I was asked today: What do I think about gender in society and pop culture? Well, in laymen terms, pop culture is fucking us kids ALL THE WAY UP. I can’t log onto social media without some teenage child girl with a freakishly awk body i.e displaced boobs courtesy of your local victoria secret, cleavage beyond imagination and side touches that could be the root of a new pandemic of scoliosis of the back. Males are just as guilty as well, if my eyes are subject to one more mirror picture of undeveloped abs due to the mere skinniness of these manchildren I will flag for review every male mirror pic selfie that I must witness. I WILL DO IT. I am trying to save you poor souls. The definition of your abs (which by the way resemble the bodies of starving children of undeveloped third world countries) does not in any shape or form determine your level of sexiness or appeal; in fact it takes away from it (there’s levels to this shit). You kids post pics that practically unwrap the gift before you’re parents have even had a chance to put the dern Christmas tree up! There’s a point here I promise. Amongst this rant there is a lesson or rather realization about our generation, and here it is: we dwell in a generation that capitalizes on time. It is as if we have lost all sense of it, and with this senselessness we have created an impenetrable lost and (never) found. Consumed with the “adult” fantasy kids are prematurely morphing into adults instead of butterflying into sages. As we continuously try to pass time we skip over the teensy weensy marvels of youth, the milestone eureka moments that propel our “affirmed” beliefs on a constant rotation of spirituality, individualism, and absolute lunacy. Our generation has become desensitized to the miracle of awkward adolescence. Innocent middle school dances fade as twelve-year olds find them selves displaced at “high school” parties ultimately run by teenagers not more than two years their senior, high school girls find their freshly pedicured toes in heels purchased by mother on their way to an 18 and up club, the trend continues. Until there is “nothing” left. Experience is no longer needed and here beckons a life of unfulfilled joy and an ever evading sense of peace. There MUST be an end to this cyclic process. Why not dwell in every moment possible. Linger in every moment and savor in every inch of introspective growth. Live you youngins, this is the key to forever young. Rushing to every milestone from 16 to 18 to 21…then what? Let every day be the milestone of life that we cannot wait to reach. Maybe then the kids can finally be kids and mirror pics will become a humorous pastime subject to a Kevin Hart script.