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This Can Not Be

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Life passes by in endless monotony. Grey days upon greyer skies upon grey people moving through a grey world. How my soul would rejoice for something black and white! Each day wears on my mind like a file against wood, day by day, bit by bit, piece by terrible piece, pulling at the variety of memory and replacing it with the prosaic monstrosity that is life. A new sunrise ceases to bring anything unfamiliar except the layers of the colors. The school-day is the school-day, ever unchanging, ever same. Stuck in a brick box while uncaring adults shove unnecessary lessons down our throats. Time ticks by, not stopping to glance at it’s unrecognized prisoners, flying away more quickly than any of us know. It is this monotony that makes me stop and question this life, this universe, makes me stop and wonder, “Is this truly all there is?”. This second, this moment, this is life. This cup of redundancy, this endless grey field, this is life. I cannot escape it, no matter how I try. I must push onward, through this unending mass of nothingness. I must fight with what I have, because this, this life, this world, this nothingness, this can not be life. So I will fight the monotony, I will fight the endless days, the meaningless sunrise. I will fight because I must. Because I have to. Because this… this cannot be life.



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