草莓世代 The Strawberry Generation
We are the so-called strawberry generation. We were born with televisions, cell phones, and motorcycles. And our Technicolor world is decorated with movie stars and pop music icons, plus loads of commercials that promise when we turn sixteen we’ll become their products--and we did. This is the story of the strawberries. Our parents think we look fancy but are truly weak, but in reality, we are rougher than sweet. Call us strawberries? Then they have just ignored our potentialities to screw up their world. After all, adults are our Dr. Frankensteins, and we are their monsters with cherry looks on the outside.
Most of our parents suffered a lot, because they grew up in economic hard times. They longed to continue schooling but they couldn’t pay their way to high school. Now, what our parents couldn’t obtain they made sure that we have them. They prized education so much that we started wearing thick glasses since grade school. They told us we had to study for school all the time so they took away our privileges to play. Growing up with little experience of freedom and pleasure, most of us tend to be pessimistic. Many of us go to school hating ourselves because we’re not smarter than the other kids, or don’t look as good as others in uniforms. Some of us loathe ourselves so much that we have become suicidal.
But this doesn’t mean we’re weak like strawberries. We are dealing with much harsher competitions than our parents used to deal with; and we go to school to face kids a lot more complicated than they used to face. Our world has been fully developed. Hardly any place is left unexplored on earth; still, we are expected to make ourselves into somebody under this condition. We have become much tougher in the process. Our generation may have not been involved in real wars, yet we have shot down more airplanes, killed more people in our Sega world.
We are not sweet like strawberries; we are most of the time tricky fighters in order to get what we want because we know the world is not our friend. Adults thought they are greater than us because they ate sweet potato slices three meals a day in the old days, but we had to study in McDonald’s most days of the year and that’s no more pleasurable. Our Dr. Frankensteins vent their discontent at political rallies waving their flags and banners. What right do they have to criticize us for doing our raps and chasing our idols? Dr. Frankenstein and the monster he created shared the same fate and perished. Will we end up the same way in our mutual discontent?
We are the so-called strawberry generation. We were born with televisions, cell phones, and motorcycles. And our Technicolor world is decorated with movie stars and pop music icons, plus loads of commercials that promise when we turn sixteen we’ll become their products--and we did. This is the story of the strawberries. Our parents think we look fancy but are truly weak, but in reality, we are rougher than sweet. Call us strawberries? Then they have just ignored our potentialities to screw up their world. After all, adults are our Dr. Frankensteins, and we are their monsters with cherry looks on the outside.
Most of our parents suffered a lot, because they grew up in economic hard times. They longed to continue schooling but they couldn’t pay their way to high school. Now, what our parents couldn’t obtain they made sure that we have them. They prized education so much that we started wearing thick glasses since grade school. They told us we had to study for school all the time so they took away our privileges to play. Growing up with little experience of freedom and pleasure, most of us tend to be pessimistic. Many of us go to school hating ourselves because we’re not smarter than the other kids, or don’t look as good as others in uniforms. Some of us loathe ourselves so much that we have become suicidal.
But this doesn’t mean we’re weak like strawberries. We are dealing with much harsher competitions than our parents used to deal with; and we go to school to face kids a lot more complicated than they used to face. Our world has been fully developed. Hardly any place is left unexplored on earth; still, we are expected to make ourselves into somebody under this condition. We have become much tougher in the process. Our generation may have not been involved in real wars, yet we have shot down more airplanes, killed more people in our Sega world.
We are not sweet like strawberries; we are most of the time tricky fighters in order to get what we want because we know the world is not our friend. Adults thought they are greater than us because they ate sweet potato slices three meals a day in the old days, but we had to study in McDonald’s most days of the year and that’s no more pleasurable. Our Dr. Frankensteins vent their discontent at political rallies waving their flags and banners. What right do they have to criticize us for doing our raps and chasing our idols? Dr. Frankenstein and the monster he created shared the same fate and perished. Will we end up the same way in our mutual discontent?