I am not a fish but I swim with the current, I tear through and I'm a word for hurried

A bear or a cockroach We are all but the same Yet we use it for insults For beasts yet untamed If I call you by this It feels rude and uncouth But we cannot change nature What we are is the truth

I have no start, no end in sight, A perfect loop, a flawless light. No corners sharp, no edges bare, What am I, beyond compare?

I am born of sand, yet clear as air, I seem to vanish, though I’m still there. I bend the light, or let it pass, and break too quickly with a careless grasp.

I am the sound you hear when something moves quickly through the air past your ear. A basketball swishing through the net makes me. A fast car zooming by creates me. I am a quick rushing noise. What am I?