“The Disposable Generation”

Written by Alex Hickey

A trip through the dark pits, rancid nooks and crannies, and soft white underbellies of a generation of wild animals that have a newfound freedom from the circus of society and are now running wild without, socks, shoes, neck ties or even waistcoats.

 

30th December

She was the Joy in my life

The unmoving North star

In my otherwise lost life

But she is gone now

A concept lost to time

No longer directing me

No longer comforting me

She remains a memory

Sweet as she was

Time so precious to me

I could almost forget myself

But she is gone now

The Joy in my life

The sunshine that blessed me

Throughout my days

She remains a memory now

But though the Joy in our life

May have died long ago

We cannot stop looking

For the Joy in tomorrow

For though it seems bleak now

There is always hope

For greater joys

Waiting on the horizon

For all is not lost now

 

To have constant doubt, to die in shame, to live in the shadows of others, to fear without need, these are all forgivable sins but there is nothing at the end of the tunnel for those who live without reason. Where did we lose our way? How did things get so lost that now we live this way? I look out at this generation that I so desperately seek to understand, and yet I always come away the same way, more and more alienated. As we move to the future, I don’t agree with some scholars of our time, our children aren’t moving backwards, they’re not regressing, I think we’re slowly decaying, like the zombies that people watch on TV, we’re walking around with half our faces hanging off and lurching towards uncertainty with zest. Our governments say they worry about the increasing issue of addiction while they slowly get us hooked on their poisons and feed us their lies.

And I’m no different. I criticize week after week and mock the lives we live today, everybody getting caught in the recent excitement of the latest stupid trend, like travel or cryptocurrency or becoming a self-made millionaire by the time you’re 25 and all that bull jive. There are no simple answers, there are no happy marriages for this generation and we need to start being a bit more subjective and less easily swayed by advertising.

I visited the Korean war museum today, I felt it fitting being close to new years’, and I remembered the words of my sister Lisa when she went there years ago on that foggy afternoon, eerie, she remarked on the statues of the armed men pushing through the thick clouds, and I can see that too. The empty look of sadness as the troops fought on through the bullets. We fight on too today, a constant battle, fighting through the tears. And I reflect on the fact that even back then we lived our disposable lives, hundreds of thousands dying in pseudo war, a war of ideas without ever questioning it, it was a fight for freedom, how could that ever be wrong? Right?

Now, 64 and a half years later, with two clowns trying to prove who has the bigger balls to their own deluded people and half the world assuming war could break out at any point, here in midtown Mapo-gu, no one can really tell or even seems to care, the elevators at the Hyundai department store still go up and down, people still use the subways, buses, cars and cabs and we still enjoy soju with our meals at night. War seemed more obvious in Istanbul to be honest, but we don’t often hear about that, the armored trucks and metal detectors round every other corner.

But what am I trying to get at here? That while we’re busy looking at the tree in front of us we tend to forget that we’re lost in this forest. Nobody seems to be helping out either, back in Malta, while everyone is snuggled in for Christmas, there are people out there planning your next shopping spree, waiting to sell you insurance you don’t need and preparing you for another war with your peers and ultimately with yourself. And I’m here, struggling, as I always seem to be, with the basic, fundamental questions of life and meaning. And I can’t answer them, I’ve tried, and I hope that through these articles it could become clearer or at least easier to deal with but until then, I just have to keep seeing things through my eyes. Watching this disposable generation and remember the words that really describe it best, eerie.

We too go through the fog and fight the bullets, but now, no one considers freedom, no one considers where they’re going anymore. And maybe that naiveite is what I’m missing in my life, the unwavering faith that somehow, we are going somewhere, that there is an eventual aim to all this and in the end, we’re all going to be ok and understood. Because somewhere inside me says that these issues that I deal with are the fundamental issues that this whole generation is dealing with but everybody seems to have just given up, choosing to go to their stupid parties and dancing away their problems and trying to fit in with a crowd of just as deluded people and shunning anyone who thinks differently, the tinder users of the world, a group of people who could band together and make the world’s largest army and still accomplish absolutely fucking nothing.

And so we return to my main point. Maybe I look like a fool to many, but I wasn’t placed on this earth to be loved, wanted or accepted and again I say, screw you, I’m here to stir up the mud and watch you all flounder. Maybe I’ll die in shame, maybe I’ll be homeless and broke and maybe I’ll be locked away never to see the light of day again but at least I can say I didn’t live my life without reason, even if that reason was the search for reason itself.

 

SOCIALICON
SOCIALICON