Whatever Poem by Rachel Brewer

This life isn’t fair. Why would anyone want to be born into such a self-destructive state of being? You may think you’re looking forward to falling in love and getting married, but you never think about the heart break. What will happen when everything goes rubbish and nobody cares? So what if you have a high paying job, nine to five of boredom and self loathing is all that awaits you. Lifeless hours of you regretting all the choices and all the wrong turns you took. But it’s all the same to some people I guess. Sitting in front of the T.V, drinking their lives away. How messed up is that? Why were you born if you’re planning on drinking yourself to death? So not being born would have been a good thing for lots of people in this world. Dictators and psychopaths, why the hell were they born? To make the rest of us terrified, that’s why. Every day life is simply us waiting. Waiting for one of our fears to come true. To inevitably destroy us. Even crossing the road is a fearful task. Will some drunk driver speed around the bend and knock me down? Will someone in a hurry run a red light and change my life forever? We cant even be truly safe in our own homes. Some kid with a gun, or a homeless man full of anger, could break in, realise you’re there and end you. They probably didn’t intend to, no, just the sheer panic of saving themselves is enough to pull the trigger or flip a blade. So we are kept in a constant state of fear. Fear of losing ourselves in all the madness. Fear of losing our grip on reality, when reality is so messed up as it is. Sometimes we need to lose it. Just scream and scream until we feel free. Lose our minds to stay sane. Tell me I’m not crazy, but I don’t even care if I am at this point. Believe me, it would be a nice change of pace in my mediocre life. Boredom and restlessness, a completely repetitive ordeal that doesn’t deviate from one day to the next. And then, guess what, the next week the whole bloody thing starts over again, whether I want it to or not.