Black Blood of the Earth

“Man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs. If there was no suffering, man would not know his limits, would not know himself. ” 
- Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

We really are hideous creatures, the scum of the world we live in. 
If we think we're above any other organism, or even the dirt beneath our feet, we are sorely mistaken. We live such peculiar lives now, dancing around the faux feelings of one another in such a way that there is now an etiquette for cruelty and malice. Such disgusting qualities are now readily accepted and encouraged in our society, to the point where it is nigh impossible to find truly good and selfless people. Those that do manage to embody some sort of goodness are crushed, destroyed, ended by those who have no tenderness within them.
I used to be one of those people. But as I grow older I feel withered, eroded away. In light of recent events, I'm not sure if I can say I embody such a kindness anymore. I am now dead, empty. A cold blooded by-product of the environment I live in, and I am ashamed to still be alive.