Perspective

Today was kinda meh.
As I watched the sun creep down, shots of pain ran down the left and right sides of my body. I looked at the sunset.
If the darkness represents despair, and the few light there is left represents hope, then there is still hope and everything can go well. The problem is, the thing that gives the sunset a dirty, orange glow is the pollution. Humans decided to destroy the nice environment with their technological production, but that seems to be the only hope. Bleh, that's sad.
I mean, if you thought that the future was going to based off of deconstructive human development to make themselves look fancier and richer to show off to their friends, or that humans were dependent on polluting technology that tarnishes the only hope you could ever have, would you be happy?

This was during a football game. One player became injured, so we stood there respectfully. Some guy was messing around, so someone screamed at him, "What if he were dead. Would you be messing around?".
What if he were dead.

Everyone is born, so the sun comes up. The sun lives its daily routine and eventually needs to go down.
No matter what the sun will still go down, no matter how much we try to contain it. Using chemicals in the air to lengthen the effect by amplifying the light rays, flying across the world to see the sun again, or even climbing up a hill to get a better view. But the sun always goes down. And the more we try to save it, the less we can do to keep it alive when it wants to go down.

I'm thinking into this too much. I mean, it's only a sunset.
I think I'm depressed. Eating ice cream when we have some, writing about bad things (the beginning of the poem earlier) and this. This connection to death from a natural, everyday, glorious occurrence that many people love.
And it's probably a horrible connection, but meh. I thought of this while holding cymbals in my hands with a crowd screaming all around me.