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 paradoxical thoughts of how this might be a possibility if we are so busy finding ourselves?

But maybe, just maybe, we are lost.

Because we are constantly losing the fight with you.

We are constantly losing battles against our demons, battles against ourselves, battles that you refuse to acknowledge.

“Goddamned generation is ruining this country.”

You say these words with such ease, don’t you?

With clenched fists and the same prejudice that broke you.

But you don’t see what’s your own doing.

If anything, our generation carries the weight of the world and bears it as if they were wings.

If anything, the previous generations did not understand emotion.

How could you, if you did not learn how to spell communication?

If anything, our generation is bringing light in and though we refuse to be greater than or beneath you, but we know that our words are the greatest (and bravest) ever spoken.

We are dreamers.

Dreamers crazy enough to know what they want, when they want it and how to work towards getting it.

Dreamers crazy enough to believe in the existence of freedom.

Of unity.

Of acceptance.

Of love.

Of understanding.

Of humanity.

Oh, the perils of belonging to this generation.

Youth and spontaneity came with a price we do not deserve to pay. 

A love we should not have to sacrifice.

And we wont.

You see- our generation loves humanity.

We care more about people than power. 

How dare we be punished for it?

Unashamed.

I am a generation that is unashamed.

For loving who I want to love, for hoping against all hope,

For breaking beyond repair yet picking myself up piece by piece while you ignore reality.

I am a generation that is unashamed.

For seeing human beings as they really are…as human beings.

For seeing humanity as it really is…as art.

And to all my fellow human beings- I am sorry your fate was decades late.

I am sorry for all the undeserved hate.

For a generation that prides themselves on being ideal,

On being right, on being perfectly placed and system-atic,

There is something you lack.

You don’t have a heart.

And if that is what it means to be ideal and perfect and what society wants us to be, then I’m sorry that’s not a life for us.

That’s not a life for me.

It’s not a life at all.

I am not the problem.

I am the brave, poignant and true solution.

I am not the mess.

I am the revolution.

If only I did not need a revolution to be human.

I am not just Generation Y.

I am Generation Why Not?

I am the future. I’ve seen it.

And in it, I am alive.