What good was a fight without an ending? I believe I saw the purpose of life in this war, when it finally ended, when everyone was exhausted beyond belief, that it ended for good measure. For me, the instinct was first to despair about the sadness, but soon it was washed away in slumber. When I woke up, nothing changed, there was no revolution. We have to do it for ourselves, we have to fight, we have to love and be there to support the ones who fought so hard to end the war, we need to be there.
Then I realised what I did when I got out of their way and made my own path after the war. I wasn't angry at them, far from it I was really thankful they gave me a chance at life. But I needed this, to make sense of things in this great unknown, and they were in the way. They were in the way because of their influence and biases, prejudices and greed. We the ones who did the groundwork did not care those things, and a new generation cannot be living in the shadow of the past. The hours are growing longer, the tasks are growing onerous we cannot live like they did, when things were slower, lives were simpler, events weren't bombastic and regurgitating at every sign. They romanticised a mechanical past whereas we are living in the digital light. That is not to say we are better, but that we are tasked to do much more with less, and get more hours and less money and less time for ourselves, for family. That is not fun. They did all these corporate jobs for the challenge, ambition and some fun, whereas we are dying to put our hand crawling onto the pulpit. To even have a fraction of that small pie.
I see no joy in this pursuit of the corporate, and yet we seem to be sucked into its vortex if we even show a morsel of care to the giants of our time after the war. No it can't be the truth. We are the truth. We are the new generation.