24.06.04 - 4:21 PM
You know what it is, don't you?
Monotonous. Mono, tone, us. We all sound the same. Making the same goddamn laments about broken hearts and broken skin, fucking drugs and fixes. Yeah, that's great, shove this shit in your veins and break your underage, barely developed bodies. Bury yourselves in sex, drugs, and desperation.
This generation has regressed into a melting pot of dirty needles and underage fucking. "Young love" and forever. What the fuck is that.
I'll tell you what it is. Society is running rampant and you're trailing behind, littler sister to Mustang fucking Sally, trying to catch up, speed up and surpass. Are you a visionary? Are you going to change the world? Are you a revolution?
You are a faceless mess of chains and mock-rebellion in a crowd of angst and middle-class Suburbans. Don't think you are original, don't think you are unique, don't think you are a butterfly in a swarm of moths around a lightbulb. You are a product, manufactured and expelled from society's collective rectum. You are leftovers, everything that has ever been said, but not digested.
Well, digest this. If you're going to parade around in an air of self-righteousness, make something of yourself and prove yourself before you think you are something. Right now, you are nothing. You are indigestion. You are compost. You are a teenager with small tits and tiny hips hunched over a keyboard, preaching shit you don't understand in a spell of poor grammar and excess punctuation.
You can walk with an arrogant swagger when you change the fucking world, you jerks.
