Behind the mirror

I feel completely lost and nostalgic today - must be the Pre-Birthday-Depression. So here are some 2cents thoughts about my Generation.


There's this special feeling when I grab a book, I've read 15 years ago. The smell of nicotine sticks to the pages, a page has a large coffee stain on it - and with this book in my hands, I remember how I felt back then.

Not really innocent, but not as cynical as I am today.
Grunge was already dying but my friends and I still banged ourheads toJeremy from Pearl Jam. In our pathetic ways of trying to be cool, we dressed all in Black (which hasn't changed till today), fed our coffee-addiction at Starbucks and smoked Gauloise Blondes.
And we tried to be so damn grown up. We wanted to be bohemian.

Now we're grown up. And get our hazelnut flavored Latte Machiato at the next gas station on the way to work. Some of us still smoke Gauloise, others have quit. 'It's not good for the kids, ya know?' is one of the excuse most often heard, or I have to take care of my health (while taking another sip of Red Bull.) Then the small talks switches back to topics like the newest IKEA-catalogue or yet another internship.
Forgodsfucking sake do I hate this word.
I.N.T.E.R.N.S.H.I.P.
It sums it all up.
Back in 2005the term Generation Praktikum (Generation Internship) was the title of an essay written by Matthias Stolz for the German newspaper Die Zeit. He reflects about the peoples' situation between the age of 20 and 35. People like me, who earn not enough for a decent living, have to be flexible for the job and dont know where they are in the next 10 years from now.

Not much has changed in 09. We wait for people to die to get their positions. Or try our luck with small businesses. Or are the really lucky ones who had the great idea at the right time. Or we ended up in boxes called offices.
And all our relationships are kind of an internship. A contract for a few months, maybe a year. We're loyal to none except ourselves.

Were so damn bohemian now. Youtube, facebook and twitter are the hangouts of my generation. Even when we sit in a coffeeshop, we have our laptop or iPhone at hand to tell the rest of the world that were sitting at this fragging shop and enjoy our Espresso.

It doesnt matter that the best friend lives in Munich, nearly 600 kilometers away - thanks to skype, a web camera and a 24/7 connection to the internet the illusion of direct neighborhood is created.
Bad if this illusion is destroyed by real life events it can end up in the mid-generation-crisis Im cultivating at the moment.
An iPhone doesnt scream at you how terribly you fucked things up. And it doesn't give you a hug and tries to cheer you up.

Instead I'm writing a pathetic blog-post to find a way to cope with my feelings.

So, does it really comes down to this simple questions, which have been asked too many times: Are we lonely in our exhibitionism? And why do we spent a Tuesday night on writing posts about the life, the universe and the rest?

Trying to find the answers to those questions reveals some ugly truths.

Not only about the right question for the damn '42'-answer but also about the person who's staring back in the mirror.

15 years ago I laughed about the so called Generation X. Today I have to realize I'm part of it, including all the McJobs and the hope for a brighter future. Friendship is defined by how many hits a profile has. And seems to be changeable like underwear.
The next best friend is only a click away.

Originally published at Solokuenstler.