fear takes me down a path of unfairly judging the book by its cover. I don't want to be that kind of person. I will fight this tendency of mine.

What a colossal waste killing is. Why do humans have to be so destructive? Is that just the balance of good and evil? To have love we must also accept hate? To have life we must have death? To build something newer and stronger we must rip out the old?

Is it the existence of the negative part of balance that disturbs me or is it just the hate, or even worse cold efficiency, with which these attacks were carried out? It makes me deeply sad and disappointed in people.