Vent Book

Coffee Shop Talks

Are you really living if each day you're just trying to get to a point where you can feel more than alright?

Not good, great, or fine, or fantastic. Just more than alright. Even if you tell yourself that the tiny voice in your mind isn't the voice of reason. What does that say about us? About me? How far have we fallen to where we need to hang on for dear life each day just to get to the weekend so we can drown our sorrows in someone else's whiskey.

I want to be fine again, I want to feel like there's nothing my heart can't accomplish. That childish sense of wonder when the world felt new, and there was excitement in waking up. Not in this dull world where our social media feeds and constant updates from snapchat remove us from the happiness of the moment. Why can't we be in wonder of butterflies anymore?

Now we only pay attention to how many have died on the news in some senseless act of violence. Or how nothing is innocent anymore because your mind has become just a cynical and warped place that all you do half the time, is tell dark and edgy jokes no one's found funny since 2006.

Yet you tell them all the same and everyone still laughs because if they don't you're all bound to cry with the absurdity of reality and the situation you were all born into.

A generation of whom half of you are too apathetic to care, and the rest are so divide by class, race, and government that you can't even identify much less recognize the people you're supposed to be facing the future with in solidarity.

The very same people who of all the generations in human history, show the highest signs for depression, anxiety and suicide. Where people actively check seats in the classroom to see if someone else will be missing this semester.

What did we break in our quest for the future? What did our parents not tell us about life that has resulted in a generation almost as broken as the world it was handed.