Act III (Caskey)

Our generation is reeducated by social media; false displays of lifestyles we foolishly long for. We find satisfaction in momentary pleasures, ultimately leaving ourselves more thirsty than we were before. We surround ourselves with a source of energy I'm only now beginning to understand. I've been shown that stimulants don't bring us together any more than our handful of other hollow activities, mere distractions from our own self-hate and feelings of loneliness. Well, not exactly, but I feel as though that's how it is, thanks to this generation. I'm not saying the world's full of insanity — though it is — but depression seems to be a far more plentiful drug than happiness. Why do we get so high off our own self-loathing? A high we hate more and more each time, but chase nonetheless. Fearful of what's outside our own predictable walls. I do have faith, though. I see more reasons to everyday. More people grasping onto the importance of changing ourselves, no longer able to stand by idly. It's only with this recognition of hope in each other that we can pull ourselves out of this mess we were born in; a disaster we didn't start, but nonetheless perpetuated in our years of thoughtless living. Born by our parents' mistakes, raised by the internet, and nurtured in the unfaithful hands of our peers. We are truly the only real flowers which grow from the mud — a beautiful anomaly — perhaps destined to change its ways and redefine the way humans exist with each other, and perhaps destined to perish like the others before us. Generation