what is it about light that attracts insects like homing missiles? that golden bee outside my glass sliding door has been at it for hours.

conversely, what is it about humans that we persist so in sitting in our dark hovels? it is as if you see a pinprick of light then begin to imagine that you are imagining it. soon you begin to believe that you have imagined that pinprick into existence when it is still there, and has been there all along.