This announcement is very late, but (as most of you probably heard) on the 15th, which (for me) is four days ago, the world population passed the mark of 8 billion. That means it's quadrupled since 1922, a hundred years ago, when it was approximately 2 billion.
This may seem irrelevant, as it's just a number, but if you think about it, it's mind-boggling. There are more than 8 billion human beings residing on this planet. Every minute, almost 300 babies are born just as 100 people leave this planet and go no-one-knows-where.
On the one hand, this seems like a lot. But on the other hand, it also shows that there is a finite amount of people here. People we have to take care of. Every one person in this 8 billion deserves a decent shot at life. As we all know, far too few of them get one.
I feel like we are not aware of the people on this planet, because we struggle with even imagining how much 1000 people could be (I do, at least). But if we think about it, and I mean really THINK, there are more than 8 billion other human beings apart from ourselves on this planet who are all so very like us and unlike us at the same time. They bleed the same way as us, they sleep the same, they dream the same. And there are so so many of them. It makes us feel small. Sometimes it makes us feel alone, especially looking at the big picture of how none of them, including ourselves, will never understand us or truly know us for who we truly are. And when we look at the universe at a larger scale, we feel even smaller. But then, what are the odds of humanity existing? What are the odds of the human who is reading this (I sincerely hope you're human - how do non-humans learn to comprehend the English language. If you aren't human, please tell me) or the human who is writing this existing? Both at the same time? Both in so different places and minds and families? They are astronomical. And yet it happened. The universe has decided to curse us of all people with existence.