Sometimes I have a bad case of it. It comes and goes. It feels like we are nothing but self-satisfied virus on this planet, carrying on our extremely petty fights and desires. We are worse than a virus, for we are capable of being cruel to each other.
Bukowski said this, and he celebrated life in spite of this. Seems inconsistent:
“We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”
This planet has had five major mass extinctions (Ordovician–Silurian Extinction, Late Devonian Extinction, Permian–Triassic extinction, Triassic–Jurassic extinction, and Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction). I tend to think that we may be on the verge of another mass extinction, this one caused by humans. However, if we take the view that the distinction between "man made" and "natural" is an illusion, and that everything is natural in fact, the devastation we are causing on the planet is actually a natural result of the evolution of an intelligent species. In which case, life will continue on this planet (with or without intelligent life). Earth will recover.
This is admittedly a heartless viewpoint.