MENTAL NOTE

"Though we cannot make our sun stand still, yet we will make him run."
Blue, resist the urge to use facebook. You can do it. Good luck.
Cats and dogs can be friends. So can cowboys and indians. So can we.
Why try to be the best when there's no hierarchy in heaven?

Monday, November 20, 2017

Revenge of the Millennial

Hi. I'm Ned and I'm a millennial.

I don't do things that are hard because that would upset me, and I'm fond of everything that is perfect, quick, cheap and easy. The reason why I'm here today is that Google told me by accident that I should take off my blinders to the world and reevaluate my incessant whining ─ that maybe it is time for me to understand that being the victim of spoon-feeding has made it impossible for me to chew or hold my own spoon when things get a bit rough.

I'm basically one step removed from the people you see in WALL-E, who can't walk or communicate without the safety of a computer screen comfortably installed between them and anyone tangible who wishes to speak with them in person, except that I'm not fat because I love my skinny jeans way too much. I don't have sex because that would mean I'd have to make a lasting impression, which is hard because, you know, sex is hard work and I already know I can't be as good as Long John in sex4all.com. I need at least 25 thumbs up per day or I'll lose confidence in my ability to be winning by simply existing and sending you pictures of my breakfast, lunch and dinner. 

It's hard work being a millennial. It's draining. It's almost impossible to maintain my image of perfection on Facebook, Instagram and what not. I guess you could say I'm obsessed with personal branding. Last night I dreamed there was an earthquake and instead of helping the people in need, I just took a selfie with them in the background.

I like the new DC movies because nothing looks real. It's all glossy and clean and comforting. Whenever the world wants to show its true face to me ─ it's so ugly, I hear ─ I hide in a movie theater behind a ton of overpriced but perfect popcorn and escape for a couple of hours in a universe of sterile perfection.

But no more. I have to be stronger than this. I have to put right what why parents did wrong. They always treated me like a prince. I farted and they were impressed. "Do it again," they'd say, and I would of course comply. They'd take their iPhone and film my impressive bowel moves and share them on Facebook in hopes of many, many likes. I'm beyond that now. Some cynics would say I'm beyond help, but I'm not. It's time for me to escape the Matrix that is my life. It's time to reset my entire being. I will succeed. I will come back, and when I do, you will say, "He's no millennial. He's one tough cookie who knows how to deal with setbacks, drawbacks, disappointments, real life and pain." You will be proud of me.

My name is Ned, and I'll be back.

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