Generation Misery

Am I alone. The question comes back from time to time, more often now than before. I am.

Voids can be filled but that requires having something to put in them.

I work backward when I remember. At first I jump to a point but them what led up to the moment take priority and times order reverses.

The older I get the farther along it I look. The point of remembrance is lost in the pursuit of what brought me there.

Snapshots of what was become the norm as the movie of more recent events sputters and dies, the gaps are to big.

It was so strange the world I lived in when I was young, it was just cruel, but now the taste is the same but the flavor is more complex.

I was a rebel. But I didn't know it at the time. I trusted no one and the system was corrupt. I was an artist and I was going to be better, but then a dollar sign someone put on the tracks derailed me. I wasn't going to work for the man, but he was paying well.

The promise of a different path gave way to becoming the thing I hated and it's my fault. I forgot not how, but why we got so far so fast. I forgot what the words meant even though I had stood on a box and read them to others because they couldn't hear me on the floor.

I went to sleep protecting the people I love and I woke up a war criminal.