Blue BIC pen

I think this generation doesn't get enough credit. We are too obese. Too spoiled. We've lived in relative ease. We are too depressed. Too lazy. Too sick. I believe that's what makes us so special. There is a beauty that radiates from the sickest. I would even argue that it transcends the beauty of the healthy. From sickness springs the fullest of passions. A raw, animalistic, emotional beauty. I suppose that is why I am so appreciative of the emo/indie/screamo/acoustic/alternative. The anger, the hurt, the depression, the emotion, the lyrics are real. They aren't woven up in some self righteous meaning. They aren't watered down. They are honest. They are bad teenage poetry put to music. It's beautiful to me.

I consider myself lucky to be able to partake of such cheesy emotional. It defines a generation of young people who aren't happy and that's ok. We fall in and out of love like passing seasons. We backstab. We cheat. We are angry and not sure why. We scream to melodies. We cry in rythem. We hold close to lyrics. Everyone is a musician. Everyone contributes. Everyone is a poet. Everyone bleeds.

"I said I'd never let you go and I never did! I said I'd never let you fall and I always meant it! If you didn't have a chance than I never did! You'll always find me right there again! Have faith in me...."

I don't feel ok. I know why. I am having the hardest time figuring out how to fix it or even if I want to fix it. Everyone around me is moving forward and I'm slowly moving backwards. I feel like I'm losing grip on everything that has got me to where I am now. Is it for the better?

I feel like this is a prelude to a lifetime of regret.....

Maybe I'm a blue BIC pen that's ink has run out....