You think of life as a journey. As some sort of cosmic interloper where you constantly weigh the value of your actions. It is heralded as a journey, yet ends up being a song of regret, filled with sorrow and constant regret.

Some would argue with this statement, this bold statement of nihilism, but in fact it rings true. This is a world built on borrowed time, with little thought of future actions or effect. We are the anti-Buddhists. This world, made up of righteous lives and even greater misery, reflects on our right to self destruction. We revel in the right to destruction and suffering. We are, in essence, the culprit in our own destruction.

I have seen wars waged over greed and anger. I have seen the countless millions funneled out, and those with the will to make humanity stronger falter at the simple act of stacking bills in exchange for their integrity. This creates the world of hopeless cynics, for all cynics were once born revolutionary idealists.

We are a world alone. Without thought and reason, we trudge through life seeking endless meanings to questions we once thought important.

We even have the right to postulate without concept, or whine without conviction.

This is a generation of lost souls.

I yearn for armageddon.