Talkin' Bout My Generation

The 'best minds' of my generation

I've witnessed these minds disconnect from society, cold and electronic without even the faintest of regrets

drugged on painkillers, antidepressants, and a plethora of underground pharmaceuticals

who staggered haphazardly from bar to bar looking for a fix, a drink, a hit, even the briefest encounters with 'love'

who woke up dead, ethereal, floating above their lifeless corpses, missing half their heads, the wisdom of their minds spilled all over their living room rugs.

who gave up conventional communication and instead turned to the isolation of the web to find solace, a home amongst strangers, glaring always, eyes stinging, at the lifeless din of a monitor

who lost the ability to coherently speak, string words, babble incessantly, instead stumble along typing out expressionless words always open for the worst of misinterpretations.

who are nothing more than walking radiation, a tumorous lump attached to their ears. choosing to jabber into a microphone as opposed to merely speaking to another being

Who spend their days locked in padded rooms, pleading insanity for their vices, all the while counting the days, the hours until they can walk with a needle in their arm and a bottle in hand.

whose dimming fame is set alight once more by hardcore porn that 'accidentally' finds its way to the public

who are starved for attention, long for acceptance, yet do everything in their power to deviate from the norm.

the minds of this generation scream, ache, and die off, cell by cell.