megaloboomers

 The wind howls in the black night. It seems almost to seek to gain entry through the window. The temperature drops and I think of the cat that sleeps outside. She is wise and knows what to do and where to go, but it is not exactly comfort. Dreams of loves long lost once more wake me at 4am and render me restless as I gaze into the dark and think of the past and long for one last embrace. A world of war and winter is what we have right now as the power-mad boomers cannot sit still… they press and press in their endless need for attention and control and domination. All boomer leaders are in some way weak. Perhaps it is simply that they cannot step aside, relax, and leave the world to the future… they think that they are the only ones capable of running things. Weakness masked as power. The super ego of the ‘me generation.’ 

                  We lie in our beds, sit on our couches, drink in bars, dance in clubs, and simply hope that the boomers don’t lead us into an irreversible war. They are so stubborn and so determined to show who is the most powerful that our lives matter little in the grand scheme of things. Boomer men with bad hair, fattening bodies, declining power, doomed marriages, who are losing all global appeal to anyone anywhere… they must strike out and reclaim attention. Like a desperate person who gets engaged for the Instagram photos and then, when the attention fades, gets married. Then, once more, when the attention fades, they have a child, and so on and so forth until they realise they are old, no one cares, and their life was never their own.