Dear World/Humanity

Dear World
 
You may know me already, you may not; I don’t know how much
attention you pay to us humans. In case you don’t know me, allow me to
introduce myself.
 
I’m Rachel. I was born nineteen years ago to parents that I
thought were loving but were anything but. I’ve lived a life full of confusion
and hardship, and I’m still half-stuck in my own fantasy realm as a result. I
don’t blame you for any of this; we are, after all, by far your worst piece of
evolution. True, we had so much potential when we first climbed down from the
trees, but my brother had so much potential and look where that’s gotten him.
 
I don’t blame you for anything; I don’t blame you for the
rise of humanity, I don’t blame you for getting angry and destroying thousands of
lives in the process, I don’t blame you one bit. You are, after all, our
Mother, and a true mother finds it difficult to give up on her children.
 
We all gave up on each other centuries ago. World peace is
not attainable until every last human is dead. You know that, I know that, we
all know that; yet we continue to survive against our wills, and you continue
to support us though you grow weak.
 
Mourn me when I’m gone, Mother; I’m mourning you ahead of
time, because you will outlive all your children.
 
 
 
 
Dear Humanity
 
You ought to be ashamed of yourself, exploiting your own
mother that way. How can you sleep at night, knowing that your every move, your
every breath only hastens her towards the grave? Don’t you understand, there is
no grand inheritance with her death; only oblivion, and all it contains.
 
We’ve come so far since those first tentative steps on two
legs; what went wrong? Such a shame, I think; we’ve always been selfish,
nurturing our survival instinct until it took precedent over our own Mother’s
life.
 
Well, humanity, fuck you. I’m ashamed to be a part of you,
and I’m disgusted to know that I’m just like you. At least when I die, I’ll die
with the knowledge that I can do no more damage.