Are We All Gambling On Another Day?

I’m not sure if you know of Charles Bukowski but after reading his poem Gamblers All it got me thinking about things in life -especially my life. Here’s a copy of it below:

Image result for gamblers cartoons

Gamblers All – Poem by Charles Bukowski

sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think,
I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside
remembering all the times you’ve felt that way, and
you walk to the bathroom, do your toilet, see that face
in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my, but you comb your hair anyway,
get into your street clothes, feed the cats, fetch the
newspaper of horror, place it on the coffee table, kiss your
wife goodbye, and then you are backing the car out into life itself,
like millions of others you enter the arena once more.

you are on the freeway threading through traffic now,
moving both towards something and towards nothing at all as you punch
the radio on and get Mozart, which is something, and you will somehow
get through the slow days and the busy days and the dull
days and the hateful days and the rare days, all both so delightful
and so disappointing because
we are all so alike and so different.

you find the turn-off, drive through the most dangerous
part of town, feel momentarily wonderful as Mozart works
his way into your brain and slides down along your bones and
out through your shoes.

it’s been a tough fight worth fighting
as we all drive along
betting on another day.

Charles Bukowski
 This poem really struck a chord in me not only for its stark reality and pragmatic philosophy about modern contemporary suburban lifestyle but also because  it changed my attitude towards my approach in living and experiencing my days. I try and keep this alive in me.
In more ways than one we are all gambling on getting through another day and if we put this in perspective then all of our worries, concerns, anxieties evaporate into a meaningless corner of social priorities based on illusions of importance.
The idea that each day could be our last is a celebration of fortune. I mean this in both the obvious  sense of fortunate to be alive and the metaphoric sense of surviving the elements of nature.
No one escapes the trials and tribulations of day to day living but to see it expressed in such simplicity and with such fresh perspective lightens the load. The stress and the discomfort become a shared and collective experience which triggers a genuine drive to see life from the vantage point of a risk taker who is forced to sucuumb to the pressures but also realise that luck plays a huge role in the fact that we are alive and empowered to think, interact, experience, observe and participate.
The poem injects an appreciation and a celebration of the life I have and having said this I am reminded of one of Einstein’s famous quotes , ” God doesn’t play dice with the  Universe !” and my response to that is ” What’s God got to do with it?”
 How do you see this poem?
Any comments, suggestions, directions, ideas, criticisms, overhauls, rejections are more than welcome……..
We are all visitors to this place and travellers through space so bouncing off one another can only improve or disprove my emotional reactions…and I really want to know what it is that I am trying to visualise and communicate with help from my comrades in life…