Posted in Essay

Millennial syndrome


Wake up, wash, breakfast. Fuck… It`s 2016 idiot! You are considered an old-timer if you start like that. Rewind … Wake up, open phone, let social media suck the life out of me … Fuck… it’s  1 pm already…


The invisible Antichrist needs souls to feed upon. And we are the first in line to fulfill his damn wish. Yes, we rate ourselves by the number of fucking likes we receive and we are ready to do anything to milk that one extra like that will get us to go viral. Selfie photo 5 seconds before death… crossed over while being excited to get that +1 thumb up… killing a father of 2 youngsters in a car accident because texting crush… comments fueled with hatred by the blood pumped out of a  poisoned heart (or what’s left of it)… sharing every nonsense shit about your life like somebody actually gives a rats ass… bolstering free personal info to strangers…  relying and trusting more into a robot miles away than in real friends… getting shepherd by any 100k plus followers wannabe… sustaining fucktards that show off abundance of  luxuries but complete lack of intelligence…

We cheer up when someone shows her ass or his muscles. Like never ever recorded in history, we follow false positives while outcasting true positives. We are calling ourselves perfectionists because we are in the constant hunt for the ultimate beauty standards, injecting shit ass substances in whatever body part for a lackluster of a few years… fish lips and duck face are the animal traits that we revived in order to regress as species…without thinking that, in the end, we will disintegrate from within.  We hail any modern day Eve… make martyrs out of any shred of remaining intellectual minds…

Ability to active listening to what everyone has to say is a scroll lost in a library that is now a mansion for a reality tv show. Our fucking mouths are barking in a chorus of chickens instead of letting each one state their opinion. It`s understandable. The decrease of gray matter in our brains limits memory to a length comparable to golden fishes; while being afraid not to forget, time eating phrases are spawn at an alarming rate.

Human interaction, communication… dafuq I’m talking about? These terms resemble almost nothing today. We go out with friends and almost instantly phones are on the table… we go on a “walk” using hoverboards… we run not because it`s healthy but because we can show the route we took, the miles we made, the photos we took while feasting out of the number of likes we get in return. We take a picture in a picture of a picture that`s made in a place we virtually inhabit… we are living the life of others… Never before were people so lonely.


Like Crusader champions, at the end of the day, we hear our virtual friends clapping for the x hours cashed into the ledger of Antichrist. A ghost jury gives the verdict: Goal Achieved. Eyes are closing but we stay a bit more. Finally… sleep. Tomorrow is another day to live, although we are completely dead inside.

Planet Earth can catch a breath and pull down its mask… the mask that protected it from the putrefied smell of decomposing neurons infected by media stem cells.

©Nicholas Sogard

(Source photo: In your mind)

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I`m an avid statistics consumer and in my mind I see a probability in every event. I would like to say that I act only when the odds are in my favor however lying I will be. Sometimes the sweetest victories come from the utmost underdog situation. Music is, maybe, one of the most influential factors that defined my personality. I wasn’t blessed with talent to sing or play so I can only write about my rock albums, to the world. Yes, rock is the main genre I listen too, with all subcategories, but any good styles, refuse I don’t.

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