As a young
adult, I find myself imprisoned between the two walls of adulthood and
childhood. Adulthood offers freedom, while childhood offers security. As time
passes, I’ve learnt otherwise.
When I was
a child, things were simple. You wanted food? You wanted toys? Here. I remember
we would decorate our ice cream on a hot summer’s day with Millions and chocolate
sauce; or we would parade beneath the Christmas tree and glints of its fluorescent
light bulbs, wondering what awaits us on the morning of 25th
December. Here’s the thing, we were children and we loved it. We were dreamers,
determinant of the world tomorrow, how did we end up here?
It’s
peculiar, really. I find myself an odd ball. I’m at the denouement of my
teenage years; genesis of my mature years. You feel detached. Mature acquaintances
consider their ways righteous and absolute; whereas youths nowadays are obsessed
with anarchistic ideas, a phase they all go through. Video games become an escapism,
opinions repudiated and rantings a personal weakness. Where’s our voice, our
identity as millennials? It’s folly to diminish us to mere label between baby
boomers and iGens (post-millennials). We are humans too and we deserve to be
validated.
Photo 1.1 Source: https://pixabay.com/static/uploads/photo/2012/10/04/01/53/boy-59171_640.jpg
Photo 1.2 Source: https://pixabay.com/static/uploads/photo/2014/10/01/18/02/sad-468923_640.jpg
Written, Randall
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