We could be outside in the lovely green meadows,
Enjoying the bright morning sun.
Yet we choose the path that leads us to darkness,
A world for us to sulk and be sad.
We could be outside—and we are. Don’t you see us?
We’re stepping right into the light.
Yet darkness we choose and we offer it shelter
Into our weakened hearts and our minds.
And some of us have all the reasons to smile,
And none to be sad, none at all.
And yet this is what we have always been close to,
Anxiety ruling our minds.
Depression and sadness—we’ve known them forever,
We choose their familiar scent.
Self-love is a stranger. We don’t want to get closer
To what is unknown. We are home.
Yes, we could be happy, excited, ecstatic,
And at times we truly are so.
But we always come back to the grey and the static,
It’s what we have always called home.
True, we could be happy. There’s no reason not to. But
Hey, where’s the sadness in that?
Empty we are and we’re fine. We are happy,
We’re the generation that loves being sad.