Old phone booths. Old stores which stand like historical ruins. This is the generation of nostalgia. Everybody compares somebody or an aspect to something of the past and we bathe in nostalgia, welcoming the wave. Old fashion is revived. Old music is glorious and the legacy of a seemingly better period in this world. People run a marathon and their prize is loosing their legs because of the immorality of Satan's students. Kids go and watch their favourite singer, blessed in music and enjoying what should be a fantastic memory but instead the memory is shrapnel of nails showering the crowds and piercing into flesh. Its not hard to understand why this is the generation of nostalgia. We were raised in the age of terrorism, suicide is not irregular and our favourite artists are overdosing leaving us lost without their musical support. We're lost so we clutch onto the memories of better times, before the two giants of the big apple fell life seemed better and life before our generation is more appealing. We're slaves to technology, we're the sheep without a Shepard, artists overdose and Hollywood remake old films. It shouldn't be this way but we spit on originality because that means ejecting our minds from the clouds and accepting the grueling and dysfunctional realism. I wish I was born in 1969. I wish I was sweet sixteen again. I should probably stop obsessing over the past, exterminate my dreamscape and focus on the moment but that'll never happen. If I'm going to live to be middle-aged I'll still be swigging on Corona and spending my days in envy, anger and an sprinkle of optimism which prevents me from tying a noose. I just want to be pure.