Aliens

This is one of the most overused topics ever. Like, this is in so many books, movies, shows, plays, etcetera.

Usually, either everyone dies and the world ends, or the protagonist miraculously saves the day and there’s destruction, but it doesn’t really matter because the main characters are all alright. Like, “oh boy the world very nearly ended and realistically there’d be a boatload of work to do, but this isn’t reality.”

I hate this idea. It’s overdone and really wasn’t the greatest in the first place. Like, people are bad enough. Let’s not borrow trouble in the form of angry aliens, okay?

Sometimes my mother and I joke that we’re secretly aliens, because she’s a weirdo and I’m her offspring (and protégé).

Really, it is entirely possible that aliens exist. In a giant-ass universe, with however many galaxies full of planets, it’s a bit improbable that our planet would be the only life-sustaining one. It’s just a bit doubtful that aliens would bother with us.

So this idea is both overused and irrelevant.