(no subject)
We are a generation torn. We know nothing of happiness, an emotional idea completely foreign to us. We know only that anything resembling this incomprehensible concept must first come from a bottle. Don't blame us. Don't look at us, shaking your heads, and think, "When we were younger, we only dabbled with marijuana and it wasn't dangerous. ... Kids these days..." Don't humor yourselves with such self-righteousness.
The truth is, we are where we are not because we choose to be. You think it feels good to stare at the shadows on the walls constantly hoping for something to make us happy? Something to put this idea into the realm of the imaginable?
We play video games, live on the internet, have social lives based entirely off of perceived relationships connected by zeros and ones because we live in an abysmal reality. We live in a time where our childhood ailments always had pills to cure them waiting readily in our daycare workers' hands. Our young tears dripped into jacketed files labeled "emotional problems." Peroxetine. Our coughs silenced under the pressure of suppressants bearing down on them. Dextromethorphan. There was a pill for everything bad.
There still is.
Yet, what we really seek is to overcome the numbness dictating every beat of our hearts. Something genuine and fulfilling. Something that ignites a primal recognition of Happy.
We look for it in a bottle because you taught us to.
We stand at a new juncture. Our grandparents valued work. You rebelled from that, favoring education. Our gateway of opportunity stands closed on those two fronts, having set us up to hate work (preferring to die rather than be caught being a "Whopper flopper"), and to use school (get an education and you'll be set). Now we stand looking down our noses at jobs that we are too educated to get and finding the shadows on the walls more promising than the job market you've left for us.
We want to hurt so much we crumble just so we'll have pieces to pick back up. But, instead, the pain echoes inside the dark crevasses of our souls. And we stare at the shadows.
The truth is, we are where we are not because we choose to be. You think it feels good to stare at the shadows on the walls constantly hoping for something to make us happy? Something to put this idea into the realm of the imaginable?
We play video games, live on the internet, have social lives based entirely off of perceived relationships connected by zeros and ones because we live in an abysmal reality. We live in a time where our childhood ailments always had pills to cure them waiting readily in our daycare workers' hands. Our young tears dripped into jacketed files labeled "emotional problems." Peroxetine. Our coughs silenced under the pressure of suppressants bearing down on them. Dextromethorphan. There was a pill for everything bad.
There still is.
Yet, what we really seek is to overcome the numbness dictating every beat of our hearts. Something genuine and fulfilling. Something that ignites a primal recognition of Happy.
We look for it in a bottle because you taught us to.
We stand at a new juncture. Our grandparents valued work. You rebelled from that, favoring education. Our gateway of opportunity stands closed on those two fronts, having set us up to hate work (preferring to die rather than be caught being a "Whopper flopper"), and to use school (get an education and you'll be set). Now we stand looking down our noses at jobs that we are too educated to get and finding the shadows on the walls more promising than the job market you've left for us.
We want to hurt so much we crumble just so we'll have pieces to pick back up. But, instead, the pain echoes inside the dark crevasses of our souls. And we stare at the shadows.