I wish I could tell you that your story has a happy ending, or anyone’s story for that matter. I wish I could go full-Hollywood, tear everything down and build it right back up in the span of an hour and thirty minutes. Rom-com everything into perfection, tie a pretty little bow around it, and drift off into a restful eight hours of uninterrupted, glorious sleep. The kind of sleep you haven’t had since you had much less shit on your mind, much less baggage chained to your ankles, and much less emptiness to stare into. You know the kind, it’s the good shit- the kind of sleep that doesn’t involve flipping your pillow a thousand times because you’re just so damn deeply asleep that everything falls away into peaceful nothingness.

I truly do wish I could give that to you, but I can’t. Desire and ability aren’t the same unfortunately, and this is one of those moments when that fact is all too clear. I wish I could offer a glimmer of hope, that everything turned out fine cause we stood tall and faced down the end of everything, but you and I both know that’s not what happened. Not by a long shot. Please don’t ask me “why?” either, don’t belittle your own intellect by asking such a fucking dumb question. Why? We’re human, dipshit- THAT’S why.

We earned the merit badge for colossal self-destruction a couple thousand years ago, give or take, and we’ve been careening towards it ever since. We jumped off the cliff smiling, eating popcorn on the way down, watching everything plunge into the abyss like some kind of Michael Bay monstrosity playing out before our eyes in glorious 4K resolution. We created a monster that we knew would turn on us, but we figured “fuck it, let’s see what happens!”, and we let it run amok while we shoved meat-flavored potato chips down our fucking throats, eyes glued to whatever passed for “reality”on television before we all felt our last breaths leave our tired, defeated bodies.

We did it to ourselves is the point I’m trying to make here, but I feel like you must have known that the whole time. You were there, you lived a life, you were conscious. That’s about the only criteria I can think of, if you were an upright human person it was obvious on a constant basis just how epically fucked we were as a species, planet, whatever. Everyone was “here for the party” on the outside but completely clueless on the inside, going through the motions of living lives curated for the approval of everyone but themselves. Ever dancing our way to the guillotine, determinedly setting a high bar for new lows along the way.

Every day was like a drinking game, only instead of trivia questions it was “every time some new atrocity is committed you have to slap your neighbor and chug an entire can of Busch Light”. Metaphor was never my strong suit, but stay with me- we made it fun to watch everything die, fuck everyone, brought to you by Mountain Dew. Whatever, you get the point. Fuck the exposition, everything went to shit and we spent so much time fucking it up worse, and worse, and worse, that there wasn’t one single way we could have saved the day.

Figured I’d cut the shit and just come out with it. That’s all, folks. Think of me as the fashionably sarcastic, bitingly witty spirit from the other side here to assure you that despite your best intentions, you were fucked from the get-go and so was everyone else. Look on the bright side though, the sun is going to burn out in a few billion years or so, so this was really just borrowed time anyway. A vacation rental, a U-Haul truck, a temporary arrangement. We never managed to figure out what all that “meaning” was supposed to be about anyway, we chose to be stupid instead. Shocked? Didn’t think so.

We chose to hang on to the things that held us down til the bitter end, and I don’t even think we were cognizant enough to realize it before the flames were tickling our feet. I really do wish I had better news to report, but I just don’t. I don’t even think I have some kind of super-profound message, or purpose to telling you all this, save for the fact that I ensure that I cast the appropriate amount of gloom upon the proceedings for the sake of tonality.

It’s kind of like there never really was a beginning, we showed up for the ending and it’s just been dragging on for thousands of years. We weren’t as special as we presumed ourselves to be, we weren’t strong enough to save ourselves, and instead of celebrating new beginnings I’m here with you inside an ending. I’ll leave you to this remembrance, this rumination, this still image of something that lived and breathed before it gave up and resigned itself to the desolation of its own emptiness.

Some of us tried, but unfortunately the voices of reason weren’t as loud as the chorus of ignorance and it just wasn’t enough. Let it be noted though, we fucking tried like hell, and that’s something.

A blog/website where these happily married, 30-something parents of 2 little minions rant, rave, and speak in tongues. Raw, honest, and riddled with profanity. Get on board and let’s make The Ghost Generation awesome together!

The Ghost Generation

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