Every weekend, something in us bursts open, releasing all the pent-up pressure that sought to make us dead inside. Our coworkers suddenly come alive. ‘See you on Monday,’ they utter, as they dash from the confines of the cubicles to catch the next taxi.

Rushing from work and school, we celebrate the coming of the weekend as if we’re finally being released out of prison. Which beckons the question – those of us working – are our lives in perpetual bondage? Is the weekend our only method of escape?

As youth, we’re often paralyzed by the anxiety of existence, and of having to grow – all linked to happiness, money and time. In consequence, creating a hollow sphere in our hearts; eating at us with each passing day of the week, we sit abjectly at our desks – at home, at work, at varsity. But most of us have not a clue what we want out of life, and racing at the back of our minds, is the thought that a least we have time. But with each turn of a year, we still don’t know what we want or dream for. Our happiness is compromised. Thus we find solace in living for the weekend.

Unemployment, unhealthy places of employment- all play a role to make us as youth so unhappy. When the weekend comes we become the most alive. We drink until our livers mutter, ‘what’s going on’, we take up different sex partners until our genitals scream, ‘who’s this now’, we snort and shoot up different illicit substances down our blood stream until the brain stutters, ‘who am I’. Every weekend, we risk our health just to feel alive.

I remember in my second year of varsity how every weekend, me and my friends went clubbing. I’m still in my early 20’s; admittedly I still enjoy going out, though not as self-destructively as before. (I had mental health issues, but I would find an excuse not to attend to them.)

I would meet regulars at these clubs – elated to see me; they would extend the overture of buying me a drink. And then they would start passionately blabbering about the businesses they want to start, and I would nod with a gleam, simultaneously stealing a look from the corner of my eye at a gorgeous lady. It was clear that they thought they were not cut out for varsity. And it was clear as day that all of us were there as an escape from the grip of academic stress.

Living for the debauchery of the weekend breeds degeneracy. It leads to a youth hooked on drugs and other substances, a youth too complacent to spear-head the future of the nation, a youth infested with diseases – a youth with no direction.

We are still young and full of energy like new batteries full of alkaline juice. Some fun won’t hurt. Let us attend those events and those clubs, but let us not do it in excess. Let us also attend those career expos, quit those jobs that make us rue our week days and make our lives a living hell, and rather go out of our way to follow our passions. Most importantly, let us make each day of our lives worth-while, instead of having to wait for those two days at each and every week to come alive.

Tell us: do you only ‘live for the weekend’?