These are the only options?

As the presidential election looms over my head, I’m left wondering. Is there really a correct decision?

On the day I turned 18, I woke up and chose to immediately register to vote. I was so excited to finally be able to exercise the right that women fought so hard for. Now, I’m just mildly disappointed and highly disgruntled. Welcome to adulthood, I guess.

As a 19-year-old about to vote in my very first presidential election, it has clicked. There’s never a good option.

You’re supposed to pick the lesser of two evils. But really, which one is the lesser? It’s hard to tell, but I’m not here to weigh pros and cons. I am the future of America. I am the next generation. I can make change. That’s what I keep getting told, but I can only work with what I’m given. And given the options, I’m terrified.

If you had to choose between a rotten apple and a rotten piece of steak, which would you rather eat? Neither, right? Well, neither isn’t an option, you have to pick one. But, what about this moldy piece of bread? You could probably eat around the mold, but you might still get sick. See? No good options.

How is a 19-year-old supposed to be expected to make a decision in the best interest of her country when she can’t guarantee that she won’t make the wrong decision? Sure, I could just not vote, but then what? Now I’ve done nothing. But really, is voting doing something when there is no good option?

Now, instead of the two same old guys from the 2020 election, it’s one of the old guys and a chick. What is this, the 2016 election?

Also, I feel like she’s kinda overhyped. Her marketing team is too focused on making her appeal to my generation without ever actually making any political statements about what I should care about. Do you think she fell out of a coconut tree? I don’t know at this point, maybe she did. Brat? What? Girlboss, or whatever. Tell me my rights!

But then again, there’s that looming guy. Him. Large orange man. Scary old. The guy that said she ‘just turned black.’ Make it make sense. I don’t know, nothing he says makes sense anymore. But does it? Philosophical. The sniper incident? To be or not to be, that is the question.

In the end, will it really matter? That’s what I’m left asking myself. The world keeps turning no matter what self-dignified dollop is sitting in office, and I’m still here.