Some ideas are best left unthought

I was born in a pole and dagga rotunda one rainy night. My grandmother should have been the midwife. I can't specifically remember being born, not that it matters. There were no wise men from anywhere, let alone a star to guide them. But, here I am wondering about who I am  and who we are and why we do the things we do ... to ourselves, to others, to the unborn. I am saddened by so many things in life, from Zimbabwe's own crisis to the carnage in Mumbai. Both man made disasters. Will we ever wake up one morning and find ourselves at peace, find ourselves tolerant of other people's views and filled with compassion for the welfare of others? I doubt it, all I can do is hope