Millennial War Cry

Let’s talk about Earth, and a generation built for self-destruction.

Kids grow up on speed prescribed by their governments, all socializing is over the internet, and the news praises tyrants (though that’s nothing new).

Society precariously balances on a web of mass-delusions.

Bought and ruled by money, we cower silently in fear and count the comforts of our conformity.

Knowing we will lose them to eventuality.

The world’s coming apart, and it’s old fashioned to know how to build anything.

I don’t know everything, but someone must say it: “This isn’t a society worth adjusting to, this isn’t sincerity or something we should cater to.  We are what we do, and we’ve done little except consume.”

We don’t know what we are or what we’re meant to be.  Millennials, a generation of souls lost to technology.  Lost to denial, indifference, and luxury.

Our denial won’t live much longer.  Our choice is Arab Spring of the mind, or 1980.

Yet indifference is our propriety.

We are the generation of dissociation.

Every Millennial I know who has experienced “intimacy” has PTSD

because of how little we were taught about consent, except how much it’s mocked on TV.

We can’t fix blind, but disabled is not broken.  It just needs to be spoken.

(But why speak when no one will listen?)

It’s time to unleash from our prison.

Unleash the unloved, unkempt, unheeded.  Now is the time we’re most needed.

So I will speak, and you will hate me for it, but you too will live a moment and know what it’s like to be abhorred for it, for your words and deeds and dreams and beliefs.

Belief is relative to the time you give to it, and the things you see.  Some laws you can’t escape, but the rest you create.

It’s time.

Your choice:

Unbind

From millennia of lies and become.

Do,

Or die having never done.

Writing Prompt: Love at First Smell

TC180’s random writing prompts.

Love at first smell.

150 word max. Poems, fiction, or non-fiction.

 

If at least 10 people participate, the chosen winner gets a colorful Jpeg award image to put on their social media or blog.  It will likely be cheesy.

Leave your entry in the comments or leave a link to it.

Press on

Press out

down about the dust

make the path

 

Thorns snag

burrs hitchhike

trying to find the sun.

 

I’ve only ever run.

Now a patch of ground

calls.

 

It holds a lake

where I can see my heart glow

in its reflection.

 

Before, I’ve seen only clouds,

lightning

 

I’ve seen only

a murky surface

oiled slick and swirling

 

How am I to believe in this glow?

A whole universe, waiting to grow.

 

.

 

 

 

Count Down

How many made it this time around,

how many faces with you

versus those you search for in the rain.

 

Let the ball drop

Fluctuations of millions beginning,

ending

stories spilling open

 

In explosions

fires

disease

and we’re left counting names

faces in the room with us

to see who’s going round again.