F**k It All

“Got my mind in the palm of my hand. Don’t wanna lose it.Got my heart on the edge of my seat. Don’t wanna break it…Fuck it all.” – Elle Varner

Life has been life-ing in the worst way lately. Just when I think I can finally coast, something comes out of nowhere, knocks me off balance, and suddenly everything goes left.

I know people say not to complain, but let’s be real: this rollercoaster isn’t easy. I’ve lost my only child—yet I still manage to smile, pray, and wake up every morning. If surviving that doesn’t prove strength, I don’t know what does.

But even so, some days I just want to scream: F**k it all.

I want to drain my savings, grab a last-minute ticket, and disappear to some beach where the water is crystal blue, the sun is endless, and the Shirley Temples never stop coming. No emails. No deadlines. No fake smiles. Just sand, waves, and silence.

F**k it all—I’ll deal with life when I deal with it.

And honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? Life gets messier? Spoiler: it usually does anyway.

The Break I Really Need

The truth is, I don’t just want a vacation. I need a real break—a full disconnect.

Year one after the loss was a blur. Year two was about picking up the shattered pieces, trying to remember what even happened in year one. Year three has been about rebuilding—rediscovering myself, learning how to prioritize, finding new ways to live.

But even rebuilding is exhausting. Add in everyday life, other people’s expectations, and their problems piled on top of mine, and sometimes all I want is to unplug.

Not forever. Just long enough to reconnect—with myself, with peace, with God.

Because here’s the truth: disconnecting isn’t giving up. Sometimes it’s the only way to return to yourself. To reflect. To release. To choose yourself unapologetically.

When Escape Feels Like Survival

Fighting life every single day drains you.

Today, I stalled. I ignored the texts. I let the calls go unanswered. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling until exhaustion pulled me into sleep.

And in my dreams, I escaped. I soared above the clouds, looking down at the world with no weight on my shoulders. No grief. No bills. No obligations. Just peace.

That dream reminded me of something I often forget: even when my heart feels torn, shattered, and strained—my mind and body still crave alignment. They still fight to give me glimpses of peace, however temporary.

So today? My heart says: Fuck it all. Not in defeat. Not in surrender.

But in freedom.

Tomorrow, I’ll show up again. But tonight? Tonight I’m letting go. Tonight, I’m pre-gaming for my comeback.