an indifference, a numbness

“I am a millennial. Generation Y, born between the birth of AIDS and 9/11, give or take. They call us the global generation. We are known for our entitlement and narcissism. Some say it’s because we’re the first generation where every kid gets a trophy just for showing up. Others think it’s because social media allows us to post every time we fart or have a sandwich, for all the world to see. But it seems that our one defining trait is a numbness to the world, an indifference to suffering. I know I did anything I could to not feel; sex, drugs, booze. Just take away the pain, take away my mother and my ass hole father, and the press, and all the boys I loved who wouldn’t love me back. Hell, I was gang raped and two days later, I was back in class like nothing happened. I mean, that must’ve hurt like hell, right? Most people never get over stuff like that, and I was like, ‘Let’s go for Jamba Juice!’. I would give everything I have or will ever have just to feel pain again. To hurt. Thank God for minor-league Fiona and her herb garden. One advantage of being kind of dead is that you don’t have to sweat warning labels. There was this one brown liquid that I thought made my nipples tingle for a second, but I think it was psychosomatic because I polished off the rest of it and didn’t feel shit. I tried every ‘eye of newt’ and ‘wing of fly’ until I found something that made me not look like Marilyn Manson anymore. And that’s the rub of all this, isn’t it? I can’t feel shit. I can’t feel anything. We think that pain is the worst feeling. It isn’t. How can anything be worse than this eternal silence inside of me? I used to not eat for days or eat like crazy and then stick my fingers down my throat. Now, no matter how much I binge, I can’t fill this hole inside me. I can’t take it any more. I think I’m going bat shit. I need to do something.” –Madison Montgomery, American Horror Story: Coven

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