Please excuse the comma splices, tense changes, verbosity, etc. I was just a youngin' and now I realize the error of my grammatical ways. Plus, I preferred the flowery and descriptive writing styles of the early 19th century and beyond rather than the short, journalistic post-Hemingway-style of writing. I love intense imagery and descriptions in general. Still deciding whether I should edit my old poetry for grammar mistakes or take the Beatnik approach and fuck it.

Disclaimer: I only wrote/write on bad days. Grand days have never inspired me enough to write as I've always used writing as an outlet. A majority of my poetry is angsty, dark humored, or depressing, however, I don't have depression, and I'm not self-destructive or suicidal by any means. My writing is mostly a tenfold representation of the kind of day I was having at the time. Embellishing the realities of my bad days on paper helped turn them into good days. Not sticking my head into an oven anytime soon (or ever, actually). :P +10 points if you got the reference.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment

Friday, August 21, 2009

Life Through the Eyes of a Preskooler [sic]

Wouldn't it be grand to go back in time? The three through six age range enticed me greatly. Back then, life was simple. The greatest fears you had involved losing a tooth, the neighbor's scary nipping chihuahua, or the thought of getting either a time out or a spanking if you threw a fit 'cause your parents wouldn't let you buy that Barbie doll or Hot Wheels car set that occupied the highest shelf at Toys 'R' Us, just out of reach of your barely 4-foot tall frame.

You were often awestruck by the little things, like bubbles dancing through the air as they sporadically popped right in front of your eyes, or finding out you were small enough to ride on the back of the neighbor's dog like a horse. Personally, I was never a big fan of bubbles. Somehow, they would always end up popping in my face. I swear I must have been farsighted as a child.

I miss the good ol' days...when it was safe to color outside of the lines, spill flour all over the kitchen, and give the neighbor's dog or your sibling (but really, what's the difference? ;]) a free haircut. When the worst thing Heather or Tommy could say to you was "Shut up" or "You can't play with us."

Now, a majority of children, adolescents, and adults who belong to Generation Y and Y2K are procrastinating, lazy, selfish, arrogant, rude, impractical, immoral, close-minded, ignorant, and materialistic barbarians from Planet I-Want-It-Now with considerably minute attention spans.

The only thing on our mind consists of either purchasing a wardrobe worth more than someone's annual salary or complaining about how hard we have it, how much our life sucks, and how "we all just wanna be big rock stars and live in hilltop houses, drivin' fifteen cars. The girls come easy, and the drugs come cheap. We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat." You get the picture.

Yeah, I basically just insulted myself, but I'll live as I brew my fresh hot cup of hypocrisy. We need to END this stereotype and revert back to simpler times.

"I have to write a five page essay, and it's due in a week!"

"I'm calling in sick 'cause I have the worst cold ever."

"I got grounded. My life is over."

"I got a 'D' on my test."

"They cancelled The Hills!"

"They can't make me run the mile in Phys. Ed."

*drops object on floor*

"Eh, someone else will clean it up. Why should I have to?"

"I'm not going swimming for gym - the chlorine will dry out my hair."

"Why pay for college when I can buy these insanely cute shoes?!"

*a month later*

Seventeen says these shoes are out of style. Better go buy some more!"

*watches TV*

"I wish I were that pretty/skinny/beautiful/gorgeous/ripped/muscular/hot..."

If you're lucky, when you start climbing over that huge hill and come across Mid-life Crisis Peak in your brand spankin' new Italian leather shoes, you may still have that end-of-the-alphabet cup size, those monstrous biceps, or enough 6-packs to run Budweiser out of business, but thanks to society, that's all that matters! Why have an IQ of 130 when you would rather have A NEW CAR!?

*brought to you by The Price is Right*

Life gradually appears to be increasingly complicated due to our failure to see how out of control we have become as humans. The Y2K scare is coming true, and honestly, I am terrified of how our world will turn out once our generation becomes the main inhabitant of this finite planet.

"My job got outsourced to India. I don't know how I'm going to financially support my family." Why is this my problem?

"Bernie Madoff made off with my life savings." Who's Bernie Madoff?

"The bank owns my house 'cause I couldn't pay back my home loans." What are they talking about?

"I lost my home in the flood, and everything in it. I lost my pictures, and the place I grew up, and I'll never be able to resurrect the memories." Cry me a river, I still have my new car...

Instead of fighting over a box of crayons with Heather and Tommy, we'll be nuking each other 'cause our politicians told us to ...

Unless the living generations of the world can contribute to this kick ass planet in some form, aside from benefitting our economy and increasing the abundance of plants through the exhalation of CO2, the generations will be banished from this godforsaken planet as they are relentlessly stomped on by throngs of passersby with massive Jimmy Choo pumps.

Irony will always prevail. That is all.

Copyright © 2009

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