Perhaps we look to the distant skies, so that we may always strive to reach them. ~Something I once said to a friend, when he asked why we so desperately struggle against the depressing, albeit atypical nature of mankind to refuse death until all hope has fled us, and even then we still struggle.

Why do we fight? Why do we push forward when hope is all but gone? It's simple. We don't want to die. We don't want to settle with less than we know we are capable of having. So we push forward. The odds are overwhelming. We soldier on, as those around us fall or propel further towards the same ultimate goal. What divides us, what seperates us, isn't the color of our skin, or our origins, but rather what means we utilize to reach that end. Are we kind? Are we killer? In the end, it doesn't matter. Death comes neigh. Just enjoy the ride and forget about being better, for the sake of bettering someone else. Just better yourself for yourself.