The sounds of instrumentals bring my mind state to a new platform.Blocking out the irritations of my surroundings.
Frustrated by fact that my generation believes that simply because you halfway attempted to psychoanalyze someone you dislike, you’re now a deep philosophical thinker.
In an age of entitlement my peers drown in their own opinions, claiming they’re the next big thinker because they’re voting for/against Donald Trump.
My people, my peers.
This is my generation.
Of love, hate, and segregation.
All combined in one.