Lost in Translation: A Generation
I’m reckless. Recklessly unapologetic for what I’m about to say. Recklessly unapologetic for being who I truly am. I have a bold sense of fashion…that doesn’t make sense to you. I love hip-hop and R&B music that simply is too loud for you. I paint pretty aesthetics of Revolution all over my Instagram…but my selfies are too selfish for you. I share my flaws. But you are too busy hiding your vanities to see that. I run away from responsibilities, I give up rather than grow up. My dreams are just fantasies- I don’t see reality for what it is, do I? You say I was fed with a silver spoon on a silver platter and that I take my entitlement for granted. Don’t you remember bottle-feeding me expectations and ideals I could not meet? I mean- of course, I am encouraged to be myself…if that’s what the world needs. And yes I am encouraged to be empathetic…but only when the world bleeds. You call us the lost generation. And I am struck with the para...