How Many Kids Could You Fight?

I don’t really have a critique about my generation, only that we’re the same as those before and those afterwards. Memories change and we choose only to see what we want to believe happened so all those old folks who complain about kids are just saying so because their hideous rose-tinted glasses don’t offer them a true view of their pasts.

Today’s a day to complain about all my gripes. I had a thoroughly terrifying dream last night. Not really a scary dream just an emotionally distressing one, I remember crying either in the dream or in real life. I think perhaps yesterday’s post and day in general was just an omen for the event but it was strange. I remember the general gist of the whole ordeal it’s not really something to get into but it’s just a problem that I didn’t think affected me as much as it seems to have.

The worrying thing about having this blog is I have an echo chamber in which to put out all my experiences and sometimes feelings. But being stuck in this room on my lonesome I can sometimes exaggerate experiences and other things, I distort what really happens, making my life seem more like a rollercoaster.

I’m 15, I should be walking through life in a stupid haze as I middle through my awkward years, self-reflection every day is excessive and it just gets boring. This is what I thought to myself on the bus today, then I realised I probably shouldn’t do that, having been granted sacred knowledge it would be a sin not to act on it. So my resolution today is to get back on it, make the most of what I have been given and keep putting out patronising messages on the internet.


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