|The Lost Generation
||[Jun. 11th, 2013|02:59 pm]
(PREVIOUSLY ON X-MEN:)|
Over the span of so many years, way before I was even born, there were generations. There was the Beat Generation, The Baby Boomer Generation, The Yippie Generation, the Hippie Generation, the Party Generation, the Doom Generation, the Generation X, and generating a generation the next on and so forth.
So now it's my generation, but other generations are being spawned already after us. And it's not necessarily "my" generation, but it's our generation. The Lost Generation. A generation of people that had it all figured it out. We were going to get apartments and live with roommates where it would be like an episode of "Friends". Going through one quirky scenario after another, dealing with our significant others. Plotting the weekend after the daily grind. These were the machinations that we strive for. Only after all was said and done, we were forced to walk away empty handed. Destined to return back to our parents' and in debt, scorned my not only our social gatherings, but the media as well.
(^This post may have been April or May - Now Speed up To Today [6/11/13])
There really is very little to complain about right now. Probation... done. New job... done (yet progressively at a halt?). Back to the ol' swing o' things. All I have left to strive for is a house/apartment. Rumpl and me are are looking into it, so we'll see what happens.
I just really am in content, I guess. For the first time in a long time. Don't get me wrong, I have made changes to my life, but everything seems so lax... as if there is no urgency, but still priority. It makes no sense in any way I put it, but it does to me. Now, I'm just sitting at my desk (btw, Rumpl left his 47" HDTV here, I feel like I'm in the Batcave) typing away with no worry except the present, which I shall dub once again without a sense of immediate rectification. Except my fucking phone's been blowing up ever since I got up. WTF... Christian, LEAVE ME ALONE! Kids these days... smh
I'm still trying to figure out what exactly I was saying up there earlier. If felt like... fuck... that phone... right... where was I? Yes, I think the reason why I must've wanted to write so much was because I needed to. You see, sometimes I feel an absolute NEED to write a diatribe of nonsense (in other words, things that are... um, relevant(?) to me). I don't really have a final summation, but in the end of a paragraph or so, I feel alot better about things than normal. Just something about me that I feel others should know.
Now, what exactly should I do today since Starbucks once again gave me the day off? Tif 'text' me outta the blue. Does she want me? Does she want support? She is single now. I DO need to get laid, but I know once I get that outta my system, I'm gonna be like, "Well, that's that." And I can't guarantee of ANY outcome that may follow. Shit, this damn kid won't stop texting me (tends to phone)... Jesus, what phone plan does that brat have?
I think I've written enough... I'm gonna go get high now...